In which we reach the end and find a beginning.
Miss P found the boys in the kitchen. Billy had his fingers deep inside a fish, and Mark was leaning over the sink, throwing up.
‘I’ll do it for you this once, mate,’ Billy said. ‘But you’ll have to learn one day. You’ll be doing a lot of this soon.’
‘Not if I can help it,’ Mark said, wiping his mouth and accepting the glass of water Miss P handed to him. ‘Oh, watch’ya, Miss.’
‘Mark, Billy, dear hearts.’ Miss P perched her creaking skirt on a handy stool. ‘There is something I would like you to do for me.’
Billy dabbed his sleeve against his forehead.
‘What’s that, Miss?’ Mark asked as he turned on the tap so that Billy could wash his hands.
‘I know your ambition runs further than the saloon bar,’ she replied. ‘And I have had something of an idea. Are you two boys free for a short drive?’
‘Am I ever!’ Mark’s eyes lit up, and his mouth burst into a boyish grin.
‘Then would the two of you bring my hampers and put them in Wilbur’s boot?’
‘Wilbur?’ Billy dried his hands on a tea towel.
‘Wilbur Gunn,’ Miss P said as if it was meant to explain something. ‘He lives on. Look it up.’
‘You’re a strange old bird,’ Mark said with a laugh. ‘What you on about?’
‘Research,’ Miss P repeated. ‘It is what you should be doing. But first, the hampers. Fleetly fly.’ She waved her fingers towards the stairs.
The boys raced up to Miss P’s room to find her hampers packed and the bed neatly stripped, ready for the laundry.
‘Say,’ said Billy as they carried the first one between them along the corridor. ‘Your house is the same as mine.’
‘That’s my room in there,’ Mark said.
Billy looked in. ‘You’ve got a Lugosi poster?’
‘Bought it on eBay from a cinema in America. It’s an original.’
‘No way!’
‘I got another one if you want it.’
Billy nearly dropped the hamper. ‘You serious?’
‘Just keep your end up and mind the stairs.’
Once they had dragged both baskets from the inn and fitted them into the boot of the Lagonda, they secured them with a rope.
Along the seafront, the festival was still in full swing. Someone had righted Old Sam and propped him up in a chair where he could play his shanties without falling over. Mark noticed that his mum was talking to some of the old fishermen, and they appeared to be getting on.
‘This is a strange place,’ he said.
‘All looks very matey,’ Billy said. ‘But I hate to think what’s gonna happen when Mrs Lumpsucker sets Ralph free.’
‘And so, we are ready.’ Miss P was at the inn door, pulling on a driving glove. She sniffed the air.
‘What’s up?’ Mark asked, noticing the way she wrinkled her nose and glanced to the inn’s upper floor. ‘Gas leak?’
Miss P smiled at him, giggled cheekily and snapped the other glove into place. ‘Just smelling for rain and deciding if I need to put the top up. I don’t think so,’ she said. It wasn’t the truth, but there had been enough truths today. The air smelt of sea salt and heather. The only thing missing was realisation. ‘Nearly there.’ She opened the driver’s door. ‘Now then, boys,’ she said, slipping onto the leather seat. ‘Wilbur is a racer, so I am afraid you will have to cosy up in the front because there’s no back seat.’ She leant across and pushed open the passenger door. ‘Pile in.’
Mark stood back for Billy. Billy stood back for Mark. ‘You first, mate,’ he said.
‘No, after you, my friend.’
‘No, I insist.’
‘Honestly!’ Miss P exclaimed. ‘I think I might have gone too far this time. Just get in, the pair of you.’
They both tried to climb in at the same time and fell over each other, finally settling on Billy in the middle and Mark sitting half over his lap.
The engine purred into life like a cat who had been woken from sleep by its loving mistress, and Miss P slipped Wilbur into gear.
‘Up to the end to turn around, I think,’ she said as they pulled away.
Mark hung one arm over the door, and Billy put one around his shoulders. They waved at the villagers as they passed and received waves in return. Miss P turned the car in a graceful circle and tooted the horn as they returned. She waved a gloved hand elegantly at Sandra, who was talking to Billy’s father. ‘I will give your boys something for their kindness,’ she called.
The car picked up speed as she headed for the hill.
‘We are not going far,’ Miss P said. ‘And I am afraid you will have to walk back as I am wanted elsewhere. But there is something I would like you to see.’
The boys sat back as best they could and enjoyed the ride. If they were honest, they enjoyed being pressed close to each other. It wasn’t the feeling of being physical that stirred them; it was the knowledge that they were friends.
‘Something is very nearly settled,’ Miss P said to herself. She listened to Billy pointing out the boats, telling Mark their names, their ages, and who owned which one. She kept her eyes on the road as they curved up and out of the small bay, but she kept her ears on Mark’s questions.
When was the village founded? How many people lived there? When was the church built? He had taken a sudden and keen interest in the place that his mother had decided to call home. He now bore her no grudge for taking him away from his old life.
At the top of the slope, they turned to follow the cliff road high above the sea, and Miss P started to sing. ‘Some of us learn, some of us teach. The sum of us was both the parts of each.’
‘What’s that, Miss?’ Mark asked, distracted from his questions.
‘Just a song that’s not yet been written.’ She pulled in at the side of the road and cut the engine. ‘Come with me.’
She led them to a bench on the grass verge that gave way to the cliffs. Sitting, and inviting the boys to sit on either side, she looked down at the village. Villagers milled around the podium. She saw the houses clambering up the hillside, the small bay bending around to meet the far rocks, and the sea glinting in the midday sun.
‘Oh look,’ she said, pointing. ‘What do you suppose that is? It seems a man is being dragged towards the water by an outraged lady. The vicar is giving pursuit and waving his arms. And is that fat lady wearing any clothes? Whatever is going on?’
The boys strained to see but from the sounds drifting up from below, what was going on soon became apparent.
‘I think Ralph is in for a bit of a hard time from his missus, Miss,’ Billy said. ‘Can’t think why.’
Billy and Mark exchanged worried glances across Miss P’s lap.
‘I shouldn’t worry, boys,’ she said, lighting up a slim Hamlet. ‘You can rest assured that Ralph won’t be giving you any trouble. But he may be giving you an idea, Mark.’
‘An idea? What d’you mean, Miss?’
‘Oh, dear Cod,’ Miss P said under her breath. ‘Shakespeare was so much easier.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Think nothing of it, mere words.’ Miss P enjoyed her cigar in silence.
The boys watched Ralph being dragged into the sea. His wife pushed him under and stood on him until the vicar waded in to save him. Mrs Lumpsucker stood on the shore shouting, and the villagers came to watch, laughing and raising their glasses.
Cigar smoke drifted across the boy’s line of vision, and they wafted it away. Miss P stood and wandered around behind the bench so that her smoking wouldn’t disturb them. The smoke was destined for the angry fisherman now being pulled from the water, limp but still protesting.
‘What did you want to show us?’ Mark asked, his eyes on the spectacle below.
‘You will see,’ Miss P replied. ‘Just keep looking.’
Mark watched for a further five minutes but couldn’t see what she was getting at. Ralph was dragged away by his wife, and everyone else drifted towards the inn.
‘I should get back to the pub,’ he said. ‘Mum will need help.’
‘Did you know,’ Billy said, leaning back on the bench and pointing. ‘The Fisherman’s Arms used to be called The Lookout.’
‘Yeah?’
‘It changed its name about a hundred years ago. There was a murder there, and it was the only way to get rid of the ghost.’
‘Come off it.’
‘Yeah, honest. The place was haunted.’ Billy sat up. ‘In fact, it ain’t the only place in the village that’s haunted. There were loads of sightings back in the nineteenth century. Things calmed down after they changed the village name.’
‘What was it called before?’ An idea sprang to Mark’s mind.
‘Honesty Point,’ Billy said. ‘That was ’cos the village never got into smuggling or pirating, stuff like that. Its very first name, about nine A.D., was Gewritfisc. I know, naff name, but it got changed after Doomsday Book.’
Mark was fascinated. Who’d have thought the scraggy blonde fisherboy would know this stuff?
‘Some of the old ones still call it Honesty Point,’ Billy chattered on. ‘But the village decided to change it in nineteen-twenty. I like the older names, though; Carping Bay doesn’t sound like what it deserves.’
‘You really like the place, don’t you?’
‘Sometimes. Now and then, I want to get out of it, but it draws me back. Got me hook, line and sinker, you might say.’
‘You know a lot about it.’
‘I know everything about it, mate.’ Billy pointed to the open sea. ‘I spent so many nights out there with Old Sam, me dad and the others telling their stories. It all sinks in.’
‘Stories?’
‘Aye, mate. Got a load of them to tell. I reckon there’s a book in it if I knew someone that wrote proper.’
Mark looked at him so intently that Billy shifted in his seat.
‘What?’ The stare had a worrying intent behind it. ‘Remember, just ’cos you’re me mermaid don’t mean we have to have relations.’
‘Leave it out, fisherboy,’ Mark said and laughed. ‘You’ve just… Well, you just done something to me that no-one’s ever done before.’
‘Go easy, mate. What?’
‘Inspired me. What you doing tomorrow?’
‘Why?’ Billy shifted further along the bench.
‘I got a laptop, you got a story. I got the need to write, and you got the knowledge.’
‘For what?’
Mark stood. ‘We got to get back. We got a book to write.’
‘Me?’
‘Us,’ said Mark.
A new energy raced through his mind, picking up his imagination along the way. He turned to tell Miss P that they were heading for home, but Miss P and Wilbur were nowhere to be seen.
THE END
If you enjoyed this short Miss P story, you might like to investigate the mystery of ‘Remotely,’ her full-length novel.
Buy Remotely Here
‘Remotely’ pokes fun at British reality television.
Britain’s newest and most pointless TV talent competition is coming to Middlestone-On-Sea. ‘So You Think We’re Remotely Interested?’ has taken Friday night viewers by storm as it streams live variety shows from remote, provincial theatres across Britain. The theatre with the most audience votes wins regeneration and revival, and lord knows, Middlestone-on-Sea needs both.
The dying seaside backwater rests its hopes on the performance of two ex-best friends, gay Gary and straight Stag.
The visiting celebrity judge, the mysterious and timeless Miss P, knows that for all to be well, they must mend their broken friendship. But there is no success without trial. She magically swaps Gary and Stag into each other’s bodies. Secrets are learned, comedy ensues, and yet the community remains divided.
Rifts must be healed, differences accepted, and bodies swapped back before the season grand finale in four days’ time, otherwise Middlestone will lose everything.
