I didn't go in, Susie came out. I was flat on my back again, but this time I had Susie on top of me. "Hansel and Gretel?" I gasped, "Laurel and Hardy more like."

Susie and Jeffrey 3 by Jamie Hayworth

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

"I was misinformed - dangerously misinformed: to think I gave that advice a five star rating," Susie grumbled, removing her waist cord and tying up her torn trouser leg. "What's up, Jeffrey? You're very quiet, are you in shock?"

"No, Susie, I'm thinking about damage limitation. Do dogs commit suicide?"

"Hardly ever, Jeffrey, and never by impaling themselves on bicycle pumps. We have to be realistic. Look at the facts: I was trespassing and you killed a valuable dog. If we aren't prosecuted, we'll probably be sued for damages. Even worse, my dad isn't going to like this kind of publicity. They'll blackball him at the golf club."

"We could say it was all my fault, Susie," I offered.

"We're in this together, Jeffrey: the only way out for us is a cover-up. We need to put that dog to bed with a shovel. It's lucky they're having a Sunday morning lie in, because you're going to have to break into those outbuildings to get one."

"That's just asking for trouble, Susie - a cover-up will only make things worse."

"Only if we get caught - and we're not going to get caught. Trust me, Jeffrey, I know exactly what to do." Susie put her hand on my shoulder and breathed "We'll be partners in the perfect crime - bound together throughout eternity by a blood sacrifice."

"Steady on, Susie, you're entering the realms of fantasy. Let's confess - and I'll buy you a ring."

"Confess and be hanged - no way, Jeffrey. Get burgling."

"Half an hour ago you wanted Barbie, now you want Action Man. You're getting neither."

"All right, I'll do it myself."

Susie was on her way. I didn't need psychic powers to see disaster looming. "No, we don't need a shovel," I called after her. "Go get the magazine and stick it in the gate. We came, we saw nothing and we left. If we're going to cover this up, we've got to do it properly."

She stopped and turned. "But ..."

"No 'buts', Susie, get a move on."

I took off my bloodied top and t-shirt, and used the backs of them to clean up. The stain at the top of my dark trousers wasn't too noticeable. I was quite respectable by the time she returned. "You can't go around like that, Jeffrey, but I'm blowed if I know what you should do."

"Give me your top, Susie," I sighed.

"How does it feel, Jeffrey?" she grinned as I pulled it on.

"Exactly the same as mine - but it does smell nice." I took a deep breath. "What's the perfume, Susie?"

"That's not perfume Jeffrey, that's the scent of girl you're inhaling." Then she laughed, "One small step for Jeffrey, one giant leap for Denise."

"Who's Denise, Susie?"

"That's my middle name, I'm Susan Denise Jones."

"I know who Denise is: she's a figment of your fevered imagination and she's staying that way."

"Morning dreams come true, Jeffrey."

I pushed my clothes onto the dog and secured them with the waist cord. We were ready to go. I lifted the dog by the front legs and looked at Susie. "Come on, don't be squeamish, grab the back legs and let's be on our way."

"I'm no faint-heart, Jeffrey, you can rely on me. Wither thou goest, I goest."

"That's music to my ears, Susie - I lead, you follow."

"Don't get too smug, Jeffrey, come Halloween, I'll be in command and you'll be going backwards in high heels."

"I don't think so, Susie: I'd never wear high heels in a rowing boat. Now, let's concentrate on the job in hand."

We struggled back to the bikes and dumped the dog by the trailer. "Whew, Jeffrey, this dog's a dead weight," Susie panted and collapsed laughing.

Displaying icy self-control, I transferred the remaining magazines to my bike carrier. "Right, Susie, laughter break over - into the trailer with it."

Susie took a deep breath and we heaved the dog into the trailer. I pushed its legs down and pulled the cover over. "So far so good, Jeffrey, but I still think we need a shovel."

"Don't worry, our great Grimpen Mire will do the work for us," I smirked.

"The what?"

"Sherlock Holmes, I've read the entire works - not really girl's literature. I hope you also noticed how I behaved when you had a fit of hysteria."

"Sorry colonel-sir-sergeant-corporal," Susie rapped out, with a click of her heels and exaggerated salute. "Strict boy mode for both of us until we get rid of this bloody dog."

We hadn't far to go; after half a mile, we reached the access ramp at the back of the sea wall. "How will we manage a burial at sea, Jeffrey? Are we going to steal a boat?"

"The tide's out, Susie and I know where the patches of quicksand are. They're treacherous; they swallow motorbikes on a regular basis, so a dog will be no problem."

"Are you sure about this? It sounds like we may end up three in a bed."

"I'm sandgrown, Susie: I can smell quicksand. Now come on, let's get the trailer unhitched."

We hauled the trailer up the slope. "Remember, Susie, if anybody asks, we're off to collect our nightlines."

"Hey, Jeffrey, it's spooky how you've got an answer for everything, you haven't done this kind of thing before have you?"

"Of course not, Susie, I told you what kind of brain I have - and I help it by eating a lot of fish."

"I've underestimated you, Jeffrey, but I don't mind, we're going to have even more fun than I thought."

"I'm going to buy you a dictionary, Susie, and the first thing we'll look up is the definition of 'fun'."

She gave me a big smile as we emerged on the lower walkway. There was a dog walker coming our way, but we were down the ramp and out over the shingle onto the hard sand before he passed.

"Time to run, Susie, we're heading for the end of that outflow pipe." We splashed our way through a couple of gullies before we arrived at our goal. "It's all clear, Susie, let's get our friend out."

"I hope rigor mortis hasn't set in. Just our luck to have it stuck in the trailer."

"No sweat, Susie, it's three hours before that happens."

"I'll say it again, Jeffrey: you know a sight too much about the disposal of dead bodies."

"All knowledge innocently acquired I assure you, Susie."

We had the dog out on the sand. "First I want my pump back - pull his jaws apart, Susie."

"You wouldn't get many girlfriends doing this for their boyfriend on a first date," Susie grimaced, as she grasped the bloody jaws.

I gave a sharp tug and out it came with a slurp. "Ugh, what's that on my hands?" Susie moaned at a dark glutinous mass.

"You'll be okay: there's worse things in MacDonald's. Wipe them on its coat - it won't bite."

"My turn will come, Jeffrey."

"I know, but you'll have to work for it. Ready, then lift. We'll walk towards the pipe until we start to sink and then heave it in."

"I just hope you remember how I followed you unquestioningly, Jeffrey."

"This is it. Swing it, Susie. On three let go and jump back. One ... two ... three ... away."

The dog landed with a splat and began to sink. "It's working, Jeffrey, we're going to get away with it."

"Do you want to say a few words, Susie?" I asked as the dog vanished with a satisfying gurgle.

"Bloody good riddance," she cried and jumped in the air. That was a big mistake - she landed and went in up to her knees. "Oh Jeffrey, get me out of here."

I whipped off my top. "Grab the sleeve, Susie. When I pull, you jump. Whatever you do, don't let go."

"Don't worry, Jeffrey, if I don't come out, you're coming in."

I didn't go in, Susie came out. I was flat on my back again, but this time I had Susie on top of me. "Hansel and Gretel?" I gasped, "Laurel and Hardy, more like."

"Thanks, Jeffrey, sorry about the thigh in the groin. Have I done any damage - I can't feel anything down there. Has it all gone north?"

"No, Susie; it hasn't gone west either. Let me up please, I've a soggy bottom now, as well as a sticky front."

"Better that, than a sticky bottom and a soggy front," Susie laughed, as she helped me up.

I pulled my top back on and made ready to leave.

"Wait a minute, Jeffrey, my feet feel funny. Oh sugar! I've lost my trainers - they cost me a fortune."

"Get some like mine next time - ten pounds from Aldi. They're all made in China: no one will notice the difference."

"Sometimes, Jeffrey, I'm tempted to believe you have a one hundred percent Neanderthal brain."

"That's not an insult. Let's see you survive an ice age and kill a mammoth."

Susie wasn't paying attention; she was sniffing the air. "What's that stink, Jeffrey?"

"It's your feet, Susie, they smell of quicksand. You brought up some of the bottom stuff."

She sniffed again, longer and deeper. "That's not the smell of quicksand," she exploded, "that's the smell of shit. No wonder we've got this place to ourselves, we've been romping around in a bloody cesspit."

"No we haven't, it's just sand that pongs a bit."

"It's black, it's sticky and it stinks - it's shit, Jeffrey. What comes out of that pipe?"

"Rainwater mainly, unless the sewers get overloaded, but that's not supposed to happen very often."

"That's criminal, Jeffrey, I'll be writing a strong letter of protest to the local paper."

"No, don't do that. We don't want to stir up any trouble around here."

Susie frowned. "You're right - best let sleeping dogs lie, but it goes against the grain."

"That's the prudent thing. Come on, don't get upset, we can wash it off in the gully on the way back."

"That's all very well, but we can't go home like this. What are we going to say?"

"I'm way ahead of you, Susie. We cycle out to the car boot sale and buy some new clothes. My mother insists that I always have my emergency money with me."

A gleam appeared in Susie's eyes, "I get to do the shopping, Jeffrey."

"We'll have to talk about that, Susie. Come on, back to the bikes."

In the gully, I took off Susie's socks and did my best to wash out the bottoms of her trousers. "They're not too bad, your socks got the worst of it."

"I can't go barefoot, Jeffrey, what's it to be - your socks or your shoes?"

If I gave her my shoes she was going to have a head start in the shopping stakes, but I didn't fancy walking around a car boot sale with my pants in the state they were. Besides, it would be a noble gesture. "You can have my shoes, but you'll have to ride my bike - it's got serrated metal pedals."

"That's fine, Jeffrey, you can have a turn pulling the trailer."

"I should warn you, Susie, the first time on a racing saddle can be painful - especially for girls."

"In what way?"

"You'll have to find that out for yourself. How a girl's nether regions and a racing saddle fit together is a complete mystery to me. The big danger though is to something we do have in common - the nerve in the crotch. Pinch that ever so slightly over a long ride and you'll be numb down there for weeks."

"Are you trying to put me off, Jeffrey?"

"No, Susie, but don't blame me if you end up walking like John Wayne."

On the way up the beach, I threw some driftwood in the trailer. "In case anybody wonders what we're up to, Susie; we can pass for a couple of homeless urchins struggling to survive."

I was relieved to be back on the bikes and heading into the country.

"You've done it, Jeffrey, committed the perfect murder. No motive, no body and no witnesses."

"There is one witness, Susie and she knows where the body is buried. I hope I won't regret pulling you out of that quicksand. No careless talk, eh?"

"My lips are sealed, Jeffrey. I was thinking we could send a ransom note to put them off the trail."

"Are you mad, Susie?" I spluttered. "They're not on the trail, but they will be if we send them our DNA. The police won't bother about a runaway dog, but they will about a kidnapping. Let's keep it simple."

"I defer to your superior knowledge on all things criminal, Jeffrey. Subject closed, after you tell me one thing: did you know what you were doing with that pump?"

"No ... but my subconscious might have."

"Explain, Jeffrey."

"Well, I do a lot of reading and things stick. I can recall skimming through a book about how to deal with various emergencies."

"And that was one of them?"

"Yes: just be thankful I wasn't carrying an umbrella, or there would have been blood and guts everywhere."

"Enough said, Jeffrey."

"One thing I'd like to know, Susie - was any of this in your tea leaves?"

"Not in detail: that'd be like asking for the winner of the Grand National and that's not allowed."

"Really, I wonder why not."

"Don't be cynical, Jeffrey. She did say that I was a trifle headstrong and it would get me into trouble - frequently. But not to worry - you'd always be there to extricate me."

"Do you know, Susie, I always imagined having a girlfriend who would look after me, like my mother. She'd bring me breakfast in bed ..."

"... and buy your clothes for you," Susie interjected triumphantly.

I subtly increased speed and whenever the elastic looked like breaking I eased back. Susie knew what I was doing, but she put her head down and ploughed on. It wasn't a wasted effort, because as we arrived above the car boot field it began spotting with rain.

"You're a little demon on a bike, Jeffrey, my legs are like jelly."

"We have to hurry, Susie, it's starting to pour down - they're already packing up."

"Give me my top back, I'll tie it around my waist to cover up the rip."

I dutifully obeyed, then unzipped my back pocket and dug out the fifty pounds. "I'd better take it all, Jeffrey, there'll be no time for shopping around - worse luck."

Susie grabbed the money and was off down the hill. "Go easy," I called after her, "just get the essentials - but don't get me a football shirt with some dork's name across the back." Not that there was much danger of that, I thought ruefully.

I withdrew into a little wood for shelter and found a pool of rainwater. I stripped off and with a wetted trouser leg rubbed the congealed blood from my belly. I dried myself with the other leg, sat down with my clothes in my lap and waited.

"Where are you, Jeffrey?"

"In here, Susie."

"I'm soaked, but have I got a bargain," she exulted, holding up two bulging black bags.

"Have I got any change?"

"No, Jeffrey, we've got a stack of expensive, top designer clothes."

"Hang on, you've been to a boot sale, not Harrods. You've probably bought a load of fakes. Did you give them the once-over?"

"Just a quick look, the woman was ready to drive off. I'm a good judge of character; she had a genuine reason for the sale."

"Let me guess," I interrupted, "she was emigrating to Australia and everything must go." Susie looked nonplussed. "I'm right, aren't I? Fifty pounds on a load of tat."

"Tat or not, Jeffrey, you'll be wearing it, unless you've had a sudden urge to take up Naturism. I wouldn't advise it - you're already turning blue."

I was going all goosepimply, but thank God, the rain had stopped." Find something in there to dry me off."

Susie rummaged in one of the bags and finally handed over some sort of shawl. I turned around and started towelling down. "That's a perky little bum, Jeffrey."

"It's a cyclist's bottom, Susie, firm and springy. To tell you the truth, now I've lost my puppy fat, I think I look kind of svelte."

"Here you are, get your svelte little body into some of these clothes," and she threw over one of the bags. "I'm off to change."

I found a pair of briefs and slipped them on. They must make unisex ones, because I'm sure I've worn something like them before. Susie had shown some mercy - she'd left me a pair of girl's jeans. I soon had them on with a t-shirt, socks and trainers. I could have settled for another couple of t-shirts, but it seemed selfish not to give Susie a little of what she fancied. On went a white blouse and a leather biker jacket.

Susie came back across. She looked the same as when we set out, so one of us wouldn't be facing any awkward questions when they arrived home. Her eyes were shining. "They're right, Jeffrey, clothes do maketh the man. God, you're gorgeous - you look so girly."

I was so surprised that I forgot to blush. "What do you mean girly? This is a butch look."

"You can't do butch, Jeffrey, leave that to me."

"You can't either, Susie, whatever you may think."

"I'm not going to argue, Jeffrey, I'm so happy. You've saved me from having to learn Japanese."

"You've lost me, Susie."

"There's a Japanese game show where they dress boys up as girls. It's wonderful: the studio audience is all schoolgirls."

"Ah, one of those torture shows. What happens?"

"I'm a bit hazy about that - it's all in Japanese - it's double Dutch to me. It's very tastefully done. They dress the boys as prom queens and ask a few questions. They squirm a little, but they're awfully cute."

"What has all this to do with me?"

"Asians boys are more androgynous than western ones: I thought I'd have to find myself a Japanese boyfriend. I couldn't believe my luck when I saw you sitting there playing with your hair."

"I don't play with my hair."

"Yes you do - and in a very girly way. I'm not the only one who's noticed."

I didn't want to know if I had any more admirers, but I was curious about Susie's viewing habits, "Where have you been watching Japanese television?"

"YouTube, Jeffrey."

"Susie, the Internet is leading you astray. It's a pernicious influence and I'm the one who's being made to suffer. I'm at impressionable age - today's events could scar me for life."

"You seem to be taking it all in your stride, Jeffrey."

"I think I may be experiencing post traumatic shock right now. Why else would I be happy dressing up for you?"

"Look on the bright side, Jeffrey, if you suffer any permanent psychological damage, we can always sue Google."