Second Class Males

Stop Press - The rumours about Norfolk were true!

I've just received a worrying report from a reliable contact. It seems she saw my last post, realised the significance of what she'd read in her local paper (the Dribbling Herald) and kindly got in touch. The paper tells the disturbing story of the hold up of the Dribbling-in-the-Marsh sub-Post Office two days ago. It should be noted that the Dribbling-in-the-Marsh sub-Post Office doubles as a village shop.

On Tuesday last, Miss Ethel Spatula (sub-Post Mistress) was subjected to a gruelling fifteen minutes during which she was tied to her chair and taunted mercilessly about the contents of her chilled fish counter. The gang of two were particularly insulting about the display of fresh crab. The criminals read their insults from pieces of paper that they carried about their persons, and on reaching the end of their script proceeded to frank Miss Spatula's forehead with her own date stamp. They stole half a dozen pieces of Haddock, one unidentified flat fish and a Pollock, and then made their getaway on foot.

Although the two thugs responsible for this outrage were subsequently captured (they had practised using the rubber date stamp on their own foreheads first, rendering them easy to identify), it now seems certain that another mystery figure was the brains behind the raid.

Ethel Spatula was able to confirm the identities of the robbers at an identity parade, and charges have been brought. Miss Spatula's insistence that there was a Gull perched on her Post Office bicycle during the entire awful experience was dismissed by the Police as being of no significance (and possibly a figment of an over-rought mind).

If there weren't already plenty of other clues as to Trenchfoote's current whereabouts, this confirms my worst fears. Those of you who have read The Testing of Archie Rathbone will already be aware of Trenchfoote's intense dislike of crabs!

I rest my case...

Trenchefoote's Escape

The Herring Gull - Larus argentatus... well it's not that I have anything against them as a species you understand... I suppose it's just one of those unfortunate associations. I mean, ok - they steal your sandwhiches when you're sat on the beach, but that's more our fault than theirs isn't it? If we didn't feed them then they wouldn't associate us with a free lunch!

No, Nigel Parsimonious Trenchfoote, or Trenchfoote as he is generally known, is very much a special case. Add to this the fact that he hasn't always been a Herring Gull, and that he has brought to the role all the deviousness, dishonesty and general foulness of character that he'd succeeded in perfecting in his earlier existence, and you begin to grasp what I mean.

But perhaps I should explain how we came to be in this sorry position - how Trenchfoote came to be among us. You see, I didn't mean for it to happen - there I was, writing away, minding my own business. Then, just when my attention was elsewhere - probably doing my utmost to try to rein in those other reprobates - Bolt, Upright & Clench (Tailors to the discerning since 1746) - the plot just decided that Trenchfoote was needed. Without so much as a 'by your leave', a Trenchfoote-shaped hole in the plot appeared, into which he deftly flapped.

Anyway, to start with I had no idea just how undesirable this character would turn out to be - I mean, he doesn't even begin to show his true colours in The Testing of Archie Rathbone - he isn't even a main character. Oh, sure he doesn't endear himself to anyone, and at the end of the book he tries to return to his old ways, but it's only since he escaped that the terrible truth has come to light!

So what do I mean by escaped? Well I wish I knew. All I know is that one minute he's safely trapped in the pages of my book, and the next he's flapping about, stealing pasties on the Norfolk coast and demanding money with menaces. You explain it if you can! I suspect it was some sort of computer virus, or else perhaps Bolt, Upright & Clench had something to do with it...

The point of all this is that now he's out, there's no knowing what he'll do next. Thankfully I don't think he's actually dangerous - I mean he's never been known to indulge in any sort of violence (he's too much of a coward for that) - but if you find yourself sitting there, admiring the view, perhaps soaking up a little sunshine while you nibble your picnic, and you become aware that there's a Gull keeping a watchful eye on your valuables, then don't say I didn't warn you!