Chapter Eleven

 

By four o'clock, Jim was beginning to worry about Mary. He'd been keeping an eye on Cleo, and she'd not slipped into the dungeon to release the girl. Wondering whether she'd forgotten about the prisoner, he knew that he couldn't put an end to Mary's plight. Thinking it an idea to bring the girl up in conversation, he was about to say something to Cleo when she asked whether he'd go down to the local shop and buy some coffee for the percolator.

Reckoning that she wanted a chance to release Mary, he took some money from the till and left the pub. The rain had stopped, the sun beating down, as he walked along the street. Willycombe was a beautiful place. The village green, thatched cottages, the old church... But beneath the beauty lay the tunnel and the sex dungeon. Wondering how many people knew of the debauchery, he went into the shop and froze as he noticed Ruby Rottweiler standing behind the counter.

"I didn't realize that you worked here," he said, grabbing some coffee from a shelf.

"Neither did I until this morning," the woman mumbled. "I'm just helping out. I hope you haven't come in to buy condoms. If you have, then I won't serve you."

"Condoms?" he chuckled. "I haven't used a condom since I was... It's just the coffee I need."

"It's a bloody filthy habit, if you ask me."

"I can't agree with you there, Ruby. There's absolutely nothing wrong with coffee. Taken in moderation..."

"I'm talking about condoms. Sticking a rubber balloon on your penis and then shoving it up... Vulgar, that's what it is."

"We're all entitled to our opinion, Ruby."

"If only all men were like the vicar," she sighed.

"If only," Jim chortled.

"He's such a kind man. An upright pillar of the community. Keen to help others, anti-smoking, anti-drinking, celibate..."

"Celibate?" Jim laughed. "Er... I mean... He has a daughter, so he must have done it at least once."

"Daughter? She's a common whore, a slut."

"That maybe so, but she's still his daughter. Tell me, Ruby. What happened to the girl's mother?"

"She ran off with a choirboy. Dreadful, it was. She accused the vicar of having sex with convent girls."

"Really?"

"It was a terrible thing to say about the man. The vicar has bent over backwards to help others."

"I'll bet he has. Going back to his daughter. Do you remember when she was born?"

"Of course I remember. Such a bonnie little thing. Although, after her mother left, she changed."

"In what way?"

"She became a recluse, never leaving the house or meeting people. After a few months, she started to get out a little. She was never the same, though."

"Does she ever see her mother?"

"I really don't know. The woman has been to the vicarage on a couple of occasions. But whether she saw Mary or not... Why all this interest in the girl?"

"I'm curious, that's all. Well, I'd better be getting back."

"You're not so bad, for a man," she said as he passed her the money. "But if I see underage girls in your pub..."

"Don't you worry, Ruby. I would never allow underage girls into the pub."

"I'm pleased to hear it. By the way, you want to watch that Cleo girl."

"Oh?"

"I've seen her sneaking up to the convent at night."

"Sneaking? What do you reckon she gets up to?"

"I don't know. But I've seen her leaving the place with carrier bags full of something or other."

"Something or other?"

"Clothing of some description. I reckon that she sneaks around at night stealing."

"Right, well... I'll keep my eye on her. I'll be seeing you, Ruby."

"You can be sure of that."

 

Making his way back to the pub, Jim was certain that Cleo had been collecting bags of soiled knickers from the convent. She probably sold them to the sex dungeon clients, adding to her illicit profits. She was quite a character, he reflected as he walked into the pub and placed the coffee on the bar. Wondering whether she'd released Mary as he poured himself a beer, he asked her whether Crystal could supply him with a few pairs of soiled knickers.

"I expect so," she replied, frowning at him. "But, why do you..."

"They're for a friend of mine," he interrupted her. "It's his birthday soon and I know that he has a thing about knickers. I thought a few freshly-soiled pairs would make a nice present."

"Oh, I see. Actually, there night be a few pairs in my flat."

"In your flat? You mean, you supply your own dirty knickers to..."

"No, no," she giggled. "I... Crystal sometimes leaves some by mistake."

"By mistake?"

"When she has things on her mind, she... she sort of inadvertently leaves a few pairs from time to time."

"In that case, my luck's in."

"I'll get half a dozen pairs for you later. They're sealed in airtight polythene bags to keep them fresh."

"Perfect. Er... Does Crystal inadvertently leave anything else in your flat?"

"Such as?"

"Well, I don't know. Small bras, perhaps? Or possibly..."

"Possibly what?"

"Used tampons?"

"Used tampons?" she gasped. "What sort of man is this friend of yours?"

"Well, sort of normal, I suppose."

"Normal?"

"OK, abnormal."

"I'll see what I can do," she sighed, pouring herself a large vodka and tonic. "We should have a few customers in before long. I think I'll go and change before we get busy."

"Change your knickers?" Jim laughed.

"My blouse."

"Oh, right."

Sipping his drink as Cleo left the bar, Jim again reckoned that she was not only very attractive but... Realizing that he fancied her rotten, he hoped that he wasn't in love. That would be all he needed, he reflected. Love and lust don't mix. Love is fidelity, lust is fucking anything and everything with a girl-slit. His cock stiffening as he pondered on going to Cleo's flat that evening and shafting her tight rectal duct, he knew that he couldn't wait that long to drain his spunk-brimming balls. Deciding to order the girl to kneel behind the bar and suck his cock through the hole, he wondered where she'd got to. How long did it take to change a blouse?

Walking into the back room, he noticed her door open and ventured into her hallway. Calling for her, he couldn't understand where'd gone. Suddenly realizing that she must have slipped into the sex dungeon, he grabbed the opportunity to nose around her flat. If she appeared, he'd say that he was looking for her. But he wouldn't add that he was looking for her freshly-soiled knickers. Deciding to start his search in her bedroom, he opened her chest of drawers and grinned.

"Bingo," he breathed, eyeing dozens of pairs of navy-blue knickers neatly wrapped in polythene bags. Stuffing a couple of pairs into his pocket, he checked the other drawers. They were all full to the brim with freshly soiled knickers. This was quite a scam, he reflected, closing the drawers and looking around the room. Cleo must have had several secrets, he mused, eyeing her bedside table. Opening the small drawer, he discovered a small vibrator. The pink shaft sticky with her vaginal juices, slipped it back into the drawer as he heard the girl calling him.

"Oh, there you are," he said, leaving her flat and finding her in the back room.

"What were you doing in there?" she asked him accusingly.

"Looking for you. The door was open so I went into the hall and called out."

"I... I was in the cellar," she stammered. "I must have forgotten to close my door after making the sandwiches."

"Are you all right? Only, you looked worried."

"I'm fine. It's just that a girl doesn't like people looking at her private things."

"All I did was step into the hall and shout out for you. Believe me, I'm not in the habit of prying through other people's personal belongings."

"I know that, Jim. I wasn't accusing you."

"Say no more. You get back to the bar and I'll go and change."

Slipping into the cellar the minute Cleo had gone into the bar, Jim opened the wooden panelling and made his way along the tunnel. Wondering whether Cleo had released Mary, he hovered outside the dungeon door and listened for movements. This was a risky business, he knew as he pressed his ear to the door. If Mary was dressing and was about to leave the dungeon, she'd come face to face with Jim. Having nowhere to hide, he'd been in real trouble. Hearing nothing, he finally inched the door open and peered into the dungeon.

Breathing a sigh of relief as he stepped into the room and look about, he was thankful that Mary had gone. The poor girl had endured the speculum and the enema for far too long, he reflected, eyeing the empty glass bottle hanging above the examination table. A trail of water splattered across the floor, it was obvious that the girl's bowels had drained as she'd left the table and moved to the door. It would have been interesting to fuck her tight rectum and force the water out of her bowels, his cock twitching at the lewd thought. Deciding to fill the girl's rectal duct with beer and drink from her bottom-hole when he had the opportunity, he took a look around the dungeon.

Moving to the cupboard he'd hidden behind during his previous visits, he opened the door. His eyes widening as he stared at a row of habits hanging from a rail, he reckoned that these were the very habits the monks had worn in the church basement. Donning one of the habits, he decided to keep it. It might come in handy, particularly if he were to make another visit to the church basement. Closing the cupboard door, he looked up at the fluorescent lighting. Someone had put a lot of work into the sex dungeon. The floor was covered with plush carpeting, the stone walls pained white... A considerable amount of time and money had gone into the dungeon.

Eyeing a wooden bar running between two pillars, Jim was sure that this was a new addition to the dungeon. Ties with rope to the wooden pillars, the bar was about waist height. Unable to work out its purpose, he imagined a naked girl leaning over the bar. Reckoning it was to be used for spanking schoolgirls' naked bottoms, he grinned. This was all clever stuff. About to return to the pub, he heard voices and dived behind the cupboard.

"Get in there," a man bellowed as the door swung open.

"May I take the blindfold off now?" a girl asked.

"Of course, Maria. Now take a look around."

"What... what is this place?"

"This is where I punish girls."

"Punish? But, I didn't steal anything," a girl whimpered.

"That's not what the Reverend Mother said. This isn't the first time you've been caught stealing, is it, Maria. Is that what you did in Spain? Did you steal from your friends and...?"

"If my father finds out that I've been in trouble, he'll beat me," she sobbed.

"If your father has to come over from Spain, it'll be to take you back."

"You mean, I'm to be expelled?"

"The Reverend Mother has been good enough to offer you one last chance, Maria. She has suggested that I try to correct your wicked ways. If that doesn't work, then your father will be told of your expulsion and he'll take you back to Spain."

Peering around the side of the cupboard, Jim gazed at the Spanish girl as she cowered before a middle-aged man. Her complexion was dark, her jet-black hair matching the colour of her wide eyes. Wearing her school uniform, she hung her head as the man eyed the small mounds of her breasts clearly defined by the tight material of her white blouse. Was this a set up? Jim wondered, focusing on the girl's white knee-length socks. Was the man a punter and the girl playing the role of a naughty schoolgirl or was this for real?

"I want you to take your shoes and socks off," the man ordered the trembling girl.

"But... Why?"

"Just do it, Maria." Grinning as the girl complied, the man perched on the edge of the examination table. "And now take your skirt off."

"My skirt? But..."

"I'm not here to argue with you, girl."

"What sort of punishment is this? You want me to take my skirt off? If my father finds out that you blindfolded me and brought me here..."

"You don't understand, Maria. You have been caught stealing money. You tell your father that you were brought here, and you'll be expelled for stealing money and indulging in lesbian sex with another girl."

"Lesbian sex? This is a trick, isn't it? You know that I've never stolen money. It's just an excuse to bring me here and..."

"You have two choices. Either you take your skirt off, or I will."

The Mediterranean girl was extremely attractive, Jim observed as she unzipped her skirt and allowed the garment to crumple around her bare feet. Her white blouse concealing her panties, she stood before the man and awaited her next inevitable instruction. Ordering her to remove her blouse, he folded his arms and watched as her trembling fingers released each button in turn. Slipping the garment over her shoulders, her bra coming into view, she folded her arms to conceal her breasts.

Focusing on the smooth plateau of her stomach, Jim was sure that the girl was acting as he lowered his eyes to the triangular patch of bulging material hugging the swell of her love lips. She was a rare beauty, he thought, sure he could just make out the crack of her vulva outlined by her knickers. And a damned good actress. The flesh of her outer labia would be Mediterranean-dark, firm, hairless, rising alluringly either side of her pink valley of desire. His cock straining against his zip, his full balls heaving, he wondered how many convent schoolgirls were brought to the dungeon and forced to strip naked. Imaging a black girl standing naked by the examination table, he adjusted his solid cock through his trousers. Coffee and a fuck with Cleo that evening was a million miles away.

"And now your bra," the man instructed dark-skinned beauty.

"No," she said firmly. "I don't know what sort of punishment..."

"Do it, girl," he snapped. "You're here to be punished. Arguing will only make it worse."

"Are you going to force me to...?"

"Unless you want me to tear your bra off..."

Reaching behind her back, she released the hook and peeled the white silk cups away from her mammary spheres. Her chocolate-brown nipples standing proud of the dark discs of her areolae, rising in the relatively cool air of the dungeon, she again folded her arms across her breasts. Casting his eyes over the unblemished flesh of her near-naked body, Jim watched with bated breath as she followed the man's order and slipped her thumbs between the tight elastic of her navy-blue knickers and her shapely hips.

Easing the garment slowly down her firm thighs, the top of her hairless crack of desire coming into view, she finally allowed her knickers to fall down her long legs. Her outer labia were completely devoid of pubic hair, full and alluring in their symmetry. Jim could just make out the brownish petals of her inner lips protruding invitingly from her virginal valley of lust. Was she a virgin? he wondered as she stood naked before the grinning man. Her body trembling, she clasped her hand to conceal the crack of her vagina.

"Very good," he praised her. "You have a lovely body, Maria."

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked shakily.

"As I said, the Reverend Mother is offering you once last chance to mend your wicked ways. If I can put a stop to your stealing, there'll be no need to contact your father and you'll stay on at the convent."

"I've never stolen anything," she murmured softly.

"And you're going to have to stop lying, Maria."

"So, what are you going to do to me?"

"I have to punish you."

"You're not going to touch me, are you? If my father finds out that..."

"The only worry you have where your father is concerned is your expulsion. If you tell him that you were brought here and stripped naked... Don't make it worse for yourself, Maria. You see that wooden bar over there?"

"Yes."

"I want you to bend over the bar and touch your toes."

"But... You can't do this."

"Expulsion, or the bar. What's it to be?"

Watching the girl as she leaned over the bar and touched her toes, Jim focused on the fleshy swell of her vulval lips nestling between her firm thighs. The alluring sight sending tremors through his rolling balls, he again wondered whether she was playacting as the man parted her feet to the extreme and cuffed her wrists to her ankles. Her body laid bare, her sex holes completely undefended, she looked up between her legs as her captor moved behind her and ran his fingers over the moons of her naked buttocks.

"Now then, my girl," the man breathed, parting the firm orbs of her naked buttocks. "The time has come to..."

"There's a problem," Crystal announced as she burst into the sex dungeon.

"A problem?" the man echoed. "What's happened?"

"Cleo can't find Jim, the landlord."

"So? Look, I was just about to..."

"He said that he was going up to his flat to change, but he's not there. His door was open and Cleo has searched everywhere for him."

"Perhaps he went out."

"Maybe, but I think it best that you leave the dungeon. You can come back later."

"What about the girl?"

"Leave her there. She's hardly going to escape, is she? This is only a precautionary measure. In your position, the last thing you want is to be caught here with..."

"All right," he sighed, moving to the door. "From what I've heard, this new landlord is causing too many problems for my liking."

Frowning as Crystal left with the man, Jim wondered what the panic was about. As Crystal had said, he might have gone out. Something had happened, he was sure. Pleased that was wearing a monk's habit, he decided to emerge from his hide and make his escape. The girl would see him, of course. But with his face shrouded by the heavy hood, she'd not recognize him.

"Who are you?" she asked as he stepped out from behind the cupboard.

"No one you need worry yourself about," he whispered as he moved to the door.

"Please, you must help me," she said. "Let me go before that man comes back and..."

"It's all right," he chuckled. "You don't have to act the part of a captured schoolgirl."

"Act the part? Please, you have to help me. I'm not acting."

"Save it for your client."

"Client? What do you mean?"

"This is what I'm talking about," he breathed, standing behind the girl and running his fingertip up and down her creamy-wet vaginal crack. "Selling your cunt, Maria. That's what this is all about."

"Selling my... Please, don't touch me," she gasped as he drove his finger deep into the hugging sheath of her vagina.

"What did you think that man was going to do?" he laughed, massaging her hot inner flesh. "You stripped naked and allowed him to cuff you over the bar. What did you think he was going to do?"

"Punish me, that's what he said. I was caught stealing and..."

"Punish you? Is this how other convent girls are punished?"

"I... I don't know. I've never been here before. I was blindfolded and..."

"Come on, Maria. This is all a game, isn't it?" he asked her, sliding his finger out of her tightening sex sheath.

"It's hardly a game."

"I'll show you how he was going to punish you," Jim said, lifting his cassock and hauling his erect penis out of his trousers.

Retracting his foreskin, he ran the purple globe of his knob up and down her vaginal crack, creaming his glans in readiness to penetrate her pussy. The girl protested wildly, squirming and struggling as he pushed his bulbous glans past the wings of her inner lips and into the wet heat of her cunt. Holding his habit to his chest, he looked down at the illicit coupling. The Mediterranean girl's dark outer lips stretched tautly around the veined shaft of his cock, her vaginal muscles spasming, she was ripe for a fucking.

Forcing the solid shaft of his cock deep into the tight duct of her cunt, impaling the girl fully on his huge organ, Jim grabbed her hips and let out a gasp as her vaginal muscles tightened and squeezed his yearning penis. She was a fiery little character, he thought as she spat expletives at him and continued her struggle to break free. Fiery, tight, hot, wet... This was just what he needed, he reflected, withdrawing his veined shaft and again ramming his swollen knob deep into the heat of her pussy. Coffee with Cleo that evening was light years away. Maria's pussy was a godsend.

"No," the girl cried as Jim's bulbous glans battered her cervix. "Please..."

"Yes," Jim gasped, repeatedly driving his rock-hard cock deep into her cunt. "This is what you're here for."

"You don't understand. I was supposed to be punished for..."

"I am punishing you," he chuckled. "God, how I love punishing girls with my fucking great weapon."

Eyeing the dark-brown ring of her anus, Jim reckoned that the punishment should include a damned good anal shagging. Besides, it would be unfair to leave her tight rectal duct unfucked. The tight brown inlet, the hot rectal sheath... bottoms were made for fucking and spunking. And licking and spanking and thrashing.

Peeling the firm cheeks of Maria's naked buttocks wide apart, opening her tight anal inlet, Jim slipped his cock out of her hot sex duct and ran his cream-dripping knob over the delicate brown tissue of her anus. He could feel the heat of her body as she shuddered and writhed. She was ready for an anal fucking, a bowel sperming, he was sure. Grabbing his penis by the root, he pushed his purple plum hard against her anal iris as she again cried out and protested.

Ignoring her expletives, he watched his solid glans defeat her anal sphincter muscles and slip into the welcoming heat of her tight rectum. Holding her hips, driving his cock-head along her burning rectal sheath, he grinned as his glans absorbed the heat of her bowels and the hairy sac of his scrotum pressed against the fleshy pads of her swollen outer lips. Her tight arse completely impaled on his rod of lust, she writhed and gasped, her protests now whimpered words of anal defeat.

"God, you're a tight-arsed little beauty," Jim breathed, withdrawing his penile shaft until her brown ring encompassed the rim of his helmet.

"You'll pay for this," she sobbed.

"No, no," he laughed. "Your client pays for sex, Maria. I'm a monk so I don't have to pay you for illegal sex."

"When my father hears about this..."

"Surely, you're not going to tell your father how you earn extra pocket money?"

"Pocket money? You're mad. You're a sad..."

"Monk?"

"Bastard."

Sliding his veined cock in and out of the trembling girl's anal canal, Jim gripped her hips and increased his fucking rhythm as his sperm pump sprang into action. His orgasmic cream jetting from his throbbing knob, gushing into her rectal canal and lubricating the union, he threw his head back and wallowed in his much-needed sexual gratification. How many more convent girls would he fuck during his time at the Tartan Vicar? How many tight pussies and bottom-holes would he drive his solid cock into and flood with spunk?

Repeatedly ramming his orgasming knob into the Mediterranean slut's anal canal, Jim wondered why she'd been blindfolded as he drained his swinging balls. Perhaps it was all part of the game. There again, to lead her into the pub wearing a blindfold was somewhat risky. Had Ruby Rottweiler been around... They wouldn't have bothered to blindfold the girl after she'd entered the pub, he reflected. Surely, the idea had been to lead the girl into the dungeon supposedly keeping the place secret.

"Why the blindfold?" he asked the girl as he stilled his deflating knob deep within the wet heat of her sperm-flooded bowels.

"They... they didn't want me to know where this place was," she replied shakily, her anal muscles spasming.

"All part of the deception, I presume. So, where were you when they blindfolded you?"

"Behind the church. We met the man behind the church and..."

"We?"

"Crystal. She took me behind the church and..."

"And blindfolded you before bringing you here," Jim murmured, dragging his cock out of her inflamed rectal duct.

Zipping his trousers and lowering his habit, Jim left the dungeon and looked about the tunnel. He instinctively knew that the girl hadn't been brought in through the pub. Blindfolded, the possibility of the Rottweiler passing by, the customers in the bar... There was no way Crystal would take such a risk. Perhaps Maria wasn't a willing participant? he wondered, thanking God that he'd worn the habit, the heavy hood concealing his identity.

Hearing voices, he panicked. It was Crystal and the middle-aged man, he knew as he looked about the dimly-lit tunnel. "Shit," he breathed, realizing that he couldn't return to the dungeon without Maria spotting him. She'd tell the others about the fucking and... Noticing a concealed doorway in an alcove, Jim pushed the door open and bounded up the stone steps. Emerging from an opening surrounded by bushes, he knew that he was in the woods behind the church.

This was amazing, he thought, slipping the habit off and hiding the garment beneath some bushes. Leaving the woods and making his way back to the pub, he felt pleased with himself. Not only had he pumped his spunk into a slut's arse, but he'd learned more about the secret tunnel. Now he could slip into the woods and gain access to the dungeon without rousing suspicion, he'd be able to discover exactly what was going on, who was involved in the illicit business.

"Where the hell have you been?" Cleo asked as he walked into the pub.

"I had to go out for a while," he replied, smiling at the girl. "I wasn't very long, Cleo."

"I didn't see you go out," she breathed, flashing him an accusing glare. "I thought you'd gone up to your flat to change?"

"Yes, I did. I then went out for a while. There are no customers so I don't know why you're so angry. Are you all right? You look awfully worried."

"I... I just wondered where you'd got to," she sighed as one ring emanated from her mobile phone.

"Someone must have changed their mind about ringing you," Jim laughed, glancing at the phone lying next to the till.

"Yes, I suppose so."

Moving behind the bar and pouring himself a beer, Jim knew that Crystal and the middle-aged man wanted to leave the tunnel. Waiting for the all-clear signal, they'd be hovering behind the wooden panelling in the cellar. This was his chance to cause some problems, he mused, discreetly reaching beneath the bar and pressing the button. Wondering why they'd not left the tunnel by the concealed entrance in the woods, he waited behind the bar for the shit to hit the fan.

"Christ," Crystal gasped as she emerged from the back room with the middle-aged punter.

"Er... Why did you...?" Cleo stammered. "I didn't..."

"Where have you been?" Jim asked Crystal as the girl told the man to leave.

"I was just... just showing my friend the cellar," she replied uneasily. "Cleo said that it would be all right."

"Yes, that's right," Cleo rejoined. "He's... he's interested in old pubs. May I have a word?" she said, leading Crystal into the back room.

"You pressed the fucking button," Crystal snapped once they thought they were out of Jim's earshot.

"I fucking didn't. Jim was behind the bar, for fuck's sake. I'd hardly press the button with him there."

"Someone pressed it."

"Shush, he'll hear us," she breathed, unaware that Jim was listening to her every word

"Look, forget the button. There's a major problem," Crystal sighed. "A monk fucked Maria."

"A monk? What the hell are you talking about?"

"We left the girl over the bar, right?"

"Yes."

"When we went back, she said that a monk had fucked her arse. I saw the spunk, Cleo. It was oozing from her arsehole."

"But who... No one's been down there. Jim was out, so..."

"Unless someone went to the dungeon via the woods?"

"That entrance is only used for..."

"So, you explain it?"

"I can't," Cleo murmured. "A monk? None of the men would take one of the habits and..."

"Someone did. How the hell did they get hold of a habit? They're kept in the dungeon, aren't they?"

"I'd better get back to the bar. Go and take a look in the woods."

"What for?"

"I don't know. You might spot someone or something."

As Cleo returned to the bar and Crystal left the pub, Jim busied himself by polishing the brass pumps. He'd caused a real problem, he knew as Cleo hovered beside him, her mind obviously in turmoil. She looked extremely worried, her expression reflecting anxiety as she mumbled something about the weather. Jim was sure that she didn't suspect him of being the mysterious monk. As far as she was aware, he knew nothing about the tunnel and the sex dungeon, let alone the entrance in the woods.

"Well, we should have a few in at lunch time," he said, checking his watch. "Let's hope the sandwiches sell."

"I expect they will," Cleo murmured abstractedly. "Jim, when you went out... Were did you go?"

"To the local shop and then... Oh, I meant to tell you. I saw a monk hovering by the church."

"A monk?"

"Yes. He was looking around as if he was waiting for someone. I only took notice of him because he was acting in a suspicious manner."

"What did he do?"

"He hovered by the church for a few minutes and he then went into the woods. Most peculiar, don't you think?"

"Yes, very. You didn't recognize him?"

"No, no. He had his hood up so I couldn't see his face. There are some strange goings on in this village, Cleo."

"Indeed, there are," she sighed. "It's a shame you didn't follow him."

"I did, actually."

"Oh?"

"I thought I'd see what he was up to so I kept my distance and followed him. He followed a path around a bend and disappeared into thin air. He might have been a ghost."

"A ghost? Of course he wasn't."

"There's no other explanation. He was there one minute and, the next, he'd vanished."

"Perhaps you're right," she laughed. "There have been so many strange... Oh well, not to worry. I'd better get the coffee on ready for the lunch time rush."

"Rush? God, I hope so. What are Mondays usually like?"

"Pretty quiet."

"We might be inundated by a gang of ghostly monks," Jim chuckled.

"Or worse," Cleo sighed. "I'm going to my flat to take a rest for ten minutes."

"Yes, fine. I'll hold the fort."

Grinning as he sipped his beer, Jim reckoned that he'd caused enough trouble for the time being. He'd learned a lot. Looking forward to meeting old man Hops on Friday, he was almost ready to blackmail his boss. The man must have collected the dirty money on Fridays, he thought, wondering whether Cleo hung on to it in the meantime. A proper search of her flat was in order, he decided. And the anal rogering he'd been longing to give the girl. The evening was going to be interesting, and most rewarding.