Roadside people

Skelton could hold back no longer. 'Take the boys and lock yourselves in the butler's pantry - keep them occupied' he ordered Prudence. 'No Daddy, no' she screamed. 'Just do as I ask for once - please' he said firmly.
By this time Weare and Aveton were looking terrified. 'Don't worry, darlings, it's all a game' said Prue. 'Let's go - bring your ipods'. She ushered them further into the house to the windowless pantry and locked the door. Fearful and trembling, her one thought was to keep her boys safe.

There was a loud bang! A shot - or was it thunder?

At that very moment Hittsleigh, having consumed yet more of his home-brewed cider, staggered out of the farmhouse door brandishing his shotgun...

Grinacombe shivered as he felt another thump on the side of the car. 'Them there cows is gunna chuck us over, Harcombe' he shouted. 'This whole thing is a bad idea, trying to get summat out of the old lady, and by the looks of it she ain't even 'ere'

'Shut up, you idiot' exclaimed Harcombe. 'That Lady Sybil is no Lady; she would've paid up if we'd got here sooner and threatened her. She wouldn't want that secret to be known round these parts'. 'We've got to get out of here pronto or think of some good reason why we've come'.

(I think Elegran is in charge, but I would think present day as Aunt Sybil went off on, I think, an Airbus 380 to India. Boughton's here, is he?).

Hittsleigh could see Bill trying to herd the cows into the milking parlour, but they were so distressed that he was having some trouble with them. Bill yelled out - 'Mr Barton, sir, please I need some help with these ladies'

Hittsleigh rushed out, leaving Prudence with Skelton and the twins in the farmhouse. 'Shut the door' he yelled as he went. Prudence clung to the boys and her father, staring out at the lashing rain. The lightening ripped the leaden sky apart and the thunder crashed overhead.

Meanwhile, in the farmyard, Harcombe Bottom and Grinacombe Moore cowered in the car which had been surrounded by desperate cows.

(How's Boughton got here? Hittsleigh hasn't phoned him yet! )

I now have a real longing for some cider, and we don't have any!

(Crossed posts, janerowena, but I think we're in the present-ish day judging by the cars!)

Ok, so now I have approval I feel safe to continue.

Well, luckily just at that moment Bill Selsey appeared from behind the tackroom, hurriedly tucking his shirt into his trousers. Hittsleigh was very relieved to see him swiftly heading off in the direction of the cows, but did wonder why he hadn't used the outside farmworkers' loos.

Boughton's sharp eyes however had not missed the flash of blue that followed him two minutes later, as Mavis Enderby, the dairymaid and general help, also appeared.

(Psst, what era are we in?)

Hittsleigh was becoming worried about his state of mind. Why was he so convinced that something bad was about to happen? Why did he fear for the safety of his family, and even Aunt Sybil, miles away and apparently having the time of her life?

Could it possibly be the amount of home-brewed cider he was drinking every night? Or...was someone tampering with his vittles?

(No, we need him (unless he has been bumped off in which case the cows will be stampeding!))

Would it be cheating to call the cowman Bill Selsey rather than Selsey Bill?

Boughton had solved some very high-profile crimes - his aristocratic background was no deterrent to him being fully aware of the seedier side of the criminal underworld.

But as no crime had (as yet) been committed - what could he have told Boughton, thought Hittsleigh? His fears for the safety of Aunt Sybil? - who was now overseas anyway? The thought that someone close could be having murderous thoughts? Should he just wait until something had happened or could he do some sleuthing himself?

The children's safety was of paramount importance and he should get them away from here to a place of safety - but how?

In the meantime someone had to milk the cows, who were still outside and sounding more and more distressed ....... where was that dratted cowman?

As he hugged them, he wished he had thought of phoning his best friend, Boughton Monchelsea, a very odd but fiercely intelligent upper-class police inspector, and asked him to come down to stay for the weekend.

*
Hittsleigh made himself at home in the kitchen. He could feel the tension in the air. The latest text from Aunt Sybil gave him confidence, but he knew she still had a dangerous job ahead of her if all was to go according to plan, so he needed to remain calm. He stood up to introduce himself to Harcombe. "And who are you?" he asked.

At that moment, Weare and Aveton crashed into the kitchen. "Daddy!" they exclaimed, and rushed towards him, closely followed by the 4 dogs. The opportunity to find out who this shady looking man was became lost in the bedlam of delight at seeing his sons.

It was dangerous, she knew, but who would suspect an old woman? Somehow she had to do her utmost to save the farm and all those acres - it had been in the family for generations and Sybil could not bear the thought of it being sold to some 'celebrity' as a hobby farm - or, worse still, being sold off in parcels for housing!

This was the only way and - if she were to be caught - what would they do to her? She had been an actress in her youth before marrying her darling husband and she was sure she could still carry off a daring escapade like this with aplomb!

(Actually, I had thought it was just you writing it, Elegran, until others contributed. It was never made clear...)

(Well done Ffinnochio - get the momentum going again without expecting someone else to entertain you. This is a group mystery, not a play to watch passively)

Aunt Sybil knew she must keep up her pretense of wanting nothing better than to enjoy the excursions already planned. An old woman who wished to visit the orchid nurseries of West Bengal. However, her concerns were of an entirely different nature. She had arranged to meet a contact at Cooch Behar, where she would be given a package which would finally settle the financial mess Skelton had made.

She arrived at Malda airport late on a Wednesday evening.

(It's lost its momentum...)

(I thought it was getting more and more interesting....only it's stopped.)

(Somehow the storyline has become less than gripping...)

(If you want a murder now, why not write it? You will have to be able to explain the circumstances though)

This is not part of the story:

Elegran You can't have the murder on page one, you have to establish the characters and the whereabouts of everyone at the critical moment.
I have just read a very good book where the death (murder?) took place in the first few pages, but we did not know who died or whodunnit until the end. It was very intriguing and kept me hooked.

(Or maybe it's someone else altogether.....)

My sails too, Alie. Red herring? There is time yet, of course. While she is on her way to Darjeeling she is out of the protection of her loving family. Or out of the reach of her murderous family, of course.