NATHANIEL RAVES
One of the great advantages of living out in the country, perhaps the supreme advantage of living out in the country, is an ability to relax and enjoy peace and quiet. I am perfectly prepared to risk my eardrums in a nightclub in London, or Paris, or New York, and international airports can prove pretty noisy as well. But I like to take my ease at home, and take things easy.
You can imagine, therefore, my indignation a couple of weeks back, when my afternoon peace one Sunday was rudely shattered by a blaring soundsystem. I was entertaining a new romance in a shady corner of my garden: we were sipping a nicely chilled rose in the shadow of a large sun umbrella, and dreamily contemplating a fonder encounter still to come. Well, at least I was, though I suspect Eliane may have been more interested in working her way down the bottle, for she was a girl with a truly remarkable fondness for good wine.
Then our peace was shattered. It sounded as though someone had begun rehearsing for a gymkhana, or pony club show, because we could hear martial music, and a voice working on some kind of commentary. The noise was coming from the direction of a livery stables not far from my home, run by a nodding acquaintance called Jennifer. I knew Jennifer and her husband had been revamping the place completely, because they had moved out all the horses. I had been looking forward to them starting up again, because I quite like to ride from time to time, horses as well as women. I also like the sight of mounted girls clopping past my home, because it makes me feel pleasantly rural. But I rarely pay much attention to either girls or mounts, for both tend generally to be rather chubby and plain.
For a moment I thought the interruption a convenient reason for shepherding Eliane indoors, because I wanted to catch her best powers before she drank them away. But I knew the noise would drift in after us. I tried to ignore the sound, but it came on the breeze, so that from time to time it was really very intrusive indeed. Eliane began to frown, and then to look irritated, and I knew I had to take action.
I popped her into my Clio Williams, and we drove in silence. The stables are only about 300 metres down the road, but I did not want to take a chance on Eliane growing really grumpy. I knew, if she developed a headache, that I would have to return her to her flat in London. That, in turn, might well force me out on a limb, because I would then have to scout around, or refer to my little black book – and many, if not most, of the entries in my little black book are married women, with other priorities on Sunday afternoons.
The noise was coming from the stables, sure enough. Men were busy fixing loudspeakers to various floodlights, and Jennifer was stomping around being bossy. I parked the Clio neatly, and left Eliane listening to the car radio, though I fear pop music from Star FM did little to block out more martial sounds. But I was in a hurry: I thought another bottle of rose might do the trick, but Eliane was looking grumpier and grumpier, and it was fast approaching the touch-and-go stage.
I approached Jennifer politely, and gave her a low-level love look as I explained my predicament. ‘It’s tricky’, I confided. ‘A new girlfriend. But the wind is blowing my way.’
Jennifer pondered the matter magisterially, and smiled – my low level love looks are often most effective. ‘I’ll tell them to turn it off.’
With that she blew a sharp blast on one of the most penetrating whistles it has ever been my misfortune to hear, and waved both arms in a flailing windmill fashion. The noise ceased, just like that. Obviously someone pulled a plug. The men with the loudspeakers all turned to see what was interrupting their work, and one – a thickset young fellow in a T-shirt, with close-cropped hair, a ring in one ear and a nasty expression – made his way towards us.
Jennifer was superb. ‘This gentleman is a neighbour, and we are wrecking his Saturday afternoon.’
The close-cropped young man made a face, and stared past me at Eliane in a most insolent manner. I could easily have wiped him, there and then. But I felt that would have been a touch de trop, just as things were going so well, and I knew that Eliane always thrived on admiration. I had a feeling the close-cropped man might be wishing me harm, but might in fact be doing me good.
Jennifer turned to me, and smiled charmingly, totally ignoring him. ‘Jim’s sub-contractor.’ She spoke as thought she were talking about a pony, or perhaps a dog, and made it very plain that she was putting clear blue water between Jim, her husband, his business interests and herself. I had the feeling that she had a warm spot for me.
The close-cropped young man glowered. But the contract must have been rewarding, because he turned, and stomped off without a word.
I must say that I was impressed. But I am also a cautious being, and profited from my visit to get Jennifer to show me the mains connection. One never knows when trouble may brew up again. Then I drove Eliane back to my house, and we returned to the garden. Mind you, it took me another bottle and a half of rose, perhaps a litre in all, to bring her to full friskiness. But the alcoholic investment proved well worthwhile. I do like my women to be demanding, and Eliane gave both my ends the time of their lives.
The summer drifted on, and I began to think of adjourning to my chateau in France. The rave erupted a couple of days before I planned to leave. I was in bed with a Swedish au pair girl, having an early night, and dreaming of sex, more sex, and even more sex – because malefactors are nothing if not consistent – when an explosion of sound knocked me clear out from under my duvet.
The noise was horrific, a solid rhythmic pounding, many, many decibels in excess of anything a pony club might foster, and it was just a few minutes after ten. I dressed at speed, leaving my au pair girl hiding, with her duvet clamped around her ears, and made it to the livery stables in Olympic Game timing.
It was just as well that I used my own two feet, rather than the Clio, because the road past the stables was jampacked with cars. The place was crawling with teenagers, and a fair number of little girls who should by rights have been tucked up tight. I pushed my way towards the main stable building, a green, barn-like structure, to find my way barred. A couple of tough-looking men in dark glasses and hooded sweatshirts were standing at the stables’ gateway, collecting money. I could see Jennifer’s sub-contractor standing beyond them, watching in a proprietorial sort of way, and I could see he was smirking.
I tried to push through, but they barred my way. ‘This is a private party, mate’, one growled. ‘It’ll cost you a tenner if you’re a teen, and a score if you’re poncing about hunting for young blood.’
I was outraged. I thought of knocking his dark glasses flying, to pay him off for his insolence, and then perhaps sending him somewhere hot and fiery, but held myself back. There were more hooded thugs hanging around in the background, spoiling for trouble, and could see little point in starting a fight, when I risked burying myself in bodies, and having half the teenagers for miles around trampling all over me into the bargain.
I realised that someone was tugging at my arm, and turned, to see Jennifer standing beside me, with her husband a little way behind her. ‘They moved in about half an hour ago, and told us to stuff ourselves when we complained.’ She spoke a little breathlessly. ‘Jim paid them off this afternoon, in cash, when they finished installing the speakers, just after you left, so we had no comeback. We’ve called the police.’ She looked up at me imploringly. ‘Do you think you could get in and turn the power off? He won’t lift a finger.’
I thought for a moment. ‘I’ll need something sharp, and insulated,’ I replied. I barely glanced at her husband. I knew him for a weak sort of man, pretty much of a poltroon. The kind of man you find around a bossy woman.
Jeniffer vanished, to reappear a moment later with a pair of secateurs and a big plastic gardening gauntlet. I warmed to her. She might have been bossy, but she certainly knew how to move. Then I fished for my wallet and found a twenty. It was no time to argue, the noise was driving me spare. The man collecting entrance payments grinned at me sourly, and I marked him mentally for another day. I have the power to fry brains like bacon if I choose, and I was very definitely choosing.
The barn, and the field beside it, were now jumping up and down with a myriad young ravers. Ecstasy filled the air. Ecstasy probably provided most of the motion. I made a beeline for the mains connection. A couple of thugs were posted on guard, so I just moved a little away along the feed cable, and cut it deftly.
The effect was magic. All of a sudden everything failed. No light, no sound, just a barn and a field filled with shocked young people. Then anger erupted. People began shouting and screaming. I could see blue lights flashing out on the road. The thugs guarding the mains connection located my cut and began to grow busy. One of them, at least, must have been a skilled electrician.
I thought of cutting the cable again, perhaps in several places, but I could see police at the gate, and felt I had done my duty. I made a mental note to recover my entrance payment from Jennifer’s husband.
I found Jennifer in something of a state when I rejoined her. She was standing in the middle of the road arguing with a policeman: her husband had vanished. She turned to me in a state bordering on anguish.
‘You talk to this man, Nathaniel. He’s being impossible.’
The policeman and I eyed each other. His manner was officious, and a touch less than respectful. ‘Who are you, sir?’
I scowled at him, and gave him a nasty look. Nothing very strong, but I saw him wince. ‘I’ve just cut the cable.’
‘Why, sir?’
Jennifer came in right on cue. ‘I asked him to, he’s a neighbour.’
Two more policemen came up. One was an inspector. ‘You better not do it again,sir.’
I was affronted. ‘Why not?’ I toyed with the idea of sending out another nasty look, but decided to keep it for later. It was dark, and my powers work better in good light. One must never waste one’s resources.
‘Because we’ll arrest you, sir, if you do.’
The man’s voice was sober, and level. But I could not believe my ears.
‘You can’t stop me.’ My voice rose in anger. ‘They’ve invaded private property. The owner has asked me to help her.’
‘Yes, we can, sir.’ Now he sounded determined. ‘We’ve got a mob of more than five hundred excited teenagers in there, and there’s no way of telling what they may do if they are provoked. They could tear the place down.’
‘But you are the police.’
‘We’re five against five hundred, sir. The odds are stacked against us.’
Jennifer ignored him. ‘The cable runs along the edge of the field, Nathaniel. Take it out in several places. I’ll get Jim to replace it.’
The inspector put his hand on her arm. ‘I’m warning you, madam.’ His tone was severe. ‘I will arrest you for a breach of the peace if you continue in this manner.’
She shook him off, but it was too late. A police van pulled up, and a couple of policewomen seized her. I suppose I could have made a scene, and tried for my best shot consistent with the lack of light, but I suspected that my batteries might not be at their best. I need bright light, either natural or artificial, to get off my best killing looks, and I feared that my Swedish au pair girl might also have drained me. I may be a malefactor, but I am not inexhaustible.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, I let the police arrest me. The noise began again as we left in the police van, but I noticed that the inspector and his men stayed to keep a watchful eye on developments. They took Jennifer and myself to Slough police station and held us in an interview room. A nice policewoman brought us mugs of hot, sweet tea, and was frightfully apologetic. She said we were being kept to cool us off. I wondered how my Swede might be making out. I imagined, if she were unable to sleep, that she might have gone raving.
We stayed at the police station for a couple of hours, then they drove us back to the stables. It had begun to rain quite heavily, and the teenagers had tried cramming themselves into the barn. But the rain had worsened, and they had all trickled off home. Sometimes I think the powers of heaven sympathise with us malefactors.
I wreaked my vengeance a couple of days later. Jennifer found the villainous contractor’s name and mobile number amongst her husband’s papers, and I set up a meeting. ‘Big job,’ my man said, as I listened beside him – I did not want to risk the sub-contractor recognising my voice. ‘We’re completing an industrial development in Langley, down by the station, and our electrician has pulled the plug on us. We need someone badly. A third cash down, all folding readies, balance on completion.’
The contractor’s greed flowed out of the phone. He would be there next day, he said, with a couple of his men.
He brought the hooded man who had been collecting the entrance money, plus another out of the same kind of box, but this time none of them were wearing dark glasses. I brought Jennifer, to savour revenge, but told her to stay in the background.
I think the contractor and his henchmen were surprised to see me. But I didn’t give them much time for reflection. I fried three sets of brains as crisp as bacon, and my vengeance gave me great satisfaction. I think Jennifer was both surprised and shocked, but I swore her to secrecy.
The police inspector who had spoken to me at the rave called on me a couple of days later. It was a strange sort of meeting, because he came seeking knowledge and understanding, but I played a very straight bat. We chatted indecisively for a few minutes, and he asked me whether I had heard of the men’s deaths. I nodded solemnly, and told him that their end was the talk of the neighbourhood. Which was true, because everyone was blessing heaven.
‘You have no knowledge of how they died, sir?’
I shook my head politely. I imagined that someone must have seen us meeting. ‘Perhaps somebody gave them a shock. Perhaps they were overloaded.’
The inspector waited for me to continue, but I stood up. I felt that it was time for him to go. We smiled at each other, and shook hands.
Jennifer called a couple of days later. She came with an envelope, but I would only accept a score. I felt I had acted to protect my own eardrums. But we did dally for a couple of hours, before she returned to her stables.