Hubble Bubble (24 page)

‘When on earth has anyone in Hazy Hassocks ever had one of those?’

‘Well, I think it’s disgusting,’ Lulu huffed into the folds of her vast multicoloured scarf in the freezing darkness. ‘I’ve never heard of anything so vile!’

‘Sssshhhhh …’ Biff Pippin, only her bifocals visible
between the pulled-down black bobble hat and the done-up black mackintosh, glared through the icy undergrowth. ‘Keep your voice down. We don’t want to alert the quarry. And what’s so bad about your Doll and Brett getting married? They’ve been together longer’n most married couples after all.’

‘It’s not them getting married—’

‘Well, surely it’s not because they’re having a baby? Good Lord, Lulu – I thought you were a free-thinking, hippie, live-and-let-live girl? No one’s bothered about that sort of thing for years. Surely you haven’t gone all moralistic?’

Lu sniffed. The cold was making her nose run. And crouching in the dark twiggy ditch was making her legs ache. And her teeth were chattering. ‘No, it’s not because she’s pregnant either – although why she’d want to procreate with boring Brett is beyond me … no, it’s because she wants me to be a bridesmaid.’

Biff sniggered quietly. ‘Bloomin’ brave of her, if you ask me. And you don’t want to?’

‘What – me? In a meringue dress in some girlie colour? No bloody way! And – and—’ Lu was almost exploding in her fury
‘—and
she thinks I’m going to have my hair done! Done! You know – like … well …
done
!’

Biff chuckled. ‘Bet you do it, though. Bet you trot down that aisle looking like a proper little lady. Don’t matter how old you are, your mum’ll make sure you’re all scrubbed up on the big day. Mind you, your Doll’s picked a bit of a daft date, if you ask me. Everyone’ll be bushed rotten for Christmas after the celebrations.’

Lulu had thought much the same thing. Only the frighteningly organised Doll could possibly think that a Christmas Eve wedding wouldn’t cause any additional stress to the already overloaded festive arrangements.

‘Mum reckons she’s going to be at the village hall on Christmas Day doing dinners for the lost and lonely with her Baby Boomers, so she’s not having all the usual stuff
this year. And Doll and Brett will be on honeymoon. It looks like it’ll be me, complete with hangover, and Richard and Judy, home alone, with a nut roast and
The Great Escape
.’

‘Oh, I love
The Great Escape.
It wouldn’t be Christmas without it. And
The Sound of Music
and
The Wizard of—’

‘Good Lord, Biff!’ Hedley spat. ‘This is no time to turn into the
TV Times Quick!
Quarry approaching! Eleven o’clock!’

Squinting at her watch, Lulu shook her head. ‘Nah. It might feel like eleven, but it’s only nine-thirty. Cold enough to be damn midnight, though.’

‘It’s a directional indication,’ Hedley hissed indignantly. ‘Like the RAF used in the war.’

Biff and Lu exchanged raised eyebrows in the darkness.

‘There!’ Hedley pointed excitedly as a Range-Rover towing a trailer crackled across the farmyard’s icy ruts and disappeared along the track. ‘There they go! Now – we give ’em a few minutes to get out of sight then we move in! Okay?’

Biff and Lulu nodded.

Lu, knowing that tonight’s intelligence had once again been supplied by Gwyneth Wilkins and Big Ida Tomms, was damn sure she wasn’t going to be the first in. Not this time.

Tonight’s stakeout was on the outskirts of Hazy Hassocks, at a remote and ramshackle farmhouse on the road to Fiddlesticks. According to Gwyneth and Big Ida, one of the farm buildings was being used for illegal puppy farming. If, by some miracle, this awful information happened to be true, then Lu knew it was way out of their league. The RSPCA would have to be involved immediately.

The Pippins would have to be very, very sure of their facts this time.

‘Right,’ Hedley said, pulling his cap down over his ears, and getting creakily to his feet. ‘Let’s go and see what sort
of bastards we’re dealing with …’

With Hedley leading the way, they stumbled across the rock-hard ground in single file, their breath puffing out in smoky plumes and hovering in the brilliant white-cold night air.

The farmhouse was, as reported, dark, dismal and deserted. Surely, Lu thought with a shudder, no one could live there. The windows were cracked, the doors hung crazily from their hinges and creepers covered the crumbling walls. Maybe Gwyneth and Big Ida had got it right this time.

‘Don’t seem to me,’ Biff muttered, ‘that folks what drive Range-Rovers would be living in a hovel like this.’

‘There’s a couple of outbuildings over there.’ Lu squinted through the darkness. ‘Maybe we should look in there first.’

She had a really nasty feeling that they weren’t going to like what they found.

Hedley crunched towards the first of the tumbledown barns and switched his torch on to main beam. The yellow light swept up, down and round. ‘Nothing there. Nothing at all. Empty. Right – on to the next one.’

Lu followed in the Pippin’s wake. She really, really wished Shay was with her.

Again Hedley shone his torch round the interior of the barn in an all-encompassing sweeping arc.

‘Bloody hell!’

‘What?’ Biff frowned. ‘What’s going on in there?’

‘Ring the RSPCA,’ Hedley said gruffly. ‘Now. Tell ’em it’s an emergency. And Lu, you come inside with me …’

Chapter Seventeen

MISTLETOE KISSES

One dozen egg whites

One cup of caster sugar

Ground cyclamen bulb

Two good spoonfuls of lemon verbena

Pinch of ground nettle leaf

The merest pinch of crushed garlic

A good serving of vanilla

Mix together the cyclamen, lemon verbena, nettle, garlic and vanilla and set aside.

Whisk the egg whites in bowl with wooden spoon until
mixture standing in stiff peaks.

Fold sugar into whisked eggs.

Gradually add the herb mixture to the egg and sugar mixture.

Do Not Beat Further.

Spoon small quantities on to baking sheets greased with best butter.

Bake in very hot oven until meringues have risen and are light golden brown on top.

Leave to cool.

Note: Real mistletoe is deadly poisonous. These are NOT to be made from real mistletoe.

Mistletoe Kisses are very strong love potions indeed. When eaten they will, over a period of time from one to six hours
–
whichever the cook so desires and suggests at the time of making
–
provide a powerful aphrodisiac. There will be a loss of inhibitions. There will be a feeling of powerful love for whomsoever is nearest. Mistletoe Kisses can cause unlikely people to lust and fall in love. Not to be eaten lightly.

There was no sound but the keening of the icy wind. The feeble light from Hedley’s torch cast spooky shadows across blackened uneven walls and splintered beams. Lulu peered into the darkness of the towering, freezing, foul-smelling barn with mounting horror. Underfoot, the floor was matted with filthy straw. Hedley swung the torch in an arc, illuminating the interior of the whole building. The roof was almost torn away, leaving the barn exposed to the white-streaked sky and the biting cold. Despite this unintentional air-conditioning, the atmosphere was foetid. And the mould-encrusted walls were lined with makeshift wooden cages.

Squinting more closely as her eyes got used to the gloom, Lulu reckoned each cage was possibly six feet square, made of rough wood, with a padlocked hinged door and a small ragged chicken wire window.

Taking a deep breath, she moved carefully towards them. ‘Oh my God!’

A heap of pleading brown eyes and pathetic furry muzzles were pressed up against each of the cage’s chicken-wire fronts. Puppies. Dozens of puppies. All different breeds. And none of them were making any noise at all.

Lulu blinked back her tears, shaking with anger.

‘Christ!’ Hedley finally found his voice. ‘Okay Lu, let’s see what we’ve got. The RSPCA should be here pronto.
You know how to deal with this, don’t you? Don’t touch any of them. Just asses the situation.’

Sniffing back her tears, wiping her eyes on the raggedy cuff of her Afghan coat, Lu nodded.

In the years she’d worked with Biff and Hedley she’d helped in quite a few genuine animal rescues. Mostly they had been just domestic cases of ignorance and neglect and, after veterinary treatment, the animals had been cosily rehomed.

This was way, way beyond anything she’d ever experienced before.

‘Is it – is it puppy farming?’

‘Looks like it, though I’ve never seen anything on this scale before. Gwyneth and Big Ida must have picked up the right information for once.’

Walking slowly along the row of cages, Lu was aware that all the puppies cowered away from her. None of them growled. None of them whimpered. Their eyes were glassy.

‘Sedated?’

‘I reckon so,’ Hedley nodded, his face grim. ‘Bastards.’

There were possibly six or seven puppies to a cage. And at least twenty cages.

‘Nice little earner for some sod,’ Hedley said bitterly. ‘Let’s hope these little chaps are all alive.’

She looked again, not wanting to, knowing she had to.

It was impossible to tell. They all looked alive – just – and there were dirty bowls which may have once contained food and water in each cage, but whether any of the puppies would survive was another matter.

Wiping her eyes again, she took a deep breath. ‘I think they’re all okay. That is, I can’t see any – um – bodies … oh, shit! Why do people do this?’

‘Money,’ Hedley said, taking off his glasses and scrubbing at his eyes. ‘Big, big money. Bring ’em in from outside the country mostly. This time of year’s great … advertise them as Christmas presents for the kids … bring
the punters to see the puppies – just one or two, tarted up and undrugged of course, in some swish hotel foyer or rented room – punter falls in love, money changes hands – bingo!’

‘But all the advertising about animals not being suitable presents—’

‘Makes not a scrap of difference when little Campari insists that she wants a puppy this year. Very few people see the wider picture of introducing an animal into the home, Lulu, as you well know. It’s all fluff and wagging tails and big brown eyes – but when little Campari gets bored it can’t be simply pushed back into the cupboard, so we get another waif and stray – and the cycle starts all over again.’

Lu shuddered again. It was simply freezing in the barn. How could the puppies survive these temperatures? Why didn’t the RSPCA arrive?

‘So, even if they’ve had this sort of crappy start, they might go to good homes?’

‘Who knows? Some may do. There’s no vetting done, is there? They’re cheap and disposable. Most of ’em probably end up in Battersea or the like before New Year’s out. The ones what don’t get sold to punters most probably end their days in some lab or other.’

Lu whimpered. This was too awful. ‘And what about the mothers? Where are they? I mean, what happens to them?’

‘Kept in whelp constantly until they’re too old, then …’ Hedley looked away. ‘That’s the end the RSPCA needs to tackle. And they might be able to if they catch the evil sods behind this lot.’

Lu stared upwards and blinked towards the ceiling. If she started crying now she’d probably never stop. She suddenly wished that bloody Niall could be here to see this. He’d mocked her animal rights work all the time they’d been together. Laughed at her for being involved. Been disparaging when yet another tip-off had failed to be correct.

But this! Oh, yes – Niall deserved to see this!

Hedley patted her shoulder. ‘Come on, love. Chin up. We’ve contacted the right people. We’ll do all we can for these little fellows – and hopefully put a stop to the buggers once and for all.’

Lu sniffed again and wiped her eyes on the knotted hairy cuff. Her feet and hands were aching with the cold. It was still unnervingly quiet in the barn. She longed to open all the cages and haul the dogs out and cuddle them warm.

‘Cavalry’s arriving!’ Biff suddenly appeared in the doorway. ‘They’re coming up the lane. How bad is it, Hed?’

‘Bloody awful. Worst I’ve seen. Let’s hope the RSPCA have enough room for this lot – blow me!’ Hedley narrowed his eyes at the crowds of uniformed people appearing behind Biff. ‘How many did you phone?’

‘Everyone I could think of. RSPCA, of course – said there was a barn full to make sure they came out in force. Oh, and all the emergency services – just in case, because I wasn’t sure what we were dealing with.’

‘Good girl. The police will probably need to be involved in catching the bastards behind this. Right—’ Hedley became all officious ‘—over here, lads.’

Lu shrank back into the shadows as the various men and women in uniform swarmed in and took control.

It was all over very quickly. The puppies were removed from the cages, gently loaded into the RSPCA’s vans and driven away. The police and remaining RSPCA officials exchanged a brief conversation with Hedley, as the fire engine, clearly realising it wasn’t going to be needed, started to reverse up the rutted track.

Feeling sick, Lulu picked her way across the icy ground towards Biff. ‘What’s going to happen now?’

Biff wiped her bifocals on a mitten. ‘Poor little mites will be checked over then kept in the RSPCA shelters and hopefully rehomed. They’ll be okay. And a couple of the RSPCA blokes are going to hang around with the police to catch the buggers when they come back here. It might be a
drop in the ocean but at least we’ll have scuppered this particular little scam.’

Lulu nodded. It was something, as Biff said, but it was never enough.

The fire engine executed a neat circle at the end of the track, changing places with the waiting ambulance. Lu watched as itty-bitty Carmel, neat in her green catsuit and a bright neon jacket, jumped out from the behind the wheel. Didn’t they have any other paramedics in Winterbrook? Why did Carmel always have to turn up looking like Kylie, only perter, with Shay in tow, when she looked her absolute worse?