Dave Trellis and the Allotments of Doom Read Online Free PDF

I just can’t invent the maths necessary to prove it. I left
school and drifted for a while; then my entire world was turned
upside down by a visit to the local allotments.’
    ‘So how come
you’re broke and homeless?’ asked Dave.
    ‘I was funded
while in full time education. I get the rest when I’m thirty. My
parents felt young people are irresponsible.’
    ‘Sharp people
your parents. So you’re just a trust fund kid slumming it until the
inheritance kicks in.’
    ‘Hey, I worked
hard to fail my A-levels and now I’m trying to support myself. I’m
an entrepreneur not a trustafarian.’
    Fergus drew on
his cigar and watched the dim figures on the lawn struggling in the
growing twilight.
    ‘Don’t they
ever give up?’ asked Fergus.
    ‘Well, they
would have packed it in ages ago, but you went and buggered it all
up by scoring a try. That hasn’t happened before and the Palaver
never admit defeat. This could run and run.’
    ‘What? Nobody
scored before?’
    ‘Nope. The dogs
keep knocking the Palaver down like skittles. The Palaver keep
picking the dogs up and throwing them back down the pitch. It’s a
stalemate. Anyways, aren’t you worried, what with this rubber cast
around your legs and everything? Don’t you want to know what
happened?’
    ‘Strangely, I
feel completely at ease, happy even. It’s probably the painkillers
or perhaps this excellent whiskey. As to what happened? Well, I was
just about to score when I became very heavy and it all went dark.
I do remember dropping the ball though. I didn’t ground it; it
wasn’t a try.’
    Dave stared at
Fergus then smiled; he pulled a whistle from his pocket and blew it
long and hard. The yells, grunts, barks and growls stopped and out
of the gloom trooped twelve exhausted Palaver and twelve
dishevelled dogs. They formed a rough semicircle in front of the
pavilion and gave Dave, the official match referee, their full
attention.
    ‘Right listen
up! Full time, end of game, the score nil – nil. The try is
disallowed as Ace here,’ Dave hooked a thumb towards Fergus, ‘Tells
me it wasn’t grounded.’
    The Palaver
grinned like teenagers in a brothel and put up a tired, ragged
cheer. One the dogs muttered ‘hussen vaver’, turned round and
kicked grass at Fergus. Enoch stepped onto the veranda and patted
Fergus on the cast.
    ‘Honesty may be
own reward, but we do something nice for you. Good man.’
    The Palaver
wandered away, the dogs trotted off, unintelligible banter passing
between them fading in the night, with only a loud cry, and a sharp
yelp before the quiet descended leaving Dave and Fergus in the
bright light of a hissing primus lamp.
    Finally Dave
broke the silence ‘I don’t suppose you play Go by any chance?’
    ‘I’m not going
anywhere,’ said Fergus, ‘and it would be interesting to learn a new
board game.’
    ‘I’ll give you
a nine point start and how about a fiver on the side just to make
it interesting?’
    ‘Ok you’re on,’
said Fergus and shook Dave’s hand.
    ‘I’ll go and
get the board and stones,’ said Dave and stood up. He was gone some
time. When he returned he placed a thick wooden board on the table
and at each side a wooden bowl filled with stones the shape of Mint
Imperials, one set of stones black, the other white. Then Dave set
nine black stones on the thick wooden board, each on the
‘Three-Three’ points, the intersection of three lines in from each
corner.
    ‘This here is
considered your first move; you play on the crosses not the
squares. So how did you know it was a board game?’ asked Dave as he
played his first move.
    ‘Lucky guess?’
said Fergus, but the tone and the twinkle in the eye gave it
away.
    ‘Bugger,’ said
Dave.
     
     
    Sometime later,
after a string of humiliating setbacks, Dave sighed and passed over
a rumpled five pound note.
    ‘Thanks Mr
Trellis,’ said Fergus, ‘Not just for the fiver you understand.
Thanks for the whiskey, the excellent cigar and a cracking game