The Jack Hansard Series: Season Two

Episode 2.5

I dunno how Hansard was still standing. Maybe he'd managed to lob the stink at them from afar somehow, but he obviously missed one of them. The last man standing is being cautious, but he'll soon work out that Hansard won't dare open the bottle again at point blank range.

The shadows show me this man is a broad one, muscles like a blacksmith and face as ugly as an unlucky blacksmith. I reckons I could jump on the his back, bite his ear off or something. As I crawls to the edge under the car, my hand knocks into something smooth and round.

I stares in befuddlement for a moment, then realise they must have fallen out when the kiddies made their run for it. There's five or six within arm's reach.

Slowly, I smiles a big, wide grin.

I grabs the first crystal ball and huffs on it. 'Wakey wakey,' I says. 'I hears there's some nice chappies who'd like to talk wi' ye. They wants to hear all about yer life and accomplishments and such.' I gives the silent glass a tap. 'Come on now. I hear there's tea and biccies, too.'

'Biscuits?' says a faint voice from within.

'Yep. Them hob-nobbly ones wi' the chocolate on.'

'Did someone say hobnobs?' pipes up a second voice to my left.

'The finest,' I says gleefully, and I starts rolling out every one I can find. It spreads like a tremor as they each wake up, the voices getting louder and louder as they roll closer towards Hansard and the men. The man that ain't gagging has a joyously stupefied look on his face as the disembodied crowd pours out their demands.

'Where are the hobnobs?'

'Who woke me up?'

'I would love a cup of tea.'

'Someone fetch a nurse . . .'

'Is that my Billie, there?'

'CAN I HAVE A BISCUIT, PLEASE?'

The big man is swiping madly at the air around him. I can't help but cackle when I understands – he don't know where the voices are coming from, and he can't see the crystal balls in the dark! He thinks he's being attacked by tea and biscuit ghosts!

Hansard's already slipped away.

'Ey, gwas!' I pops out from hiding. 'Not bad, right?' Then I wrinkles my nose with disgust. 'You stink, gwas.'

'Hazards of the job,' he says agitatedly. 'Did you find the kids? We need to go!'

I points to where I left them, but in looking up I sees Sable's face peering at me from inside the car window. I nods to her. 'They's good. Let's go.'

We piles in and Hansard peels the car away with a squeal of frantic tires. No need, I thinks, watching the mess we've left behind us. Them dogs might've lost their noses forever, and them evil men will be thinking twice about setting after their quarry again, that's for sure!

Yellow streetlamps strobe across our laps until we hit the edge of town and rural country roads swallow us in the night.

Buck cuddles up to Sable in the back. She strokes his hair, the first real affection I seen from her. Her face is still hard though, like she ain't yet willing to believe they're out of trouble.

I holds the roadmap under my bluecap's light and give Hansard directions on where to go.

It's a few hours' drive, and dawn is peeking over the fields when we eventually pull up into a lay-by.

'We're here,' Hansard says, then checks his mirror and sees them both asleep.

We sits quiet like, until he breaks the silence. 'Bit on the nose this, isn't it?'