CHAPTER ELEVEN - The Big Dark Cloud

Six days later … Saturday 4th March …

6:00 am

At six o'clock in the morning, in a small garret room, a bedside alarm began to ring. Roger silenced the alarm and rose from his bed. He stretched and yawned, then shuffled across the small room to the window. He drew back the curtains and looked outside. Dawn was breaking and the low sun cast long shadows across the grounds of the amusement park below. He looked out to sea and at the large ships passing by on the horizon. The English Channel was calm this morning and it seemed like everything was set fair for a very nice Spring day.
Roger dropped his gaze to the promenade just beyond the iron railings that surrounded the sprawling leisure complex. There were already signs of activity out there, and he nodded his head in recognition of what was in store for him today. Crowds were already massing outside the main gates in readiness for the premises to open. The day of the grand opening of the Dungeon Exhibition had finally arrived.
The media were much in evidence. Television cameras were stationed all along the sea front, and pictures were going out live on the breakfast programs. Reporters and photographers for the press were also outside the gates, and all adding to what was rapidly becoming a carnival atmosphere. There were also people selling balloons, and food and ice cream vendors were setting up their stalls in readiness for the day.
Roger, who had opted to spend the night at the amusement park, could foresee a busy day ahead of him. There were over thirty new staff to be let in to start with, and all had to be assigned to their posts. They were due to arrive at seven o'clock. Not long after that there was to be an inspection. All staff had been issued with uniforms, and Mr. McTavish wanted everyone looking smart on their first day at work. The official grand opening was scheduled for ten o'clock. Both Roger and Mr. McTavish were keeping their fingers crossed. Hopefully everything was in its place, and there would be no last minute cock-ups.
Roger returned to his bedside cabinet. A small heart-shaped gold box rested on the surface. He picked it up and opened up the lid. He knew of the contents, but just wanted to take one more peek before getting ready for work. He closed up the box and a broad grin crossed his face. Inside was the engagement ring he planned to place on Mimi's finger sometime later that day.
Mimi was coming down from London and would be waiting at Carrowbank Farm for him once work was over. Roger had purchased the expensive diamond ring during the week from a jewellers in Littlesea, and now he was looking forward to becoming officially engaged to the most wonderful girl in the world.
Furthermore there were already wedding plans afoot. This was going to be a very short engagement; just four weeks at the most. So a visit to the little church where Marion got married in the village of Carrowton was on the cards for the Sunday. It was Mimi's idea to get married there and not in London where she lived. She reckoned it was such a lovely church, and with Roger now almost a permanent resident at Carrowbank Farm, then it would be the ideal place to get married, and at the same time make a perfect day out for everyone.
Roger heard signs of movement in the adjoining bedroom. Mr. McTavish was up and about. With a sigh he put all thoughts of Mimi and weddings to one side.
Today was going to be a very busy day at the amusement park.

7:00 am

Someone with another early start to the day was farmer Godfrey Brookes. As dawn broke that morning he was halfway home on his journey back from Scotland.
Godfrey had attended the funeral of Uncle Jimmy on the Thursday and set off back to Carrowbank Farm the following day. Dundee to Carrowton was a journey of something like eight-hundred miles. A distance far too great for one driver to do in any one day. He had taken two days to drive up there, and similarly he planned to do the return journey in two stages by taking an overnight rest.
As Godfrey awoke that morning he found himself in a motel somewhere in Yorkshire. The exact whereabouts he did not know, and for the record did not particularly care. The motorway system was just down the road and all he really needed to know was the direction south. Breakfasts began at seven o'clock and he planned to be first down. His hope was to be on the road again by seven thirty. If all went well, and there were not too many hold ups, he reckoned to be back at Carrowbank Farm sometime between four and five o'clock.
As Godfrey set off from the motel and headed for the nearby motorway, he was in a sombre mood. Uncle Jimmy's funeral had been a sad affair, as funerals always were. This had set the mood, and since then he had not been able to shake off this terrible morose feeling that had fallen over him. It was like a dark thunder cloud hanging above his head, and lighting was about to strike at anytime. To make matters worse, he had forgotten to take any of his pills. In all the rush to get away he had left his tablets behind in the cabinet above the bathroom sink.
To compound the problem a relative had offered Godfrey a couple of his own tablets, which he swore were the same, since he too had been suffering from depression lately and the doctor had prescribed something to help cheer him up. Like a fool Godfrey had taken the tablets, and they only seemed to make matters worse. Almost immediately that big dark cloud arrived, and since then it had followed him everywhere he went.
As Godfrey joined the motorway system he began to think of his oil-seed rape harvest. If anything, it had been in the ground too long. It should have been harvested two to three days ago, but obviously that was impossible with Uncle Jimmy's funeral taking place at the same time. Therefore his first task on his return home would be to check on the north meadow. He just hoped and prayed that the harvest was not lost. In that one field lay all his hopes and aspirations for the future.

9:00 am

Mimi rose from her own bed sometime around nine o'clock. She yawned and stretched and headed for the shower. Her schedule for the day was nowhere near as hectic as Roger's, or as laborious as Godfrey's. In fact she had time to kill and wondered what she was going to do with herself for most of the morning.
Mimi had spoken to Roger on the phone the night before. (Something she had done every night since the day she met him!). She was aware of Roger's commitments on such an important day, and was not expecting to see him until after five o'clock at the earliest. So the plan was for her to travel down in the afternoon and go directly to Carrowbank Farm. She would then wait there until he arrived. She also planned to do a bit of cooking and have a super meal ready for Roger when he finally arrived home exhausted.
Mimi however did have one important thing to do before setting off from London. Earlier in the week Lenny had promised to develop all of Roger's films and have one complete copy of the photographs ready for collection on the Saturday morning. He was also going to do an extra set of his own photo-shoot with Chloe in the barn at Carrowbank Farm and include these in the package. He thought that Roger might like to see the results of his own efforts on what turned out to be a great day's shooting.
Whilst in the shower Mimi made plans for the day. She would get dressed, have breakfast, then spend a little time tidying up her small flat. At sometime around eleven o'clock she would then set off across London to FotoPix Studios to collect the photographs. If she left there at twelve o'clock and then headed straight for the south coast, with the extra traffic about on Saturdays she reckoned that she should reach Carrowbank Farm at sometime around four o'clock. That would give her plenty of time in which to prepare a meal for Roger after a long day's work at the amusement park.
Mimi stepped out of the shower and began to dry herself down. There was no rush to anything. Today was going to be a day when she could take things easy for a change.

9:55 am

If Mimi was thinking of taking things easy, someone fresh back to work after an extended two months break was beginning to experience a very hectic morning indeed.
Along the sea front and promenade, WPC Georgina Watkinson was trying hard to control the crowds and also keep the traffic moving. Most of it with little success. There were just far too many people for such a small coastal town. Cars were parked everywhere, most of them illegally, with two wheels up on the pavement, and this extended all along the sea front. The queue in places was some three to four bodies deep and spilling out onto the road. It also stretched way back beyond the grounds to the amusement park and was probably two miles in length.
WPC Georgina Watkinson, standing a short distance along the promenade from the main gates, mopped her brow. There were cars trying to get down the road that had nothing to do with the opening of the exhibition. All they wanted to do was get out of Littlesea and follow the coastal road west. One car attempted to park in a small gap, and she moved in quickly to stop it. There were two females in the car and she told the driver to move on.
At ten o'clock the gates opened and a cry went up from the front of the queue. The cheer then moved on down the row in a domino effect until it disappeared out of earshot.
Georgina followed the noise and looked down the road towards the rear of the queue. The car that had just recently tried to park, dumped a whole pile of news-sheets out of a window and into the middle of the road. One leaflet was picked up and a paper aeroplane made out of it, but the rest of the crowd just ignored what had been dumped. Georgina tried to reach the occupants of the car to remonstrate with them, but the car moved away and the crowd spilled out onto the road between them.
Georgina felt helpless, but there was nothing she could do about the situation. She simply shrugged her shoulders and returned to concentrate on her allotted task. The Town Council refuse collectors would be around at the end of the day to clear everything up, so what did it matter anyway? What was more important was keeping the crowd good humoured and the traffic flowing.
Eventually the queue next to where she was stationed started to move and another cheer went up.
Georgina mopped her brow once more and smiled to herself.
Hectic or not, it was wonderful to be back at work.

10:00 am

For a couple of would-be protesters there was a sense of excitement in the air. The secretary of 'Cropwatch', Laura Bennett, along with the London delegate, Gayle Jackson, had set out early that morning for the south coast of England. They were both in Laura Bennett's car and she was doing the driving. Their ultimate destination was an isolated farmhouse in the Carrow Valley. Today was scheduled as a day of action, and they were expecting to meet up with at least another hundred or more protesters when they finally reached their destination.
As ten o'clock arrived they found themselves in a traffic jam in the centre of Littlesea. They had spent probably the last half hour travelling no more than a mile in distance. But at least now they were on the sea front and heading out of the town along the coastal road that would eventually lead them to Carrowton. After that a field of experimental genetically modified crops lay just a mile or so further on down the road from the village. This was their ultimate destination and target for the day.
Laura Bennett wanted to park up somewhere so that they could distribute the March issue of 'The Cropwatch Journal' to the crowds, but everywhere they looked there were cars. There were literally hundreds of them parked up on the pavements and grass verges of the town. For a moment she thought that she had found a spot to park on the pavement alongside the sea front. But from nowhere a policewoman suddenly descend on the car and rapidly moved them on.
"We're not going to be able to park anywhere," Laura Bennett informed Gayle Jackson as she moved a few more yards down the road.
"What about the news-sheets then Laura?" asked Gayle.
She was sat in the passenger seat alongside Laura with a great pile of the organisation's monthly journals stacked on her lap.
"Just dump a few out of the car as we drive along," suggested Laura. "The crowds are sure to pick them up and have a look."
Gayle nodded her head. It seemed like the best idea given the situation they found themselves in.
"I guess it won't do any harm," she said.
And with that she wound down the window and selected a handful of news-sheets from off the top of the pile. As the car inched forward once more she dumped everything she had gathered up out into the road. She saw one person immediately pick up a journal. At least she was satisfied. She felt certain that the rest would be picked up and read pretty quickly.
About a hundred yards further on along the road she tossed out another handful. The crowds were thinning out by now and the traffic picking up speed. It was still at a crawl, but at least they were not stopping and starting anymore. Laura sighed with relief. They had passed the worst of the hold up and were finally heading out of town. At one point she had thought that they were going to be stuck in Littlesea for ever.
As they left the crowd and the chaos behind them, Gayle Jackson wound up the window.
"Well I've still got a lot of journals left," she told Laura. "I reckon we'd better dump a few more out in the villages along the way, and then some more at the farm afterwards."
"A good idea Gayle," said Laura. "And maybe if we come back this way, we can deposit some more later. Perhaps by then the crowd will have thinned out a bit."
By now the car was out on the open road and heading west. There was a turning left signposted to Castle Point, but the car kept straight on.
"Not far now Laura," said Gayle from the passenger seat. "Only about another six miles or so."
Gayle Jackson had been in the area once before on a reconnaissance run and knew the way, but for Laura Bennett this was all fresh territory. She had never visited this part of England before.
Laura looked to the time on the dashboard clock. If Gayle was correct and there were only about another six miles to go, then they should be there for about half past ten. That was good. As the Organisation's secretary she needed to be one of the first on the scene. There was not only the March issue of the news-sheets to distribute, but in the boot of her car there was a box full of handcuffs to dish out too.
Laura hoped that today would turn out to be a very good day, and that they would get lots of publicity from their actions. She had sent a letter to the local press during the week informing them of their intended presence. Normally that did the trick and would insure police presence too.
It was the publicity the Organisation needed to thrive on. Without publicity they would be wasting their time. Hopefully someone would be there to report what was going on, and the farmer himself was bound to call the police if they were not already there in force. The only thing that worried her was all the activity going on back in Littlesea. Perhaps they should have picked a different day that did not clash with the grand opening of Dungeon Exhibition everyone was talking about?
Laura Bennett crossed her fingers and hoped. She was unsure whether this was going to be a good or bad day. Somehow she felt uneasy about the whole thing.
Perhaps they should have picked another weekend!

10:30 am

Sylvia Sparelli was waiting a little further down the road from Carrowbank Farm when the car driven by Laura Bennett appeared. There were already about half a dozen cars parked up on the grass verges of this quiet country lane. Sylvia had deliberately come alone and in her own car so that she could meet up afterwards with an old school friend, Davina Townsend; otherwise she would have come down with Laura and Gayle.
"Good morning girls," greeted Sylvia as the two young women stepped out of the car.
"Good morning Sylvia," greeted Gayle.
"Morning Sylvia,… glad you could make it," added Laura.
Laura looked around and counted the number of people already there. Including herself there were exactly twenty folks present so far. This was good she was thinking. The protest was not due to take place until twelve o'clock. This late start had been set deliberately in order to enable enough time for everyone to get here. She was expecting a crowd of something like one hundred people to turn up eventually.
"Where's the crop then Gayle?" Sylvia asked once all three were gathered together.
Gayle, who had done the original investigation into the site, pointed up and over an old railway embankment that was running parallel to the road.
"It's just over the other side of this embankment. Why don't we climb up and take a look?" she told the Organisation's chairperson.
Sylvia looked to what was involved. The bank was steep and overgrown with young trees, and a small low decaying wooden fence divided the old railway line from the road. But she saw no problem. As always she had come dressed for the occasion, and wore jeans and stout boots on her feet.
"Okay, let's go," said Sylvia.
 With a nimble bounce she leapt the low fence and began the scramble up the steep side of the embankment. Laura and Gayle followed on close behind. At the top, the three women stood together and looked out across the Carrow Valley, and to the rolling hills beyond. In the foreground a field of bright yellow flowers swayed gently in the breeze. They did not know it, but the crop had been ready for harvesting for several days now. It was only the fact that the farmer had commitments in Scotland that the crop had remained in the ground.
Gayle spread out her arms to encompass the scene spread out before them. "Ten acres of genetically modified oil-seed rape, and all waiting to be uprooted," she announced to her fellow colleagues at Cropwatch.
Sylvia nodded her head thoughtfully.
"Well it's all got to go… every bit of it… The world will only be a safer place to live once all these Frankenstein crops are wiped from the face of the Earth," she said with a touch of venom to her voice.
Laura and Gayle agreed wholeheartedly. It was only organisations like theirs that would save the world from its own destruction.
Sylvia turned to Laura and asked: "Have you informed the local press Laura?"
Laura nodded her head in confirmation. "Yes, I have done… I just hope someone turns up though… I'm a bit worried about what's going on in Littlesea… we may have chosen the wrong day for the protest," she said.
"Yeh, what's going on there Laura?" asked Sylvia. "There was quite a hold-up and we were detoured out of the town centre by the police."
Sylvia was probably the only person in the country that did not know what was going on.
"Today is the grand opening of Madame Troudeau's Dungeon Exhibition," Laura explained, "and all the media interest is concentrated in Littlesea at the moment. I don't think we'll get much of a local write-up whatever happens."
Sylvia shook her head from side to side and tutted. She did remember now. It had been in all the newspapers.
"We should have checked first if anything was happening in the area," she said with hindsight.
Laura nodded her head in agreement.
"Anyway Sylvia, if no-one from the local press turns up, it shouldn't prevent us from destroying the crop… we can still go ahead with our plans… there'll be enough protesters here to uproot everything… and of course we'll be doing our little bit to stop the world from poisoning themselves," she said with a touch of sadness to her voice.
Sylvia nodded her head in agreement, as did Gayle who had been listening to everything that was said. Already a mood of resignation had set in amongst the three girls stood on top of the embankment.
"We'll wait till twelve o'clock and see who turns up then," pronounced Sylvia, "and after that we set to work regardless."
Laura could only agree.
"We can but wait and hope," she added with a sigh.

12:00 noon

The top executives of Cropwatch were all a little disappointed with the turnout. As the midday deadline arrived the final headcount numbered just fifty-one. That was about half the number expected and well down on any of their previous protests. The reason given by those that had managed to turn up being; either, most of their friends had preferred to attend the grand opening of Madame Troudeau's dungeon exhibition; or, the missing faces had probably got held up in the traffic congestion someplace around the Littlesea area.
The second disappointment was the absence of anyone from the local press. Laura had prayed that someone from the 'South Coast Telegraph' would turn up, but that was not to be. Today was turning out to be quite a disaster.
They gave it another ten minutes before calling everyone together. From halfway up the embankment Sylvia addressed the gathering. This was the stuff leaders were made of. It was time to rally the troops.
Sylvia held her arms in the air. "Fellow members of Cropwatch," she began, "we are gathered here today with only one purpose in mind…. we are here to destroy… On the other side of this embankment lies a field of genetically modified oil-seed rape… nobody wants it… the public don't want it… no-one wants to sell it… and no-one wants to buy it… So why is it here?…It is here because the Government and the poisoning chemical companies are blind to the voice of the people… Fellow members… join us now in our protest… let us enter the field and uproot this fiendish Frankenstein crop."
Stirred by the rallying call, a great cheer went up from the gathering below. Sylvia smiled and took a bow. It had been one of her better rallying calls, delivered with great passion and feeling.
The time had come for action. With a great sense of pride, Sylvia turned and scrambled up the embankment to the top. Laura followed close behind. At the top were two boxes, one containing copies of the March issue of 'The Cropwatch Journal', the other holding one-hundred and twenty handcuffs. As the members passed by, Laura handed out a pair of handcuffs and a copy of the news-sheet to each protester.
Over on the other side, Sylvia marshalled her troops once more. She got everyone into a line, then ordered them to move forward through the crop. Some had come prepared and carried scythes and machetes with them, whilst others were simply reliant on brute force. As the row moved forward, some uprooting and others scything down, the vast sea of yellow swaying flowers began to disappear and become trampled on underfoot.
The line of fifty-one fanatical protesters finally reached the river bank and a second cheer went up. About one quarter of the crop had been destroyed. Sylvia lined everybody up again and they headed back across the meadow. On reaching the other side, half of the field had had been mown down and flattened.
Two more passes later and nothing remained. The entire crop was down, flattened and squashed. As the last plant got symbolically uprooted by Sylvia the biggest cheer of the day went up.
Sylvia gathered everyone around her.
"Fellow protesters," she started once again, "can I thank you all for being here today… Consider yourselves saviours of the environment and saviours of our planet… without people like you to defend the planet, then the world would be already dead… today, my fellow protesters you did some sterling work… and I want to thank you all for attending."
The gathering clapped and cheered. Sylvia Sparelli was a fine upstanding citizen that really cared for the environment and mankind.
Ten minutes later, on the other side of the embankment, the small band of protesters began to disperse and go their separate ways. Some to Littlesea and the exhibition, others back to whatever part of the country they had ventured from.
Sylvia, along with Laura and Gayle hung back until the end, thanking each car load of people personally before they drove away.
When all had gone and only the three top executives remained, they got together for a final chat.
"Well that's it girls… another crop gone," said Sylvia. "It's just a pity no-one was here to record what was done."
Laura shrugged her shoulders. It was unfortunate, but with hindsight inevitable.
"The next time we must check the calendar to see if anything else is happening locally, otherwise we're not going to get much publicity," replied Laura.
"Never mind, at least the crop's been destroyed… If we keep doing what we did today then eventually someone is bound to sit up and notice," said Sylvia.
Laura nodded her head in agreement. All they could do was keep whittling away until someone noticed.
The three girls hugged and kissed. The time had come to go their separate ways. Laura dumped the boxes containing the remaining handcuffs and the March issue of their journal into the boot of her car. She gave one last look around. Every post along the side of the narrow country lane had the front page of the latest news-sheet nailed to it. It proudly displayed a group photograph of all seven female members of the executive committee. She smiled and nodded her head. It was a good photograph and showed the commitment the ladies had to winning the battle against genetically modified crops.
"Right girls, I'm away," said Sylvia. "I'm off to see an old school friend who lives near here. I guess I'll see you two at the next meeting."
Both Laura and Gayle smiled and waved as Sylvia moved away to step into her car.
As the car moved off, Laura turned to Gayle and said: "Well?.. What shall we do now?… Shall we go back to Littlesea and distribute a few more news-sheets, or shall we go home?"
"Let's just go home Laura," said Gayle. "I don't think we'll achieve anything by staying down here any longer… The whole place is dead, and I doubt if anyone will ever notice what we've done anyway."
Laura nodded her head in agreement. She had got up very early that morning and was beginning to feel tired herself.
"Yeh! Let's go home Gayle," she said with a yawn. "I doubt whether the farmer will even notice what we've done."

 4:00 pm

Roger and Mr. McTavish made their way to the private kitchen on the top floor of the main building. They both reckoned it was time for a well earned cup of coffee and a bite to eat. Neither person had taken a break since the long day began. Up on the fourth floor they were out of the way of the milling crowds. As far as the two senior executives were concerned, they had done everything they possibly could. It was now up to the thirty members of staff to keep everyone happy until closing time which was scheduled for seven o'clock that evening.
Roger made two cups of coffee, placed them on the table and then sat down to face Mr. McTavish. He rubbed his tired eyes and yawned. It had been a long hard day and he was feeling shattered.
Mr. McTavish saw the yawn and tried hard to stifle one of his own. He too was feeling a little weary.
"Och Roger, yee may as well goo home," said Mr. McTavish. "Goo and see that bonnie lassie of yours."
Roger sipped his coffee and then nodded his head.
"I think I will… it's been an awfully long day," agreed Roger.
"Och, yee do that Roger… Yee'll need ta goo the back way out Roger," said Mr. McTavish. "The road at the front is still blocked… Yee're best bet is ta tek the road ta Canterford… then carry on ta Carrowton that wah… It'll avoid all the traffic."
Roger nodded his head once more.
"I'll guess I'll just finish my coffee and disappear then… And thanks Mr. McTavish… I'll get back and surprise Mimi, she's not expecting me until way after five o'clock," he told the Scotsman.
 "Och, it's only what yee deserve Roger," answered Mr. McTavish.
Roger had been smartly dressed all day. If the rest of the staff were meant to look respectable, then so had he. That morning he had put on the same suit he had worn on the day of Marion's wedding. As he sat there finishing off his coffee his mind pondered over the route back suggested by Mr. McTavish. The Scotsman was right, Canterford would probably be the quickest way back to Carrowbank Farm.
The mention of Canterford also rang a bell somewhere near the back of Roger's mind. He delved a hand inside his top pocket and withdrew the business card given to him by John Townsend whilst sat on the bench out by the old castle ruins. Part of the address read; 'Carrowton Road', so there was a fair chance that he would be driving right past the door. He put the card away in his top pocket. Carrowbank Farm certainly needed a burglar alarm system fitting. With Godfrey away the place had been deserted for most of the week, so anything could have happened. So perhaps this was his chance to do something about it.
Deep in thought Roger's hand dropped to a side pocket of his jacket. There was a small object inside and he patted the bulge with loving care. Inside this pocket was a little box containing a diamond engagement ring.
Roger pondered over what to do. Should he stop for a few minutes in Canterford, or should he go straight back to his Mimi?
 He was not sure what to do for the best.

4:05 pm

Godfrey Brookes changed down a gear to scale the final hill. The bluebell woods were behind him, and after two more bends in the road he would be passing through the narrow gap in the hills cut by the River Carrow. Soon he would be home, but that was about the only thing he had to be cheerful about. His mood was still sullen and that dark threatening cloud still hung heavily above his head.
The pick-up truck reached the top of the rise and began to descend into the fertile valley below. Away in the distance the land ended abruptly with a thin blue line of sea sweeping across the horizon. As the cutting widened and the road began to wind and drop steeply to the valley floor below, Carrowbank Farm, away in the distance, came into view. From this vantage point there were extensive views of all of Godfrey's land.
The farmer looked down, and immediately he could tell that something was amiss. Directly below him, nestling against the foot of the hill, he was expecting to see a field of bright yellow; but the sight that befell him was nothing like this. There was yellow present, but it was in patches, and all intermingled with great areas of browns and greens. It was obvious that something had gone terribly wrong with his crop of oil-seed rape.
As Godfrey reached the bottom of the hill the north meadow became lost from view, hidden by the steep embankment of the old railway line. He pulled up on the grass verge and got out. He looked around. There were posters nailed to every post along this stretch of the road. He walked up to one and tore the poster away. He read the banner and stared glaringly at the photograph on the front page. Suddenly a rage quelled up inside of him and he crumpled the news-sheet up in his hands.
"Oh no!… Please no!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "Please God don't let it be so!"
Quickly he scaled the fence and scrambled up the bank. From the top he looked out across his meadow below. Immediately his deepest fears were confirmed. His beautiful crop had been totally destroyed.
Staggering; tripping; reeling; Godfrey tumbled down the bank on the other side. Walking like a man drunk he lurched forward and fell down amongst the flattened stems of oil-seed rape. He picked one up and held it to his face.
He began to sob uncontrollably.
"Why?.. Why?… Why have they done this to me?" was all he could say.
 
4:30 pm

Roger slowed right down as he entered Canterford. At the cross-roads in the centre of the small village he took the turning signposted Carrowton. He looked up. A street-sign on the wall of the village shop on the corner read: 'Carrowton Road'. He was in two minds whether to stop or not. On this visit he was happy enough just to find the house where Davina and John Townsend lived. It was something worth knowing and he could then drive straight there next time.
Still driving slowly, Roger rounded a gentle bend in the road. On the corner was a big spacious house. He slowed down even more. In the driveway stood two women, one of whom he recognised. It was Davina Townsend; the woman who had come to him and thanked him for the return of the ring. He pulled up across the bottom of the drive and wound down the electric window of his Mercedes.
The two women immediately looked to the Mercedes to see what was happening.
"Good afternoon Davina," said Roger, "is your husband in?"
It took a few seconds for Davina to recognise the driver. Slowly a look of bewilderment turned to a beaming smile. She quickly walked up to the car and looked in through the open window.
"Why hello!… You're the man from the amusement park who found my wedding ring aren't you?" she asked.
She did not really need the confirmation, she was certain that she was right.
"That's me, I'm Roger Downton," he told her.
"I'm so glad you decided to call by and see us," said Davina. "I know we thanked you once, but I don't think it was enough… there was a reward you could have claimed."
"I told you at the time, I'm not interested in any reward. I'm just happy that you're happy, that's all," said Roger.
Roger felt embarrassed about the whole episode once more. This was the part he hated. He was even beginning to wonder why he had ever stopped. He did not have to. He could have just driven right on by and be winging his way to Mimi right this minute.
However Davina smiled to relax the pressure a little.
"Well it's still very nice of you to drop in and see us," she told him.
It was Roger's turn to give a little smile.
"I've actually called by because I might have a little bit of business for your husband,… so is he in?… I'm looking to get a burglar alarm system fitted, and I see from his card that he's in the business," explained Roger, and finally getting around to the one and only reason for his visit.
Davina nodded her head.
"Yes John's in… he's out the back… pottering in the greenhouse I think," said Davina.
"I'd like a quick word with him then if I may," said Roger.
"Sure," said Davina, "tell you what, just move you're car forward a bit so that my friend can get out, and I'll be with you in a tick."
Roger moved his car from in front of the drive as requested and got out. He looked to Davina's friend who was standing next to her car. He smiled at her and she smiled back at him. She was a woman of about the same age as Davina. Somewhere in her early to mid-thirties. She looked like the type of woman that could be very sophisticated but had elected to wearing jeans and hiking boots just to make a statement.
Roger walked up to them and Davina introduced the woman to him.
"Roger, I'd like you to meet an old school friend of mine,… this is Sylvia,… Sylvia Sparelli," she said.
"And Sylvia, this is Roger,… Roger Downton,… he's the man that found my wedding ring," she added and turning to her friend.
Roger and Sylvia shook hands.
"It's nice to meet you Roger," said Sylvia. "I know just how relieved Davina must have felt when she got her ring back."
Roger was finding himself getting embarrassed once more.
"It was nothing… honest… just my good deed for the day," he said.
Sylvia smiled and then turned to Davina.
"I best be getting back then Davina… It's been nice meeting you again after so long… keep in touch won't you… and good luck with the baby… I'm so pleased for you,"  said Sylvia.
The two women hugged and gave a little kiss.
"Yes, nice to see you again Sylvia,… and don't leave it so long next time… you know where we are now, so pop in anytime," said Davina.
"Will do Davina,… perhaps in the summer I'll pop down again,… we'll see," said Sylvia.
They kissed for a final time, then Sylvia climbed into her car. Roger watched as she backed out of the drive, then stood next to Davina as she waved goodbye.
As the car disappeared from sight, Davina turned to Roger. "Sylvia lived in this area when she was young. We went to school together," she explained. "She moved to London with her parents when she sixteen, and I've only seen her once or twice since then, so I think we've been chatting for most of the afternoon to catch up on the news."
Roger nodded his head, but he had not planned to stop much longer, and time was pressing.
"Can I see your husband now Davina… I've not got long, and I want to be away as soon as possible," he told her.
"Yes,… sure Roger,… come with me… I'll take you round the side of the house to the greenhouse."

5:00 pm

Mimi drove into the courtyard of Carrowbank Farm, parked up against the barn and got out. The traffic driving down had been bad, especially around the Littlesea area, and she was late. She looked around and furrowed her brow. Godfrey's pick-up truck was parked up right in the middle of the courtyard. At least he had returned from Scotland. However, she was thinking that something was a little strange. Godfrey never parked his pick-up truck there. At least she had never seen him do this. He normally left it around the corner of the house and out of the way. It looked like the truck had just been abandoned in the middle of the courtyard.
Mimi collected her travel bag from out of the boot of her car and set off for the farmhouse. She had a key to the door, but if Godfrey was home, then she guessed that would not need it. She dropped her bag on the step and tried the door. Strangely it was locked. She turned to face the courtyard. Where was Godfrey then? Where had he got to?
It was then that she heard a noise. It sounded like someone sobbing. She looked up to the roof of the barn opposite, and  immediately her jaw dropped.
"Godfrey!" she exclaimed.
Perched right up on the roof of the old barn opposite, on a small flat wooden covering that jutted out above the hoist to the door on the fourth floor, sat Godfrey Brookes. He was sat right on the very edge with feet overhanging the front.
"Don't come near me!… Leave me alone," Godfrey called down.
"Godfrey, what are you doing up there?" she called.
"I'm going to end it all," called Godfrey. "I've nothing to live for anymore."
"Godfrey… don't be silly… let me get help… just stay where you are," shouted Mimi.
Mimi wondered what best to do. Godfrey must have taken too many of his 'downers'. Quickly she found the key to the house and went inside. She grabbed the phone in the hall and dialled Roger at work. It was a private number he had given her. Roger would know what to do.
"Hellooo, McTavish here," came the reply after several anxious rings.
"Is Roger there?" asked Mimi, "This is Mimi speaking, and I need to talk to him urgently."
"Och, noo sorry Mimi," replied Mr. McTacvish, "Roger left a wee while a goo noo. We're are yee phoning from?"
"I'm at the farm Mr. McTavish,… and this is a real emergency… the farmer here's about to commit suicide, he's up on the roof and threatening to jump, and I don't know what to do," she explained.
"Och, look Mimi, Roger's on his way back to yee," explained the Scotsman. "He should be with yee soon."
"I do hope so," said Mimi. "I don't know what to do... The farmer, Godfrey Brookes is up on top of the barn and threatening to jump… I need somebody here soon that knows what to do."
"Och, look lassie, yee goo and see if yee can keep him taking, and I'll call the police and an ambulance," said Mr. McTavish.
"Okay, I'll see what I can do," agreed Mimi, "but please hurry Mr. McTavish, it looks like he's determined to jump."
"Yee put down the phone lassie, and I'll do it immediately," said Mr. McTavish.
"Okay, and be quick," said Mimi, and she replaced the receiver.
She would do as Mr. McTavish suggested. She would do her best to keep Godfrey talking until help arrived. Roger was already on his way, and Mr. McTavish was calling for help. She just hoped that someone would come in time to prevent a disaster.
Mimi returned to the courtyard. Godfrey was still perched high on the small protruding roof with his feet overhanging the courtyard below.
"Go away Mimi," he called down, "you can't do anything for me now."
"Godfrey, I'm coming up… just stay where you are and don't do anything silly," she called back.
Mimi sped into the barn and made for the stairs. After scaling four rickety flights she found herself on the highest level. She had not been up here before. There were bails of straw stacked everywhere. She quickly made her way over them and around them until she came to the doorway next to the hoist and overlooking the courtyard below. She could see legs dangling out from the protruding small roof above the opening. She breathed a sigh of relief. Godfrey had not jumped. There was still time to save him.
Mimi moved right to the edge of the doorway and held on tightly to the side of the door frame. She did not like heights and refrained from looking down.
"Godfrey, I'm up here now,… I'm in the doorway, and I want to talk to you," called Mimi from out of the barn.
"Go away Mimi," said the farmer. "There's nothing you can do to help me anymore."
As Mimi looked out into the bright sunlight and tried to re-adjust her eyes, she heard something rustling behind her. Then a cock crowed from inside the barn. This was quickly followed by another noise, this time the fluttering of wings. She turned around, to stare back into the darkness, only to see a cockerel flying towards her with talons stretched out before him. She immediately screamed and began to panic. The bird was heading straight for her face. She turned away and her foot missed the edge. Suddenly she felt herself falling. Quickly her arms shot up into the air in an instinct for survival. Her fingertips caught the edge of the small projecting roof and she clung on to the frail wooden structure.
Monty the cockerel missed Mimi's face by a whisker and continued on out into the daylight beyond. It spread its wings and fluttered all the way down. It landed with a thud below, then got up and squawked its way across the yard. The chickens already down there added their clucks to the noise and tried  hard to get out of the cockerel's way.
Mimi with both feet dangling and clinging on desperately to the edge of the roof called to Godfrey: "Help me please Godfrey, I'm falling…."
She saw the feet move and breathed a sigh of relief. Godfrey was coming to help her, but how much longer could she hang on?
She then heard the sound of a siren and cars approaching and she looked down between her up-stretched arms.
There was a police car followed by a big Mercedes driving into the yard.
Mimi breathed another big sigh of relief.
Her Roger had come to save her.

5:15 pm

Roger entered Carrowton village and drew to a halt at the junction where the road from Canterford joined the Carrow Valley road. He could hear the sound of sirens so he waited. A police car sped past and he pulled out to follow. The car was heading northwards and he wondered what all the urgency was about.
As the police car turned into the long drive that led to Carrowbank Farm, Roger speeded up. He wondered what was wrong? The track down to the farm was long and littered with potholes, but Roger did not care. By the time the police car reached the farm he was just behind.
Both cars stopped together and Roger jumped out, at the same time the doors to the police car flew open and out got a policeman and a policewoman. Both officers Roger had seen before. The lanky policeman he had met at the station, and afterwards the policewoman had been with the same policeman at Castle Point when Davina Townsend came to thank him for returning the wedding ring.
But none of that was of any immediate importance. What was more important was what was happening up on the roof of the barn. Mimi was clinging to the side and Godfrey was perched above her on the roof. The farmer was desperately trying to reach her.
"Mimi, I'm coming!… Hang on!" shouted Roger as he sped off towards the door to the barn.
Looking up as he ran, he saw Godfrey grab hold of Mimi's arm. The farmer had her. But his joy was short lived. Immediately he heard a great crack from somewhere above, and it echoed about the courtyard.
The policeman behind Roger called: "Watch out!… The roof's falling!" and Roger instinctively stopped dead in his tracks.
The whole wooden roof covering above the hoist, with Mimi and Godfrey clinging to it had broken away from the wall and was dropping like a stone to the courtyard below.
"Mimi!… No!" shrieked Roger.
But his own cries were quickly drowned out by screams from Mimi as the structure plunged to the ground.
The fragile structure landed with a great crash, and debris and shards of splintered wood shot everywhere about the yard. One sharp dagger-like piece of wood caught Roger on the cheek drawing blood, another much larger piece sliced cleanly through the sleeve of his best suit. But he felt or noticed nothing. All his concerns were for Mimi alone, and not for himself.
As the dust settled Roger shot forward again. Mimi was somewhere under the rubble. Godfrey had fallen clear and lay crushed and crumpled on the courtyard floor.
An ambulance screamed into the yard with sirens wailing as Roger tore frantically at the broken pieces of wood that was once a roof to the barn.
He found an arm.
There was a slight pulse.
Mimi was still alive.

End of Chapter Eleven