In Pursuit Of The Blobfish

Arthur is waiting at the Butter Market. It is not what he had imagined. There is no butter on sale. Not anything really. An open circular building at the end of the main street. Ancient and breezy. A weather vane on top.

His phone rings. It's Sweezus.

Arthur? How're you doing? says Sweezus, in a crackling voice.

All right, says Arthur. I'm cycling to London to pick something up. Why?

Things are crap here, says Sweezus. I've run out of ideas. I might have to do something for Gaius.

Rather you than me, says Arthur.

Yeah, says Sweezus. Exactly.

What is it? says Arthur.

A report on the Twitcher, says Sweezus.

Twitcher's dead, says Arthur. What's to report?

The mayor of Wallaroo wants a full report on the mission to Turkey, says Sweezus. Gaius says he's too busy to do it. He's got a new interest.

What's that? says Arthur. A new woman?

Oh yeah right, says Sweezus, No way. It's an ugly gelatinous deep sea fish thing, a blobfish. So he's off to the coast, and I've got to do his report.

Good luck with that, says Arthur. The Wallaroo people were fond of the Twitcher. Don't tell them what really happened.

What really happened? says Sweezus.

You're breaking up, says Arthur, ending the call.

Rosie arrives at the Butter Market. Gets off her bike.

Hi Arthur ! says Rosie. Nice shorts! What's that on the bottom?

Blood, says Arthur. But it's dried now. Can you still see it?

Blood goes brown when it dries, not orange, says Rosie. Whose blood is it? Yours?

Arthur shrugs. It could well be the vicar's.

It's so cool that you've got a phone now, says Rosie. I couldn't live without mine. So, anyway, what shall we do? Go and look at the castle? They say the walls are collapsing.

Eat first, says Arthur. Let's find a bakery.

No need, says Rosie. I stopped at the bakery in Brampton for quiches and buns. And I've brought two apples.

See my poem in the window? says Arthur.

No, says Rosie. What poem?

Doesn't matter, says Arthur. A poem.

They move off in the direction of the castle, and are not near the Butter Market minutes later, when the Durham Constabulary cruise past.