Tuesday 19 August 2014

The Adventures of John Wilson the Countryside Detective

Case 1: The Case of the Missing Turnips

12th June

Woke up and fell over. Had got my pyjamas in a twist, been sitting on the loo and dropped back into sleep, in a moment of panic had tried to pull them up. Lack of space and dreariness were contributing factors . There was a coldness about the place. Maybe that had something to do with it being 5am and the toilet being at the bottom of the garden. I stumbled back to my room, pyjamas still twisted, deciding that breakfast would be first on the agenda. The life of a detective was full of difficulties and tough decisions. I put on my tuxedo and shorts and then tiptoed down the stairs, trying to avoid those bits of carpet that are worn and slippery and can take you on a tumble downwards to the floor below. I got away with it this time. 

I moved swiftly towards the kitchen table, sliding onto a chair and nearly sliding off the other end. Suddenly I felt breathing behind me. Whoever it was had bad breath. Slowly I turned, picking the small water pistol from my array of weaponry concealed within my tuxedo. I was ready for the unexpected. Turning quickly I discovered it was Mum. 

"Your Brecky will be ready shortly, so be patient", she barked. 

I sat back, tipping the chair too far. Falling over was becoming something of a regularity it seemed. After my cornflakes I washed, which wasn't easy when wearing a tuxedo. Changing from my now soaking wet clothes into my more casual detecting gear; long dark coat and shorts. I set about the day in a positive frame of mind, all be it with a slight headache from the events of earlier. I had a feeling that today was going to be a good day, a day were my detecting skills would make me the talk of the village and it's surrounding areas. I'd be in the local paper, perhaps even the county news letter? I'd be a hero. 

I abruptly came back to reality, as a whiff of something horrible hit my nose. I had been daydreaming and found myself outside the toilet once again, mum was inside. Turning sharply to avoid any further stench from the toilet I returned to the house. I looked at my watch. It had stopped. In fact time seemed to have stopped and the day passed uneventfully as most days did. I went to bed that night unaware of the events that were about to change my life for at least the next week. The case of the missing turnips was about to begin.  


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