Chapter Eleven
A Pin in the Dark

After their brief sojourn to enjoy their ale, Hapless, Mary Poppins and Ro’s journey to Hogsendell had been notable for repeated encounters with several creepy looking characters seen at various times. The first occurrence was when they’d only just left Rhiwabon. They had taken a rather circuitous route in order to pass The Green Perch, and it was while they were paying a necessary visit to a group of old and twisted oaks that they noticed a ‘bloke in a cloak’ walking, or shuffling towards the point where they had entered the tiny copse. After shaking off the drips, they exited the trees on the side away from him. “It may be nothing”, said Hapless, “but I would rather not be seen by an old pervert. Do you think he could have been one of those chaps at the house?”
Ro shrugged, “Dunno!” he said. “They were dressed like that”.

They marched on through leafy lanes and soon became enamoured of the tranquil atmosphere that interspersed the periods of thundering traffic. After a while, they left the road to follow the more peaceful, less trodden paths that led in a general south-east direction. Their spirits were positively yeasty, and Ro began an old walking song:

“We’re on our way on a sunny day
The boys are up and walking.
We venture far o’er hills and dales
And never tire for we are males.
We carry on through storms and gales
With not a moment’s baulking.

“Upon a hill we march on still
When cold and not as sunny.
The fog grows thick with wisps and curls
But we care not ‘cause we aren’t girls
We can take what nature hurls.
It won’t make our bowels runny.

“We chance upon a lonely swan
Dispatch it with a dagger.
It light upon our bellies sits
And talk returns to wenches tits
And what doth fit into her bits
And who is first to shag her.

“For to start, a winsome tart
And one who knows what glitter is.
She likes to walk or row or punt
And gamely ....”

..... sang Ro as he went into the third verse lustily, but Hapless interrupted him.
“Maybe the old songs are not so appropriate in these more Pee See days. Let’s sing a different one!”, he said.
“Spose so”, replied Ro, “It’s only a song”.
“Maybe it is”, said Hapless, but it seems a little out of place. Even (dare I say it?) anachronistic. How does that one go about ‘a knapsack on my back’?”
Ro thought for a moment, then sang, “Da de dar dar dar de daaaar”.
“Yes, but what are the words”, asked Hapless. Do you know them Poppins?”
Mary Poppins, however, was staring into space in a glazed expression, with her hand down the front of her knickers.

They walked on again in silence, but before long began talking about the ‘bloke in the cloak’, and whether he might have been one of Rowling’s henchmen.
“Whoever it was, we seem to have lost him”, said Ro.
A few houses appeared along the road, and a 1960s estate lay beyond. A busy road joined theirs.
“Let’s go down here”, said Hapless, indicating a side street to the left, “Meadow Lane”.
“OK, but we’ll have to get back to the main route at some point or we’ll be lost”, replied Ro.
Soon, they found a right turn: ‘Oak Avenue’.
“Can’t see any oaks”, remarked Ro.
“Didn’t spot a meadow in Meadow Lane either”, replied Hapless. “There was probably one here before they built a road and houses on it”.
I wonder if the bulldozer driver chooses the road name?”, mused Ro, “after all, he was probably the last person to see any oaks in Oak Avenue”.
“Good point.”, replied Hapless.
At the end of Beech Grove (beechless), with which Oak Avenue had joined, there was a T-junction. They turned right into Rosemead Avenue.
“No rosemeads!”, pointed out Hapless.
“What’s a rosemead anyway?”, asked Ro?
“Well, I suppose it’s a mead with rose bushes in it.
“Just checking!”, said Ro in reply. None of them around here. Not since the road eradicated them! Wiped them off the face of the planet. Gone!”
“There’s a rose”, said Hapless, “a bit scabby though”.
“Bushes and trees are for playing games”, said Mary, with an impish smile. She clicked her fingers, and the rose was gone. “Bitch!”, said Ro. “That’s what we’re talking about!”
“Mind your tongue!”, replied Poppins.
“People like you bugger the environment”, said Hapless, sharply.
“Do we detect bitterness?” asked Mary Poppins.
“Certainly not. Ok a bit”, replied Ro, “but you might detect irony somewhere if you look closely”.
“We need to find another left turn soon, but it might cross the other road, so we could always join that again”, broke in Hapless. “Though we could take a left then a right, as long as we remember not to go too far before turning left again”, he added.

They reached a small roundabout with five roads leading off it. None of them seemed major, and three of them went in the general direction they wished to go.
“Typical! No signposts”, said Ro.
“Let’s take this one”, said Hapless.
“What’s it called?”, asked Ro.
“Linden Tree Lane”, read Hapless.
Ro opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.
“No, none as far as I can see”, said Poppins. “Not a single tree except that rather unpleasant-looking lilac tree in that garden. She went over to it and sang, whereupon tinsel appeared on every branch.
“Useful, isn’t she?”, commented Ro.

They were leaving the suburban area and entering a more built-up zone. A road appeared on the left: Tarmac View. They took it, and by taking a series of side roads, they managed to go parallel to the main road without crossing it. Progress, however, was slow. Eventually, at the further end of Multi-Story Car Park Avenue, they turned right into Dual-Carriageway Terrace, and found themselves in a dead end. They turned back and, cutting through Row Of Old Garages Street, found themselves back on the main road.
“Phew!”, said Hapless, “I was getting sick of winding in and out of side streets”.
“These did have a certain honesty though, don’t you agree?”, said Ro.
“Indubitably!”, agreed Hapless.

A little later, after having gone outside for a stroll at the behest of a bit of trapped wind (well, at the behest of Hapless and Ro to be truthful, but wind was a factor), Mary Poppins returned to her beckoning beer and the others in The Buttered Bream, to tell them she’d seen another cloaked man, or the same chap again, whilst outside. They drank up and left soon afterwards to continue their journey more warily.

It wasn’t very long before they again spotted the ‘Monks of the Order of the Pervs’ as Ro came to call them, who seemed as if they might be following them. After some more encounters of the same sort, however, they thought they’d lost them at the bus station. On the bus to Welshpool, they almost forgot about them completely, until an old minibus with at least five of the monks inside, overtook the bus. The occupants were looking intently and creepily into the bus, and the companions hid below the window to avoid being seen. When the bus stopped to pick up passengers, Hapless, Mary Poppins and Ro sneaked off and retreated to The Troll’s Head for a refresher, eventually booking themselves into a ropey-looking inn called The Wind Cheater, the last, rather isolated building in a lonely road of run-down and empty houses. Later, as the friends returned from a local chip shop, they were astonished and somewhat perturbed to see a group of the ‘monks’ at the other end of the street. Slipping directly into the inn in what they hoped was an unobtrusive manner, they headed for the bar for a calming beverage.

“Strewth, there must be a convention. It looks like an episode of Dr Who”, said Ro, as he came back with the beer and pork scratchings. They sat, with their beer, in comfortable chairs in a darkened corner near the open fire, and talked in hushed tones about their adventure, eyes occasionally flicking towards the area of the door. Suddenly a cloaked figure, then a second, entered the room and melted into the shadows. Three more figures followed soon afterwards. Hapless was transfixed. Mary Poppins disappeared. Ro attempted to hide in the upholstery of his armchair, hoping that the dim light would protect them. Hapless looked about him. Too late: without warning, three of the figures, then another, and finally all five advanced towards them. Hapless felt his heart thumping. He could feel Ro fidgetting uncomfortably near him. One of the figures, the tallest, and apparently the leader, advanced towards them. In his hand something flickered. Hapless clutched at his shoulder in panic.

“What is it?” asked Ro, concerned.
“Ow!, I’ve got a sort of stabbing pain”, replied Hapless. As he looked closer, Ro was astonished to see a large hornet screwing it’s arse through Hapless’s jacket, with a determined and intense expression on its face as if to suggest it was having the mother of all dumps. Hapless howled in pain as the poison entered his body.

“I say”, said the tall cloaked figure, apparently unaware of Hapless’s anguish, “We are monks from the Order of the Per …..”. There was a sliding noise and thud as Ro’s limp jaw hit the floor. “… fect Voice, sang the figure, “and we are collecting donations for our orphan’s fund. Would you care to give some money for the children’s annual trip to Alton Towers? In a daze of pain and confusion, Hapless felt in his pocket and found there a hard, round, golden thing. Slowly, reluctantly, as if some alien will was resisting his effort, or that he was being forced, despite his will, to comply (he couldn’t decide, didn’t have the time to decide right at that moment, and quite probably did not have the inclination either. I’m not sure why the issue came up at all!), he pulled out the coin and dropped it into the box. At the same moment he knew what his unconscious mind had been telling him: that simple act had left him with a quid short for another pint. With a graceful smile, the monk pinned a paper badge to the hornet on Hapless’s shoulder. A log fell out of the fire and onto the grate, and the monk was gone. Ro, recovering from his shock, looked at him.
“They are different monks, aren’t they?” he said rhetorically.
“Yup”, said Hapless.
Mary Poppins returned from behind the curtains and asked, What are you two staring at? Chop chop!”