Pet Steeve excerpt: Chapter 62
Hmm, letās see here, what else has been going on? Oh yeah, thereās this: A small white van pulled up outside farmer Johnās house and out stepped a man round enough to roll around comfortably. How he managed to fit into the tiny van is beyond me. The little white van was still rocking from side to side when the man slammed the door. Mr Chubby, better known as Timothy Goodfellow, was a balding man who wore thick spectacles far too low down on his nose for them to be aiding his eyesight; unless, only seeing where his feet were headed was his only concern ā which was fair enough considering he couldnāt actually see them. He wore a white button-up shirt to conceal the workings of sweat, and gracing each of his shoulders was a suspender strap; the poor things stretched as far as they could, holding up his golferās trousers. His shoes were, well, I donāt actually know. His pink ā or salmon, if you will ā socks were visible, however. His thick cologne had a similar job to that of his shirt. He finished off the half a pasty he was throttling in his left hand in one giant bite and stuffed the wrapping down his trouser pocket. āTimothy! Good to see you, old chum!ā said John from his front door. āJohn, hello there, how are you?ā The words fought their way through steak bits and puff-pastry shrapnel. āVery well, thanks for coming on such short notice.ā āNo problem, what you got for me?ā The two shook hands and John gestured for his guest to go inside, then hung back for a few seconds. And when Timothy was properly inside, John looked around suspiciously as if he were paranoid of being watched. āTim, would you like anything to drink?ā asked John once he had caught up. āDo you have any Red Bull?ā āIām afraid I donāt, sorry.ā āThen, nothing. So what do you have for me, John? I have to get back to my other pasty ā¦ Uh, I mean other work, you know? Busy, busy.ā āWell, Iāve got a real good-looking one for you this time. Almost primed and ready. Come, Iāll show you.ā āOoh! Very exciting,ā gushed Timothy as he followed Farmer John out the back door and down the back garden all the way to the serene stream where a crumbling shed awaited them. āWe have her hidden down here,ā John mentioned as the two walked side by side, ābut we donāt have much time. Thereās a lunatic running around chasing its disappearance.ā āI donāt even want to know, John, you know our deal.ā āYes, yes, plausible deniability.ā āGood.ā When they arrived at the shed, John stepped forward and knocked three times; then another three times in quick succession; then once; then once again but a little louder; and finally, ten times really, really quickly. āWhy?ā asked Timothy, puzzled. āJust, why?ā āItās our secret code,ā offered John. Timothy looked around at the vast nothingness surrounding the shed. The only noise and, in fact, the only thing moving, was the stream trickling peacefully by, minding its own business, a few feet away. āIt seems a little cumbersome, donāt you think?ā he finally suggested. āBest be safe and not sorry, you know?ā āHow about saying, āPeter, itās me, your father, not an imposter, let me in.āā John thought about this for a few seconds but was distracted by the shedās door swinging open, so they walked inside. āSheās looking good, dad,ā announced Peeāah as the room suddenly shrunk. āThank you, son. Well, Tim, have a look, what do you think? Sheās a fine specimen, donāt you reckon?ā The chubby man leant over the baby calf and gave it a once-over with his eyes. He then asked Peeāah to help him out by shifting the animal around so that he could see it from various angles. When he was satisfied, he said, āYes, quite a marvellous creature, this one. Itās been well looked after. Good job, boy.ā The two men left Peeāah and the calf in the shed and spoke business just outside. After five minutes, Timothy announced that he had to get to āthat thingā he needed to get to, so they shook hands and promised to meet again in a few days. John was glowing as he thanked his old pal again for coming. He walked him to his van and watched, in juvenile amusement, as the circle shape squeezed through the square shape. āHey, dad?ā asked Peeāah once the man had left. āYes, son?ā āWhatās veal anyway?ā Musical sting: Dum, dum, duuuuuuum!