Realising that there was no choice except for the local's home produced ale,
Thistle and Penn stared at the solitary pump before Penn, with a demented smile, asked, 'Well…um…er, just two pints of the house brew, please my friend.'
'Natural well?'
The visitors exchanged glances, bewildered, 'Sorry? Are we natural? Are we
well?'
'No, no, sorry. Our beer comes from our natural well, our beer reservoir below in the cellar. It is called Trelixir.'
Thistle was almost speechless, stunned, 'Natural reservoir? No way!'
'Indeed. Now, two pints, gents?' Kevin was playing with the strangers while a bemused Barrington looked on. He began to adjust to the change that had come into his life and he welcomed a new beginning.
Penn didn't waste a second with his order, 'Without a doubt, yes! Yes, please!' They stared in total disbelief as two pints of the dark brown, luscious ale were pulled and placed before them. Thistle snorted and grinned towards Kevin, glancing in the direction of Penn who was inhaling the fragrance with his eyes closed, 'So how much does he owe you?'
Kevin shook his head, 'We make our own ale from local crops which is why we call it 'natural beer'. It contains no chemicals or additives, so instead our customers make reasonable suggestions, give ideas or even make a donation for the Midsummer's Day Frivolities.'
Then Penn realized what was being said, 'No way! Are you joking? Or are you serious?'
Thistle nudged him, 'Don’t argue with the man. Er, what are the Midsummer's
Day wotsits or shouldn’t we ask?'
'Midsummer's Day is one of our annual traditional village festivals. All local folk are involved and make contributions one way or another. It's always a success,' he pointed to an empty jug bearing the sign, 'Midsummer's Day', on the end of the bar.
Thistle nudged Penn, 'Go on then. Make a donation.' Penn stood open-mouthed and speechless.
Barrington moved off around the lounge collecting empties and happily wiping tables now with Kevin in control of the locals at the bar. In one studied gulp Thistle downed his tankard then turned towards Penn before waving at Kevin for a refill, 'D'you know, I think I'm beginning to like this place.' But before he could say another word he was interrupted by Thistle who had assumed a more confident manner while leaning in a puddle of beer at his elbow. He cleared his throat like a teacher and lowered his voice.
Kevin gave him his full attention.
'Excuse me sir, but may I ask you for your help in our enquiries?' His eyes swept the room, then from an inside pocket he produced a photograph which caused Kevin to lean forward and scrutinize the image.
'I don’t suppose you recognise this man?'
Kevin recognised Fly at once but not wishing to upset Edlyn, he shook his head,
'He’s not from round here.'
'Oh, we know that, and we're not even professional sleuths,' he started grinning smugly and as he held the picture up for all to see, Barrington reappeared behind them discreetly holding a finger to his lips indicating to all his locals that no one should get involved.
Thistle raised his voice a little, 'So, has he been in here in the last few days, or passed through the village at all?'
Kevin repeated, 'Passed through?'
By then the small group of other drinkers were giggling and obviously entertained by something in the direction of Thistle and Penn. Thistle was smiling with confidence,
'Well if he does come in, we’d be grateful if you’d let us know.'
Kevin and the group at the bar assured the detectives of their support, 'Be glad to',
'That's definite', 'Oh, yez.'
The new barman looked at his new regulars, all in good humour, and laughed to himself.
Thistle and Penn finished their drinks and moved around the saloon, patting shoulders with good wishes and shaking hands, 'See you soon', 'Take care now' and, 'Bye for now.'
Already, they felt as regular as regulars.
Kevin turned to Barrington, 'Er...Thank you very much, boss, but now that it's a little quieter, do you mind if I nip home and get changed? I'm a little damp. Be back in no time.'
Barrington gave him a knowing wink, 'No Problem, Kevin. So far so good just
don't be too long. OK?' Kevin rushed out through the swing doors and along Knacker's Track to change his clothes.
After their drinks Thistle and Penn sat outside the inn watching the people, 'Hey Bob, I've changed my mind. I never thought I'd feel so good being down here, so far out of the way. I don't suppose you fancy a quick dip down at the beach, do you?'
'Not really, dear chum. I'm a bit too squiffy at the moment. Why don't we go for a good old, healthy walk? There's that hill in the middle of the island, and I'd love to go up there and by the time we get back, we'll be in better shape and we can go for a swim then? What do you say?'
'Suits me. Let's go.'
By late afternoon they were beginning to doubt the wisdom of their trek. Exhausted and way off the beaten track, they staggered into a tiny group four or five cottages overlooking the village on one side and the sea on the other.
The air was heady with herbal aromas, and the sound of someone playing a flute eased their stumblings towards a brightly lit veranda where a small group of villagers sat overlooking the gentle waves countless feet below. They collapsed into the nearest vacant chairs, hardly able to keep their eyes open, mesmerised by the blue sky melting into the sea somewhere between themselves and who knew where. From either side, the curious locals humoured them with winks and smiles and waves. They seemed bemused by the way our private eyes took off their jackets and boots amid all their puffing and panting. Clearly, they drew so much attention they might well have been aliens, although Penn supposed it likely that they smelled a bit too. They sat in silence, bathed in cordiality, enchanted.
'Can I help, my friends? You look exhausted.' He had appeared from nowhere, happy and humming to himself as he wiped down their table, 'My name is Dick.'
'Oh, hello. Good afternoon, Dick. Lovely place you have here. I'm Bob and this is my partner, Jim. Can we order some food please? We are starving. Anything will do.'
Dick gave a quizzical glance from one to the other, 'Ah, Bob and Jim, local
names. Good choice.' He smiled, 'I'm sorry, I think now there is only salad and some cheese, although my mother could make you an omelette if you'd prefer. OK?'
'An omelette would be perfect, thank you very much. Excuse me. Do you have something to drink? We are dying of thirst as well.'
'Right away!' He chuckled and shook his head as he disappeared into the kitchen, only to reappear in seconds with two glasses and bottles of ale.
'Wonderful! Thanks.'
Sipping his drink, Bob speculated that with the tavern being so out of the way, it was quite likely that visitors were rare to the village which might explain the fascination and staring of the locals when they first sat down and now the small group of children that were watching their every move. Then the food was delicious, of course, and afterwards they sat in silence, digesting the moment and feeling the strength return to their aching limbs. When they felt it was time to head back Bob asked Dick for the bill.
Dick looked puzzled, 'Bill? What bill?' He shrugged, 'There is no bill!' Then as the penny dropped, he spread his arms, 'Hah, I see what's happened! This is my home. Hey!
You were tired and hungry. No problem.'
Bob's mouth fell open, his jaw hit the ground and he almost fainted with embarrassment, 'Oh, dear! We are so very, very sorry. When we saw all these people sitting here we thought you were a tavern!'
'What? Me? A tavern? No, no, no my friends. Once every few months, my wandering son comes home and all the family gathers here to surprise him. Tonight is the night.'
His lady mother appeared, grinning from ear to ear savouring their embarrassment. Then her grin grew even wider, 'Don't worry. It is nothing. And please, come back tomorrow because in the evening we will have – sardines! Honestly!'
Once in the village on their way to The Hole, Thistle and Penn passed a house
where, through a large window at the front they could see a mural covering the opposite wall which was illuminated from time to time by the irregular recurring glow from fading and emerging illuminations backed with a gradual cadence of musical tones. They were stunned by the calming effect. As as they stood and watched, a man suddenly crossed the room in front of the window and Bob grabbed Jim by the arm as they both gasped.
'It's him! That's the hustler in the photo! Jim! We've got him!' Thistle marched Penn towards the tavern steering him inside to discuss their next move.
Inside, Kevin was chattering to one of the locals seated in front of him at the bar. Expressionless with glazed eyes, chin resting on open palms, mouth ajar, he seemed almost asleep. The door opened and up to the bar marched Thistle and Penn, expecting the usual friendly greeting but the barman was too busy talking to notice them. They waited and then Thistle leaned over and interrupted Kevin's life story by tapping him on the shoulder. Kevin was startled and recognised the men right away while the local half woke, lost his balance and slid like a leaf from his stool to the floor.
Kevin gave the men a wide smile, 'Hello again. Usual?'
Thistle spoke first, 'Hi. I don't think we've met, or was it you on the other night?'
Kevin, 'Very funny. Spot on. Like it. I suppose I should be wearing 'L' plates. I’m the new bar man, so stay cool and I won’t spit in your drink. OK? Ha!Ha! Ha!' Thistle ordered a couple of pints and asked for the donation jug.
Kevin, 'Coming up, right away.'
Thistle, 'Already, this feels like our local. Great isn't it?'
Penn, 'Hey, why don’t you show this new bloke the photo? He might have seen the grifter somewhere round here.'
Thistle, 'No point, old chum. New bar staff are always in a daze for their first week. Anyway, he saw it when we showed it to Barrington first time we came in and didn't seem to know the face.' They excused themselves and went outside to phone Vincenti.
'Yes, sir. We’ve unearthed the impostor and he is lodging in something called The Elysian Fields Guest House, we don't know yet who the owner is but will very soon. The guest house is not far from the village square tavern. One moment, please sir, this is a very bad signal. May I suggest I phone you later when I establish a better reception?'
'Don't worry about that. I'll be there tomorrow and meet you somewhere private, out of the way. Where do you suggest?'
'On the quayside, sir. Perhaps late afternoon?'
'Right,' Vincenti turned off his phone. To think he had concocted a perfected plan that was so simple it couldn't fail where all Fly had to do was change his name, hide in some bushes miles out of the way, maybe eventually grow a beard but he couldn't even do that. Pity he couldn't draw this much attention when he went solo. Now, their chance of making a fortune was in jeopardy. He had to meet with Fly, and convince him he take the plan with conviction. Vincenti decided to set off first thing next day and get to the island by evening.
Edlyn, Kevin and Fly Talk
At home in Elysian Fields, Edlyn and Fly sat sipping their cups of camomile tea while discussing the effect of Kevin's new job and how it might help Barrington adjust. Kevin had plenty of self-confidence and certainly was not shy while knowing when to give space and stand back. They agreed he had served the public many times before. This made them laugh and they were still laughing when Kevin came in, his first shift complete. He was frowning. 'Barrington is very grateful for your support. He sends his thanks,' then sat down, poured out some tea for himself and looked through the window to the stone circle.
'How is he coping?' Edlyn sensed Kevin was deeply distressed.
'Oh, you know him, he'll pull through.'
'And what about you, Kevin. Are you OK?'
'Well, I don't think I could have chosen a more uncool time to start a new job.'
Edlyn and Fly looked thoughtful as the room filled with silence until Kevin leaned towards Fly, 'Good to meet you at last, Fly.' They smiled and shook hands.
'So, is Fly your real name? I've never met anyone with that name before. What
brings you to our island?' Edlyn was a little surprised at Kevin being so polite.
'Oh, Fly is short for Flynn. My Dad's surname.'
'So what's your full name?'
'Sean Flynn. My Dad's Liverpool Irish. Sean's a family name.'
Edlyn gave a little laugh, 'So, you're a Celt. Proper job! That's it Kevin! Mr.
Flynn's going to be staying with us for a while.'
'I hope so. I was born here in the village but my dad and I moved up north when my mother died.'
'Wow! Sorry. That must have been quite a drag for a kid, losing your mother.'
Fly smiled, 'Yes, it certainly was.'
'Sorry about before. It was a bit awkward back in the pub.' He sipped his tea, 'So now you are here on holiday, Fly?'
'Er, not quite, no. Getting away from the city. My boss suggested I take a break, go somewhere quiet so I'm just having a look around, old memories and all that.'
'Oh yeah? Cool. For how long?' Kevin was trying to keep the conversation polite while being a little jarred by something Fly had just said because after the unsettling conversation between himself and Edlyn about property developers infiltrating their island, Kevin was a little on guard and carefully considering Fly's every word.
'Well, that depends. If I like it here, I might decide to stay.'
Immediately, Kevin frowned, 'Stay?'
'Yes. Perhaps relocate and settle down here. Maybe find a little cottage...not sure yet.'
Kevin sat upright, 'Trouble is most of the cottages are occupied by locals...you know, people who have been here since times long gone, people with connections to the island. Er, you know, descended.'
'Edlyn shot him a warning glance. She thought he was being a little rude, 'Kevin, if Fly was born here, he has every right to return and make his home here.'
'Of course. Sorry. I forgot you said you come from the village.'
'Across the square from the tavern. Norbury Cottage.'
'I think it's a Health Charity now,' said Kevin, straight-faced.
Fly was undeterred, 'Well, maybe I could find a little land and have a cottage built.' Edlyn laughed cheerfully but Kevin became anxious and looked uneasy. Fly smiled at the irony, 'Who would have thought it? Me, The Big Property Developer. Fab! Ha! Ha!'
Edlyn jumped in and joked, 'Property Developer? Estate Agents? You'd better keep your voice down. That's foul language round here.'
Kevin tried to sound casual, 'Er, anyway, why this little island? \nothing ever happens here. Wouldn't you prefer Ireland? They say it's very jiggy. Or Scotland?
Scotland's cool to be sure.'
'Scotland's far too cool for me, thanks. No. It's not because of The Garden's subtropical climate, its ancient lore or the fact that it overlooks the ocean. No. I want to live in a community where people matter. It's all I need.' Fly tried to explain, 'During my time up in Liverpool, my father and I would travel back and forth during school holidays and the difference from city life was like being on a different planet. I always loved the easy neighbourly atmosphere and felt I belonged here, so the moment I left the city I knew this would be the obvious place to stand back and take stock of life.' A stunned silence settled over the room.
Eventually Kevin came round a little, 'Well that sounds pretty fair to me.' He stood and topped up his cup at the side table, 'So Fly, we're going to be cellmates, which one are you in?'
'Mm...sorry? Oh, I was miles away. I'm in, er...Shangri-La.' The words of Vincenti came rattling through his brain, telling him to keep his head down and his mouth shut, and with all it entailed, he felt a little on edge. He tried to change the subject, 'Er Edlyn, I gave a lift to a chap on my way here and he introduced himself as Haydn Peel. Ever heard of him?'
'Oh, yes indeed. He's my uncle. Lovely man. Every year without fail he arrives with his backpack and conducts the Joining Ceremony at the Summer Equinox. It can be quite an occasion. Everyone likes him. Bit of a hippy I've heard said. On one occasion he even reintroduced the old tradition of the happy couple arriving for the ceremony on the back of a tractor and it became so popular again that it has been reintroduced. He lives in Bristol now although he used to live near here at Spindly Bush Farm. He gets that special feeling so many people experience at sunrise on the Spring Equinox, yet despite that he couldn't get here in time this year. Perhaps he left it too late. Anyway, mark my words, you can bet he won't miss the Midsummer Joining Ceremony.'
'Oh yes, The Joining Ceremony? I've heard of it but don't know much about it.'
Kevin was taken aback, 'You're joking. I would have thought that anyone who was local would know all about it. The Joining Ceremony's ancient, goes back years. “That formal declaration of love with the heartfelt intention of blending your life with that of your loved one.” Isn't that right, darling?' He placed his hand on Edlyn's knee.
'Oh, shut up, Kevin! Are you drunk?' and she pushed it away. Edlyn leaned forward, 'Fly's from this village too. He's been off travelling and came back yesterday.
But only in body.'
'And from now on I'm running the bar at the Hole in the Head, and to think that when I was a kid all I wanted to do was captain a fishing boat.' 'So did I,' said Fly.
'How life changes things,' laughed Kevin. 'I used to be like you Fly, so I got a job in a kitchen, living on leftovers. Trouble with that is, you tend to get into the habit of fine dining. Like living on leftover lobster, scallops, oysters or bits of succulent fillet steak.
Then when you leave, you go back to egg on toast, banana butties and the like.'
'You poor thing. Sounds like it was such an ordeal for you Kevin. Terrible,' said Edlyn, studying her fingernails.
'All was fine until I discovered the chef used to clean his fingernails by making pastry. And not just that! One of his favourite instructions was, 'Never slice meat so thick you can't see through it and if anyone ever complains just tell them you can't lift anything heavy because you have a bad back!'
'Fly, Is it true you used to be in a band? What was it called?' 'The Pikkins'.
'The Pikkins! Hey! I've heard of you. Liverpool Soul and Blues Band, right? You were really big, so why'd you leave?'
'I was writing most of our stuff and one day I just realised I'd drained the well.
That's why I took a break and came home.'
'Wow! So cool! I'm impressed!'
'Oh, don't be. Now I'm stuck. Before the band I did a bit of this, a bit of that. Not qualified to do anything really,' this was followed by another resounding silence. Then, 'Unlike you, I'm hopeless in the kitchen. Different strokes for different folks, I suppose, and I'm afraid technology left me at the toothbrush too.' Fly took the tray of dishes into the kitchen and began to wash up leaving Edlyn and Kevin chatting.
Edlyn was impressed with her guest and in a hushed voice she said, 'He seems a nice guy, doesn't he? Easy going. Do you think you two will get on?'
'Suppose so,' said Kevin, 'But everything's really vague with him and I'm just not so sure about all those simple explanations. I have to say, I'm a tiny bit disappointed,
Eddy. I was hoping it would just be you and me, like it was back in the old days.'
Edlyn was surprised, 'Kevin! Behave yourself. I'm sure Mr. Fly won't be here that long.'
'You say that, and yet I have to say I'm a little suspicious of your Mr. Fly.'
But in truth, he felt a little jealous of all the attention the handsome Mr. Fly was receiving from the lady he'd known for so long.
'Well, I like him. But what do you mean exactly?'
Kevin shrugged, 'Don't know, yet. Paint it any way you want and maybe I'm just being over-suspicious but it just seems a little weird that he should turn up right when there's all these rumours about hotel developers and estate agents floating round and then he blasts off with talk of buying some land. It all seems so, you know, like co-incidental and gives me the hee-bee jeebies. After that talk we had I'm a bit, well, more than a little suspicious that’s all. I just hope we’re not leaving ourselves wide open to being steamrolled into something we can't control, or even want.'
'This is not the first time The Garden's been under threat from developers and I don't suppose it will be the last.'
'What did you do before?'
'Usually, we befriend these people, get to know them, include them in celebrations, parties, take them sailing, generally make them feel at home. You'd be surprised how quickly they adopt our ways and relax then, mentally, they become locals.' 'Fingers crossed then.'
'Well, I’m a pretty good judge of character and I think Fly’s all right. Anyway, I’m going to be bold and ask him outright. It is my house after all and I’ll clear the air in a moment.'
However, before Edlyn could say another word, Fly reappeared and strode across the room and out through the front door calling over his shoulder, 'Just going for a little walk. It's great to be back. See you guys later.'
Taken by surprise, Edlyn called out, 'Oh, Fly, before you go...' But it was too late. He was gone, leaving Edlyn a little frustrated. She poked a finger at the door, 'I’ll corner him when he comes home and don’t worry, we'll all feel better once everything is out in the open and we know exactly what's going on. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about.'
'Edlyn, I'd better get going too. I promised Barrington I'd be quick. I'll just change out of these clothes.'
Edlyn Suspicious of Fly
Often, when working in her kitchen, Edlyn would glide about with great care and without too many exaggerated movements so as not to startle the queueing party of blue tits, blackbirds and sparrows she liked to watch through the window as they arrived and took their places waiting for their chance to dig into a meal from the feeders hanging outside. Robins and sparrows, even the little wrens, all joined the throng and took their turn pecking away and mingling without fighting or arguing. She was filled with admiration each time she saw those beautiful creatures dining in harmony while we humans cannot even agree to be different. Just then Kevin crashed in again but this time all aglow.
'Edlyn! Edlyn! Guess what?' And the birds scattered.
'You’ve got a job? Yes, I know. I was there.'
Kevin could not speak for his hysteria, 'OK...Oh, yes! Ha! Ha! But no! We're dead
quiet and Barrington's given me an hour off. I've just nipped home to tell you something. While I was behind the bar, these two guys came in and were showing everyone a picture of Fly and even asking Barrington if Fly had been in the tavern. I think they said they were snoops.'
'Ah-ha! What did Barrington say?'
'Nothing much. He was very wary, but I think maybe we should tell these guys where he is. It might be our sole chance to stop him from buying all the land and building a holiday village.'
'Oh Kevin, you're jumping the gun a bit, don't you think? But I’m not so sure. I’ve got a funny feeling about this. We don’t know anything for definite. We’re jumping to conclusions. We should wait and talk to Fly first. Get his side of the story.'
'Oh, he could tell us anything. I think we should tell these snoops he's here, just to be safe. If he’s not a sham then he’s cool and if he’s not what he seems then we’re safe anyway. We can’t lose if we tell them. What do you think?'
'Well, I don’t know. I suppose we have to do something. Listen, when you go back to work and if those two guys come back in just tell them that you know someone who might have some information for them and wants to talk to them in private here at Elysian Fields. In the meantime, I’ll wait for Fly and get what I can out of him.'
'Are you sure you should let him know they're on to him? I mean, for warns is for arms...or whatever the expression.'
'What are you saying, Kevin? Never mind. Go back to work and if you see Fly, be gentle. Don’t say anything. OK? Because if you are right and there are reasons to be wary of Fly, then I have to be certain. I am consumed with worry over the future of the village. I'm sitting here, happily putting some finishing touches to alterations on a pair of overalls for one of the ladies in the village, completely content, and then I glance through the doorway at the mural in the lounge and all I see is a place of tourism, businesses, restaurants, bars, nightclubs, yachts, speedboats and my heart sinks.' She looked so crushed, despondent, 'I can't help wondering what Fly's true intentions are. It feels like we could be under siege and so alone. Then I wonder whether you will stay in your new job or will you take off again, and what about Fly's boss up in London? Do city bosses usually suggest their staff take a break?' Kevin had never seen her look so worried and concerned. 'What if Fly and his boss in the city are plann