Lurking
Title: Lurking
Author: True River
Book: The Charioteer
Characters: Ralph, Laurie, Patch
Rating: general
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters and make no profit from them.
Notes: Written in response to the MRF 2010 Spooky Story Challenge. The storyline arose during an IM with my_cnnr in which we discussed Autumnwatch, eyeshine, and brave little dogs.
Laurie shuddered at the thought. Not that it could be true, of course. There weren’t any big cats left in the country, everybody knew that.
"The old boy swore to it, and I never knew him to lie about anything," Ralph was quite definite about it.
Laurie hadn’t heard the tale before and mulled it over, finishing off his pint reflectively. A great cat like a panther, living in the wild up above Bridstow. Surely it wasn’t possible.
"Well, don’t tell Mrs. Brennan. She was in a state about finding that hedgehog, and what with the dead birds..." he shuddered slightly.
"I’ll set Patch on guard duty tonight." Ralph winked, standing up and drawing on his overcoat. "Time he started earning his keep."
Poor old boy, Laurie had no doubt Ralph would set the young dog to work. He didn’t want to make a fuss about it; Ralph accused him of spoiling Patch enough as it was.
The sun had already gone down as they left the pub and drove over the hills towards home. Laurie found himself peering deep into the darkening woods for anything that might be lurking there, a sinuous shape, a streak of movement.
It was quite dark when they returned. Patch barked and jumped up at them in such unbounded joy they could hardly get inside the door.
"Silly old dog," Laurie laughed, switching on the light and giving him some attention. He hoped Ralph would have forgotten the job he had assigned Patch. Unfortunately, a broken plate and a chewed slipper on the kitchen floor were not likely to go unnoticed.
"You go and sit down, Ralph, I’ll fix us a drink," he said hurriedly, hoping to avert a stern reprimand and final warning. Patch had certainly been rather badly behaved of late.
It was not to be.
Ralph looked down at the culprit in silence.
"I’m sure he didn’t..." Laurie began, then jumped violently at a crash and clatter from outside, followed by the horrible squalling of a cat. Patch whined and took the opportunity to slink between Laurie’s legs.
"Dustbin lid," Ralph decided.
Laurie wasn’t so sure.
"Come on, Patch," Ralph ordered briskly, reaching for the torch from the cupboard, as Laurie reluctantly disentangled him from his legs.
“We’ll all go,” he reassured him.
There was apparently nothing to see but the dustbin lid, still rolling around on the path, as Ralph had deduced.
As the torch swept the garden, Laurie caught sight of two white disks in the bushes.
“There!” He clutched Ralph’s arm.
“You’re all on edge, Spud. Black panther, eh?”
“No, it was... eyes!” But the disks had disappeared; there was no sound, nothing to see.
Ralph replaced the dustbin lid, and Patch led the way back into the kitchen.
Laurie felt distinctly uneasy for the remainder of the evening, and Patch kept close to him. Ralph occupied himself with the Sunday newspaper, absorbed and at ease, whilst Laurie turned up the radio a little louder than usual, ostensibly to listen to a concert. Thankfully there was no further disturbance that night, at least not during the hour or so of tense listening until Laurie fell asleep.
The next morning, however, when Mrs Brennan arrived to do for them, she was red faced, heaving herself down into the chair to compose herself, full of ill tidings.
“I really don’t know, Mr Laurie, four more birds this morning, you need to go and look. If you or the lieutenant has a gun...” she rattled on, as Laurie busied himself pouring her a cup of restorative tea.
While she drank, Laurie stepped outside, bracing himself. Patch was nowhere to be found. He moved what was left of the birds carefully off the garden path with his foot; there would have to be a burial later, and then they must decide upon a strategy. Firstly he would have to speak to the neighbours, but be careful not to alarm them, particularly old Mrs. Belton.
Ralph, however, had a more simple solution.
“Patch will see it off,” he commented, summarily. There were few people able to face up to one of Ralph’s straight looks, and Patch regrettably, was not one of them. He sloped towards the kitchen in the hope that Mrs Brennan had left him a light snack.
As dusk approached, Patch retired to his seldom-used basket, and understanding one another perfectly, Laurie directed Ralph’s attention away to a particularly interesting story in the newspaper.
At that moment, however, a violent crash, followed by a blood-curdling yowl, chilled all three to the bone.
Laurie, who was nearest the window, opened the curtain warily and almost jumped back, letting out a yell.
Ralph was there in a trice, flung back the curtain and looked out to total darkness.
“Good God, Spuddy, what the devil are you so jittery about?”
“Something was there... something big with white eyes...” he would have felt more of a fool if he hadn’t been so thoroughly shaken. Small whimpering sounds came from the direction of the basket, and lest Ralph should remember Patch’s fate, he carried on quickly.
“I’ll go and look. It’s OK, probably that cat.”
“Take Patch, he knows what he has to do.” Patch looked up at Ralph, wobbling a little as he got to his paws. In that moment of communication, officer to rating, it was known to all three that in order to be a Good Boy, Patch’s moment had arrived.
Once again, the three of them ventured forth, and this time it was Ralph who spoke, or rather cursed quietly. Laurie felt the hair prickling on the back of his neck as he directed the torchlight to Ralph, who was wiping from the underside of his slipper the slimy remains of a disembowelled hedgehog.
A sudden clatter from the direction of the Anderson shelter stopped him dead.
“Quick, Spud, Patch,” Ralph ordered them into position in a sharp whisper, handing Laurie a spade, and grasping a fork. They waited in silence, Patch shivering a little, but standing firm between them.
Ralph rapped violently on the side of the shed, with Laurie following suit, and in the commotion, a great black shadow hurled itself through the door, spitting and snarling and whipped away into the darkness with Patch at its tail, barking furiously.
===
So it was, they sat comfortably over drinks later that evening, Patch still basking in the glow of accolades received, having earned his stripe.
And the great black cat that had so terrorised Bridstow was never seen or heard of again.