10. PUDDINGS

Stu really wasn’t in the best of moods as he’d dashed through the woods after that old fool had spotted them. He knew it had been a mistake to actually be there himself, but, in the end, he was the only one who’d known where the wretched trees were, and he could hardly trust those two puddings Pinky and the Brain to do the whole job without him, could he? Especially not after all that lager they’d necked as he tried to talk them into it.

If only they knew, if only they knew…

It really wasn’t easy being him.

He gratefully reached the van, clambered into it and drove off, leaving those daft puddings behind. Pinky would probably be alright, he thought, and he couldn’t do much about poor old Chris except ring Carol and try to warn her what was going on. After that he drove very carefully, not wanting to attract the attentions of the local plods, and parked the van a couple of streets away from Eve’s place.

He really needed to think, to work out what to do next.

Instead, he thought back to the afternoon. He and his wife had managed to patch up just enough of their differences for once and had actually felt able to speak to each other. Very few people, if any, knew that she wasn’t living there any more, but was living the life of Riley over the other edge of town with that flaming Scottish Estate Agent.

Another pair of puddings…

Since last Christmas, in fact. Had it really been a year already? He remembered it well. She’d come home, bold as brass, and announced that she was off, packed her bags and gone. She hadn’t shown the slightest interest in the kids and how he was going to cope with them without her help, and so he’d just been left alone to juggle the school runs and the packed lunches and the thousand and one other things they needed whilst he tried to earn enough to keep a roof over their heads.

Every so often, and with a lot of reluctance, he could just about persuade her to come over and sit with them for a couple of hours if he had absolutely no other option, but even then he knew he’d be paying the price for it for weeks afterwards.

Then, of course, Stuart Junior had got sick and needed taking to the hospital at least three times a week for his treatment. With the schools being closed yesterday because of the snow, he’d had no choice but to get her to come over and sit with Chloe. He could have taken Chloe along with him, he supposed, but she really hated it when he did that, and so he had promised that she could go shopping with her mates instead, but then the snow had put paid to that too.

Naturally, he didn’t want people to know about what had happened with his wife. He thought it might ruin his image. He knew what people thought of him round here, knew exactly the sorts of things they said whenever he left the room. He knew he still commanded enough respect that they wouldn’t say it to his face, though, and that was worth a lot to him. Finding out that he’d been cuckolded by that smarmy piece would have just made him a laughing stock.

He was his own worst enemy, of course. His reputation preceded him, you might say, and people kind of expected him to get things done. That Vicar at the hospital had oh-so-casually mentioned that it might be nice to get a few Christmas trees for the wards and that they were trying to raise funds for the children’s unit and, nod and a wink, anything he could do to help would be much appreciated.

So he’d had to come up with something quickly. He’d rung his Mum and she’d swapped her shifts at the petrol station and come over to sit with the kids, then he’d gone straight to the pub. The angry words his Mother had shouted after him when he'd told her where he was off had still been ringing in his ears, but he’d needed to think. Pretty soon he’d overheard some of the old blokes chatting over their dominoes game and came up with a plan. It wasn’t much of a plan, he knew that, but it was all he had managed to come up with. Chris just happening to walk into the Oddfellows last night had been a bit of a Godsend, really. Chris really needed some ready cash, everyone in there knew that, which is why they never saw him in there any more, and at least you could rely on Chris to put some effort in. Pinky, on the other hand… Ah, well. At least he was strong, he supposed. Strong but dim… still, he’d survived all these years on it.

He’d got out the van and walked as calmly as he could around to Eve’s place. She was used to him turning up late at night, so he thought she’d be alright about it, but he’d ended up having a bit of a panic when he’d turned into her street and a police car sped along the main road behind him with all it’s blue lights flashing and he’d made a dash for her door.

Stu was livid with Eve, of course, because she’d hardly been very understanding. Why couldn’t she realise? Sometimes she really was better off left in the dark. He was livid with himself as well, of course. Ripping his best jacket was bad enough, but leaving part of it back there in the woods. If someone found that they were bound to put two and two together. He ran out of the house thinking he’d better find some way of disposing of the jacket, and dashed straight into P.C. Golightly coming down the path in the opposite direction.