Susie and Jeffrey 1 - 2 by Jamie Hayworth

Chapter 1

"Hi, Jeffrey, I'm Susie Jones your new girlfriend."

Startled, I swung around, and, instead of my bike chain, her bare midriff received a long spray of WD-40. I wasn't too upset - I hadn't wasted the genuine article, but the pound shop version: good enough for a cheap bike - and a cheeky girl.

"Ooh, that tickles!" she laughed, as she flipped the liquid out of her navel, which I couldn't help noticing was a cute little innie. I've got one just like it - that's probably the only thing we'll have in common.

Spending the mid-September evening in the garden had mellowed my mood, which softened further, when looking up I saw a smiling face glowing with good humour. Instead of a characteristic sullen response - telling her, she was no friend of mine - I managed an almost friendly, "Where did you come from?"

"Over the fence: we've just moved in. Back-to-back gardens - isn't that going to be handy?" she beamed, and bit into a James Grieve that she'd helped herself to on her way down the path. "Dee-luscious," she grinned, and licked the juice from the side of her mouth. "Quite a little Garden of Eden you've got here: is it all your own work?"

"No, I guess I inherited it. It more or less looks after itself."

As I watched her eating the apple, I realised she wasn't only a new neighbour but also a new schoolmate. If she was serious about this girlfriend business, there'd be no escape - we could end up like Siamese twins.

"You're the Susie Jones in our sixth form, aren't you?"

"Right, and you're Jeffrey Smith; you know what that makes us, Jeffrey?"

"Yeah, Susie, a cliche, but not boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Give it a chance," she smiled, and then rattled me by adding, "you don't know what you've been missing, hiding yourself away. Gee, but you took some flushing out; I've heard of a low profile but you were practically invisible - like the wise virgin who hides her light under a bushel," she laughed, and came a little closer. "Are you all right, Jeffrey? You look a little pale."

Flustered would have been nearer the mark. Did I want a girlfriend? If I did, this was the only way I was likely to get one. What I needed was some thinking time. Meanwhile some harmless boy-girl chitchat seemed appropriate. Come on, it can't be that difficult. The familiar odour of WD-40 wafted upwards and gave me inspiration. "Gee, Susie, you smell nice, just like my bike."

I took advantage of her choking fit to wheel my bike into the shed and get a dollop of Swarfega. By the time Susie recovered, I had the padlock in place.

"Aw, come on, let me have a look inside," she pleaded.

"There's nothing that would interest you."

"Jeffrey, you're such a little tease. What's in there? I want to see," she pouted.

"No, a boy's shed is no place for a single girl: you'll have to wait until after we're married."

"Jeffrey!"

"Susie!"

Susie sighed and tossed the apple core onto the compost heap. "Okay, forget it for now. What's that you're rubbing into your hands?"

"Swarfega, top stuff, you should get some - it removes all sorts of gunk," I replied, scrutinising her face.

"Make-up isn't gunk, Jeffrey. You'll come to appreciate it, believe me."

I was enjoying sparring with her, but I wanted to know what was really going on. "Susie, all kidding aside, there's only one reason I can think of for you wanting me as a boyfriend."

"And what's that, Jeffrey?"

"My mother's paying you."

"Do you know what you're saying, Jeffrey?" Susie spluttered.

"Ah well, maybe you're doing it as a favour," I wavered.

"That's a pretty big favour for a stranger - why would I do that?"

"I don't know, perhaps my mother knows your mother and ... No! I didn't start this - you should be explaining to me."

"First, you tell me why your mother's so desperate for you to have a girlfriend," Susie countered.

She'd touched a sore spot and the Jeffrey of this last summer surfaced, "That's none of your business! Get back over the fence and let's forget the whole thing."

To my surprise Susie muttered, "If that's want you want, Jeffrey," and slouched off. It seemed so out of character, but it was quite affecting watching her walk away into the setting sun. When she hesitated and started shuffling atop the fence, I gave in and called out, "Did you do much acting at your last school, Susie?"

"Don't be such a smart-ass, Jeffrey; come and help me down, I've snagged my bloody pants."

I jogged over and pulled her trouser leg free. She repaid me with a smile, "Thanks, Jeffrey, now which side of the fence is it to be?"

I'm wanting something: maybe it's Susie. I hope so - otherwise this could be a big mistake. "My side, Susie, my side - Mum would really like me to have a girlfriend."

"Don't start that again, Jeffrey!"

"Look, I suppose I should explain. I don't know why, but these last few months I've been behaving a little oddly. It's not surprising my mother's having some funny ideas."

"What exactly have you done to upset your mother?" demanded Susie.

"Oh, nothing so awful, I've just been a little reclusive."

"Come on, the whole truth."

"Well, I've spent almost the entire summer playing Robinson Crusoe in my bedroom, and when I have come out I've hardly said a word," I confessed - "sometimes I think I'm producing leavemealone instead of testosterone."

"I'm just the Girl Friday you need," enthused Susie, "I'm taking Psychology, Sociology and ..."

"... and Astrology," I laughed, "to go with Kidology and Codology."

"No, Biology," she snorted, "and they are all serious subjects: wait and see how I ferret out the secrets of your character. I'll bring forth a whole new you."

"I'm afraid you're in for a big disappointment."

"Then, it'll just be a bit of harmless fun," she smiled, before adding, "What other funny ideas has your mother had?"

"Well, when she's not suggesting I get a girlfriend, she's urging me to join the scouts or sea cadets - you know, mix with other boys," I shuddered, "as if there aren't enough of them at school."

"You don't want to be one of the lads then."

"Susie, I don't even want to try to be one of the lads." I paused before adding, "Just between you and me, that's not my biggest worry, because it's not really in her power - what is in her power though, is to get married again. Not because she wants a husband, but because she wants me to have a father's influence- whatever good that would do."

"So, Jeffrey, I'll be saving you and your mother from a fate worse than death."

"That pretty much sums it up," I smiled, "Come on and meet the parent."

On our way to the house I said, "Susie, I'm still puzzled why you want me for a boyfriend: you could have had your pick of the sixth form."

"But I've got my pick of the sixth form," she cooed, as I opened the back door.

Mum was on the sofa cleaning the silver. It's Dad's cups and medals from his amateur football days. I saw the tear in her eye when she looked up. Susie noticed too and put her arm around my waist. In the uneasy silence that followed, it came home to me what a self-centred little wretch I'd been this last summer. Okay then, better suffer ill than do ill. "Hey Mum, you won't believe this - I've got myself a girlfriend," and I pushed Susie forward.

"Hello, Mrs Smith, I'm Susie Jones, the lucky girl."

I had my first reward; the big smile on my mother's face as she shook Susie's hand. "You don't know how pleased I am to meet you Susie. I hope you know what you are taking on, I think Jeffrey may be somewhat lacking in social skills."

"Don't worry, Mrs Smith, Jeffrey is exactly the kind of boy I've been looking for - I'm looking forward to reforming him."

I would have liked to hear all their conversation, but it was too embarrassing - I'm not an object to be talked about in the third person. I escaped into the kitchen. Do mothers and girlfriends always get on that well? As I washed my hands, it occurred to me that from now on it might be two against one.

I think I was right to be wary, because somehow we wound up in my bedroom with the door closed. Call me old-fashioned, but I was envisioning more of a Jane Austen style courtship.

"Isn't this great, Jeffrey?"

"What, Susie?"

"Me getting into your room at the first attempt - what luck! You were right, your mother really must be desperate."

"Yeah, it's hard to imagine how things could have worked out better. Don't be shy of making yourself at home."

"Thanks, Jeffrey, I won't," she replied, firing up my computer.

"Do you know what irony is, Susie?" I asked.

"Sure as shooting I do. Why, got a shirt that needs pressing?" smirked Susie.

I grimaced. Let her poke around all she pleased, she'd find nothing. As for what her motives were ... well, while she was analysing me, I'd be analysing her - and may the best man win.

"Hey, Jeffrey, what's this mp3 Shambleau? It's the only thing that sounds mysterious."

"Classic science fiction - a cautionary tale, which, Susie, I've duly noted. Great to listen to in bed with the lights out."

"What else do you like to do in bed with the lights out, Jeffrey?"

"Well, best of all, I like to drift off to the Shipping Forecast - read by one of the female announcers."

Susie rolled her eyes before double-clicking on the file. After a couple of minutes she said, " She's got one sexy voice - do I sound like that?"

"No, you're not American."

"Right! I want to take it home: she can give me some elocution lessons."

"There's a spare flash drive in the drawer, you can use that."

After a good root through the contents of the drawer, she found the drive and Shambleau was soon in her possession - as no doubt, were some other files. With a satisfied smile, she turned around and surveyed the rest of the room.

"This is a pretty Spartan looking set-up, Jeffrey."

"Spartan - Susie, believe me, one thing I'm not cut out to be is a Spartan."

"Okay then, how about austere?"

"How can a room full of books be austere?"

"No posters, no photos, no ornaments, and - no cuddly toys. I'll have to bring some of my things over - brighten it up a bit. How about that, Jeffrey?"

"Is that really necessary?"

"Course it is, I'll be spending lots of time up here. I want it to be a home from home."

"Don't you think you're rushing things a little Susie? After all, we may not be compatible."

"Let me worry about that, Jeffrey, all you have to do is ..."

"... lie back and think of England," I smiled, and flopped back on the bed.

"Now you're rushing things, Jeffrey," she grinned. "Back to business: I want to ask you a favour."

"Ask away."

"Tomorrow I have to deliver some magazines for my dad. He's an estate agent and he's putting out an advertising freebie. You know the thing, news pinched from the local paper, Internet jokes and reader's letters. Actually, for this first issue, I wrote the reader's letters," she confided, "I'm really proud of the one about dog poo - and I had to edit the jokes," she continued, "Some of them are only fit for the local rugby club. Dad still plays rugby. He's a second row forward. Mum's afraid he'll have a heart attack."

"Susie, what's the favour," I interrupted.

"Would you come with me? I don't know the area and I don't want to be walking the streets alone."

"Oh it's pretty safe around here ..."

"Oh come on, Jeffrey, you know you'd never forgive yourself if anything happened to me,"

"I think I would, Susie, after all, I've only known you for half an hour. But, I suppose being a boyfriend has its obligations."

"Hey, it won't be plain sailing for me either: my dad would like me to have a big, beefy, rugby playing boyfriend in his own image - you're going to be a major disappointment," she chided.

"The whole first fifteen fancy you like mad, wouldn't you like to date one of them?"

"Would I sugar! I don't have an Oedipus complex," she huffed.

"You know best," I demurred. "What time do you want to start?"

"Be at your front gate with your bike at six in the morning."

"Six in the morning - it'll still be dark."

"Yeah, that's why I want you with me."

"Let's go at a more reasonable time."

"No, I want to get it out of the way, then we'll have the rest of the day to ourselves."

"But it's Sunday, I have a lie in, breakfast in bed, read the papers ..."

"Jeffrey! You're spoiled rotten. Come on, if two hours with me exhausts you, you can go back to bed."

"All right, all right, but my mother's going to think I've had a brainstorm."

"That's agreed then. One more thing: we're sort of company representatives, so we want to look smart," she explained, advancing towards my wardrobe. "Let's see what you've got in here."

"Okay, but don't scream when you find the severed head."

"Very funny, Jeffrey - if you don't want me to look, you only have to say."

"No, go ahead, you can probably give me some useful fashion tips."

"Don't worry, from now on we'll be shopping together," she threatened, as she emerged with an armful of clothes.

"Hey, Susie, this is all brand new stuff - I'm saving it for ..."

"For what, Jeffrey?"

"Well, for when I wear out the old stuff," I complained.

"Don't be contrary," she replied, making for the door, "I'll see you in the morning."

At least I had a good parting shot: "Sooosie, the light switch is on the left as you go in."

"Go in where?"

"My shed, dummy; I know you swiped the key out of the drawer."

Susie started to colour up.

"Would you believe it? I've made you blush before you made me blush: what were the odds against that?"

"Pretty long," she sighed.

"Aw, don't look so disappointed. Anyway you can do me a favour; take my mother with you, it'll put her mind at rest - tell her you're borrowing a can of oil."

I resigned myself to the fact of having a shed with chintz curtains. But as I lay there, and thought about Susie, I didn't really care.

Perhaps I have had a brainstorm.

Chapter 2

"Morning, Jeffrey, I've had a full breakfast, and I'm ready for a fight with anyone," announced Susie, and gave me a punch on the arm.

"Hang on, Susie, I've had no breakfast and I've not woken up yet. I can barely keep my eyes open."

"Cheer up sleepy, Jeff, and take a few deep breaths," she warbled. "Then tell me why you've got four bikes in your shed."

"Don't call me Jeff, please; I'm definitely not a Jeff."

"Sorry, Jeffreee, it was just poetic licence. Now about the bikes."

"I don't know; I must have an acquisitive nature - it's not only bikes. What did you think when you looked inside? "

"Squirrel and nuts."

"You can scoff, but you can be certain of one thing - I won't be collecting anymore girlfriends. You're going to be my one and only."

We set off. I ended up pushing my bike and Susie's bike plus trailer, while she delivered the magazines. That was fine with me: less chance of some ferocious little terrier snapping at my ankles. As the sleepiness wore off, I found I was enjoying chatting with Susie and watching her go up and down the paths. It must have showed, because she said, "What are you smiling at, Jeffrey?"

"I'm simply happy to be with you, Susie, perhaps I'm not so odd after all."

"You're not odd, Jeffrey, just different."

"Not that different: look at us, Susie, we're dressed exactly the same."

"Yeah, we are, aren't we? It's okay though, I don't mind if you want to dress like me - it's rather sweet."

"Wait a minute, you picked out these clothes for me," I objected.

"So I did. Well, I suppose sports top, jogging trousers and trainers are chilly, early morning, paper-delivering clothes."

"Some people might think it peculiar."

"Only if you're wearing a bra and panties," she laughed. "Anyway, if you're really worried about looking like me, you should do something about your hair."

"It's cut every month," I protested.

"Change your barber, Jeffrey, he's using rubber scissors."

"That would be awkward. We have an odd relationship," I hesitated.

"Go on, I promise not to be shocked," Susie teased.

"He's coming up to ninety years old and he says he's never going to retire. He wants to die with his scissors in his hand and his comb in someone's hair. I don't want to disappoint him: I'm his only customer with a full head of hair. In fact, I'm practically his only customer - he's outlived the rest. Anyway, I like going there, it's peaceful - and he doesn't talk about football."

"That doesn't explain why your hair's so long."

"Well, his first words are always, 'Just a trim Jeffrey'. I always agree, and this is the result - it's sort of crept down on me," I grinned.

"And you like it long, don't you?"

"Uh, I guess so. It's ... it's, oh I don't know ..."

"Sensual," offered Susie, swirling her hair around with a shake of her head.

I was thankful for an opportunity to change the subject. "Susie, we're coming to the House of Cats, okay if I just hang back."

"What's the matter got an allergy?"

Before I could answer, Susie had her first sight of the House of Cats: "Crikey, Jeffrey! Who lives there? Norman Bates!"

The old house stood on its own little hill. It was the only one in town with wooden shutters on its windows - and the only one with umpteen cats prowling the grounds.

"I wish he did - at least I'd be safe."

"I wouldn't be too sure, Jeffrey," Susie winked, before adding, "Come on, who lives there?"

"Just an eccentric old woman, Miss Hackett. A lot of people believe she's a witch and steer clear of her."

"But you don't believe that."

"Of course not. I wouldn't run away with the other kids, and somehow I ended up going messages and doing little jobs for her."

"That doesn't explain why you want to avoid her."

"Well, she started asking me in for cups of tea and I was embarrassed to keep making excuses."

"Scared she was going to turn you into a cat?" Susie laughed.

"No! But with dozens of cats having free run of the place, what do you suppose the house is like inside? There'll be cat pee and cat poo everywhere - including the refreshments."

"This is too good to miss - come on, don't be such a wuss, I want to meet a real live witch."

"I told you, she's not a witch: she's a Cataholic, like the Pope."

"Oh, Jeffrey, after that I'm going to show you no mercy, you deserve everything that's coming to you."

Susie seized my arm and dragged me up the path through the ranks of assorted cats. Halfway along, the front door opened and there was no dignified way out.

Miss Hackett greeted us with a big smile. "Jeffrey, how nice to see you. It's been so long - and you've brought a friend with you. What a lovely young couple you make - my very own Hansel and Gretel," she chuckled.

Susie beamed all over her face.

I was sitting on the sofa. Susie had monopolised Miss Hackett and was now in the kitchen with her, which was some insurance against drinking cat pee. I had a cute little kitten purring in my lap. We were getting along just fine. I guess I must be a cat person. As far as I could see and smell the house was spotless: Miss Hackett must be the world's number one cat trainer - or maybe she has been changing people into cats, I mused.

Susie reappeared first. "Hey, Jeffrey, it's a regular pharmacopoeia back there," she grinned. "We made up a very special cup of tea, when we've finished we're having our tea leaves read."

Before I could squash that idea, Miss Hackett appeared with a plate of cakes.

"Help yourself, Jeffrey, Susie told me you missed breakfast in bed to help her out. He's such a sweet boy isn't he, Susie?"

"Sweet as a peach, Miss Hackett, sweet as a peach."

I reckoned having a mouthful of cake was the smartest way to deal with the teasing. So, let me eat cake for breakfast.

"That's right, Jeffrey, tuck in," encouraged Miss Hackett, "you've lost weight over the summer."

"I've burned off some puppy fat on my bike, that's all," I grunted, and stuffed in another cake hoping that would satisfy her. I was relieved when she and Susie started discussing the finer points of fortune telling. I took my opportunity, swirled the remains of my tea in the cup and swallowed the lot - tea leaves and all - she was going to need X-ray vision to read my future.

"Pass over your cup, Jeffrey," Susie smiled. Her face fell when she saw it was empty. "Jeffrey! How could you? Look what he's done, Miss Hackett."

"Never mind, Susie, let me read your cup - Jeffrey is sure to be in there."

I took my chance and eased the little kitten onto the floor - now was the time to make my escape. "I'll let you two get on with it, I'd better get back to the bikes, they aren't locked and you can't be too careful. Thanks for everything, Miss Hackett." I was on my way before they could reply.

Ten minutes later Susie joined me back at the bikes. "That was rude of you, Jeffrey, disappearing like that."

"Sorry, Susie, I thought you might like a bit of privacy."

"No you didn't, you just wanted to get out. Anyhow do you want to know your future, Jeffrey?"

I smiled and sang, "Susie and Jeffrey are gonna get married."

"How did you know that?" she demanded.

"Gee, Susie, what else would she tell you - she could see you're totally besotted with me. By the way, do we get married before or after you win the lottery?"

"You can laugh, but there are more things in heaven and earth, Jeffrey - I can learn a lot from Miss Hackett."

"One thing she does know something about," I conceded, "is how to control cats; it's amazing how they were all so well behaved."

"Not so amazing, Jeffrey, you were the only one in there with any balls."

"What about you, Susie? I'm pretty sure you're not lacking in that department - metaphorically speaking," I quickly added.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Jeffrey, from someone who was so happy with a little pussy in his lap. Would you like one of your own?"

"I don't know about that, Susie: I was quite fond it, but it's a big responsibility. A kitten's not only for Christmas, you know."

"Never mind Christmas, what do you do for Halloween, Jeffrey?"

"Nothing, that sort of thing doesn't interest me: I'll be having a quiet night in."

"Things are different now, Jeffrey - you've got a girlfriend, and the school's having a dance."

"Susie, in six weeks' time you'll have forgotten all about me. I'll have bored you to tears long before that."

"You're not putting me off, we're going to make a perfect Hansel and Gretel."

"There's no way I'm prancing around in a pair of tight leather shorts, or any sort of shorts for that matter," I spluttered.

"No problem, Jeffrey, I'll be the one in the shorts, you'll be wearing the dress."

This didn't come as a total surprise to me. I may be naive, but I'm not a fairy who's just fallen off the Christmas tree. "Susie, I think I should explain something. Appearances can be deceptive. In here, "I said, tapping my head "is a hundred percent boy brain."

"A hundred percent?"

"Yes, one hundred percent."

"How do you work that out, Jeffrey?"

"Because it's by far the best maths brain in the school," I said somewhat immodestly, "and maths is real boy stuff. What have you got to say about that?"

"I don't like sums, Jeffrey."

"Precisely. You're an ologist - but I won't hold that against you, as long as you realise that I have the archetypal male mathematical brain. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, Jeffrey," she smirked, "You may have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but you've the brain of Einstein."

I didn't like the 'weak and feeble', but I let it go. Why argue? A couple of weeks from now it'll be someone else's problem.

We reached the end of our round, 'Millionaires' Row', up by the golf course. "Best behaviour, Jeffrey. If dad gets a few clients from around here, I'll get an increased dress allowance."

"You should do what I do, Susie - let your mother buy all your clothes."

"Oh, Jeffrey, you're going to be like putty in my hands."

I was still pondering that last remark when we arrived at the last house on the route. The former farm stood at the end of a rutted lane. I secured the bikes, removed my pump, and we set off down the path.

"Don't you think you're overdoing the precautions, Jeffrey? Nobody's going to steal your pump."

"You never know who's lurking in the shrubbery. This is top of the range - why risk it?"

"All right, but when we're in town shopping, I don't want you walking around with a bicycle pump in your hand."

I'd no idea what she was talking about - anyway, I usually stuck it down my trouser leg, so she wouldn't have to worry.

We arrived at a chained five-barred gate, "Stick it in that gap and let's be on our way."

"No, we can hop over, come on," Susie urged.

"Hold on, there's a dog patrolling the grounds."

"Hey, do you know what kind of dog that is, Jeffrey?"

"Yeah, Susie, it's a big dog."

"Don't worry, Jeffrey, I'm fully prepared for this situation."

"You've brought along a tranquilliser gun, have you?"

"No, Jeffrey. You're not the only one with a generous helping of the old grey matter. I've done my research: I know almost as much about dog psychology as human psychology."

"And where did you get all this doggy data?"

"Where else, Jeffrey, the Internet: it's my number one source of knowledge."

"Oooh." The look of dismay on my face only spurred Susie on.

"You must never be frightened of a dog, Jeffrey. A dog will only bite if it senses fear: then it thinks - first bite is best bite - here goes. If you stand still and talk softly but firmly, there's no danger. Only those who hit out or run away get bitten. Come on, once we get in there, we'll soon be the best of friends."

"Aaah." I still wasn't convinced - and it showed.

"Have faith, Jeffrey, all the best dog trainers are women. It's the female hormones; once that dog gets my scent, I'll have him jumping through hoops."

"I've never heard of that. Besides it won't do me any good, I smell of cat."

"You'll be all right, I've got enough for both of us. Now come on! Don't be such a wimp."

"Forget it, Susie, better a live dog than a dead lion."

"Watch me, Jeffrey, this is real boy stuff." And with that she clambered over the gate and dropped down on the other side.

Susie strolled to the centre of the yard where she met up with a somewhat bemused dog. "See, Jeffrey, I've already got him mesmerised," she called over her shoulder. "Now listen and learn."

Susie halted and began to speak in a low soothing voice. The hound slowly circled, before nonchalantly stepping forward and seizing her trousers at the top of the thigh. A loud ripping sound followed and the dog loped away before turning to admire its handiwork.

Susie stood mute, frozen to the spot. I had the good manners not to say 'I told you so', and helpfully offered; "Back up slowly to the gate, Susie."

The dog moved first: with a menacing growl, it advanced for a second attack.

"Come on, Susie, run for it!"

"Ooooohhhhhh!"

Adrenaline's a wonderful thing: despite the flapping trouser leg, Susie made it to the gate first and without checking her stride, vaulted over and fell in a heap at my feet. She's quite an athlete, I thought admiringly, just before a snarling Hound of the Baskervilles scrambled onto the top of the gate and launched itself at me.

"Aaaaaaahhhhh!"

I threw out my arms to no avail, after an initial jolt, a terrific bang on my chest knocked me flat. As I lay there winded, a warm, wet sensation spread up my chest. I raised my head and saw twin streams of blood pumping out of the dog's nose. My rising panic subsided - it wasn't my blood. I was even happier when the dog gave a convulsive jerk and the fountains ceased.

I propped myself up and looked across at Susie. "Live lion, dead dog," she gasped. "What happened? Are you okay, Jeffrey?"

"Fine thanks, Susie. What a stroke of luck It's burst a blood vessel. That's the danger of a red meat diet and a violent temper."

"I don't think so, Jeffrey, look in its mouth - the pump has proved as mighty as the sword."

She was right: the pump had disappeared down the dog's throat. I gave a shudder. "Did I do that, Susie?"

"You must have, Jeffrey. I think you may have overreacted. Couldn't you just have bopped it on the nose?"

"He wasn't playing to Marquis of Queensbury rules, Susie," I griped, as I pushed the dog off. "Oh, look at this." I read out the name engraved on its expensive collar - "Champion Prince Kazarak Hinari. What are we going to do, Susie? I've cruelly dispatched pedigreed canine royalty - and, no doubt, a beloved family pet."

"There'll be some awkward questions coming our way, Jeffrey. We need a better story than the truth; if only we can think of one." Susie paused and frowned. "It'd be easier if some of that blood was yours. You're a right bloody mess."

"We're in a right bloody mess, Susie. I hope you're fully prepared for this situation."

We sat in a glum silence. Then Susie's face brightened. "Well, Jeffrey, at least we've learned one important lesson from all this."

"And what would that be, Susie?" I sighed.

"Don't believe everything you read on the Internet."