The Episode After That (A Relatively Dangerous Situation)

Ever one to grasp the gravity of a situation, Tarquin grabbed me round the waist and threw me bodily into the van, which fortunately had come to a halt in front of us. I barely had time to remonstrate with him when I had to dodge out of the way to avoid Jonathan’s inert form which was hurtling towards me. Tarquin himself was next, though I did manage to dodge into his path, so it wasn’t all bad.

The side of the van was slammed shut and we sped away from the Jonathan’s house at a rate of knots, Sleaze’s impotent curses ringing in our ears.

As we careered along the narrow country lane, I became aware that there was something entirely too familiar about these large men. It could have been the sweaters, but I suspected something else. I looked from Tarquin to the man by the door to the driver and the man in the passenger seat and back again. By crikey, they were identical! I surmised that I’d suffered a severe head trauma and was daydreaming or Tarquin was one of quadruplets. Either way, it was rather a pleasant way to spend an afternoon in the back of a van. I must have looked a bit confused (or lustful) as Tarquin suddenly put his arm round my shoulder and declared, ‘Kats, these are my brothers. Yes, we are quadruplets, and no, you can’t find out if we’re all totally identical.’

He nodded his head at the one by the door. ‘That’s Godfrey, Quentin is driving and the reprobate in the passenger seat is Bob.’

‘Bob? That seems a remarkably pedestrian name for your family,’ mumbled Jonathan as he finally regained consciousness.

Bob turned and smiled. ‘It’s only a nickname, my real name is Peregrine St John Gaylord. Guaranteed to make life interesting when you’re a part-time stevedore.’

By this point my flabber was well and truly gasted and I sank immediately into a sullen silence. What more surprises would this day bring? And was I likely to be hit by any more poison darts, however pleasurable the remedy?

Tarquin, being the observant type, affectionately cuffed me on the chin and said, ‘It’s ok, I know what you’re thinking.’

‘No you damn well don’t. Not unless you’re thinking of crushed nuts and a large spanner.’

He wisely refrained from comment and moved sheepishly towards the front of the van, which at this point, was careering along a rather bumpy road, but came screeching to a halt as we rounded a rather tight bend to discover the road blocked by another sinister black van. It was beginning to look like the Sinister Black Van Owners Club AGM.

Quentin slammed the van into reverse, causing me to tumble over a carelessly discarded coil of rope. My head bounced neatly off the van floor, something guaranteed not to improve your day. I’d just managed to get myself upright, when we screeched to a halt yet again, and I found myself pitched into the arms of Tarquin and his brother Godfrey. I mumbled my thanks (it’s quite hard to speak when you have a mouthful of Gaylord) whilst struggling to break free of their vice-like grip.

‘Feisty little thing, isn’t she?’ yelled Godfrey.

I fixed him with the Librarian Death Stare, whereupon he promptly fell silent. Along with everyone else. Something was happening and my guess was that it wasn’t going to be good.

I saw Jonathan in the corner and crawled over to him. Just at that moment, there was a metallic clang from outside the van and then a very loud skittering noise.

‘Oh my god, it’s worse than I feared,’ whispered Jonathan hoarsely. ‘They’ve released the Giant Lobster of Doom. I have a suspicion that we’re all done for now.’

The back door to the van rattled, then was pulled off its hinges and flung into the road. We instinctively shuffled to the front of the van as a giant claw moved slowly inside the van.

What could we do? How would we escape? Tune in next time to find out!