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As he unlocked the car, his mood was lighter than it had been in months. Now he just needed to check his theory – he didn’t want another mix up on his hands. Especially not now he knew there was nothing wrong with him. He got behind the wheel and pointed the car in the direction of Millie’s old house.
It was dark by the time he got there, so he parked in his usual hideout behind an overgrown bush. He really needed to step up his efforts on the garden. All this overgrown shrubbery was getting in the way of his snooping. First thing in the morning, he’d go buy himself some decent gardening equipment and get stuck into the place. At least something good had come out of all this enforced free time – he was picking up a new skill. It turned out he really got a kick out of gardening.
At the back of ten, Ken Doll drove past him, fixing his hair in the rearview mirror as he went. Jack scoffed into the darkness. As far as he was concerned this metrosexual lark was a dark path to becoming a transvestite. If he ever became interested in skin products or hair gel, he hoped someone would take him out back and shoot him – before he started eyeing up women’s shoes in a size thirteen.
The last to leave were the kids on the scooters, armed with Tupperware as usual. Jack wandered out of the bushes and watched them huddle together. He had to admit, a grown man lurking in the shrubbery wasn’t a good look.
“Hey,” the tallest of the three said. “It’s the guy who gave me ten pounds for a brownie. Do you want to buy more?”
“No,” Jack shook his head. “I’m police and this is my house. I’ve been worrying about what my tenant is getting up to and I want to ask you boys a few questions.”
Two of them looked scared, the one who sold him the brownie looked suspicious.
“Let’s see some ID then,” the suspicious one said.
Jack showed them his driver’s licence.
“Where’s the police badge?” the kid said.
“I don’t carry it when I’m off duty. This isn’t a police matter. But you’re welcome to call Brighton Police and ask them about me.”
The three kids stared at him.
“We’re not doing anything wrong,” one of them said. He had a really whiny voice.
“I know. I just want to know if Davina is trashing my house. I can’t legally go in for another week or so.”
“Aren’t you the guy from the garden?” The shortest boy pointed at him.
“I’ve been trying to get the place in shape. It’s a big job.”
“You could use some help,” the suspicious one said. “If you want to hire a crew on the weekends we’ll do it for a good price. Won’t we, boys?”
They nodded.
“I mow lawns all the time,” the short one said.
“Yeah,” the whiny one said, “and I know more about weeding than you do.”
“You need us,” the suspicious one said.
Jack shook his head to clear it. They were way off track.
“So about Davina. What’s she up to? Anything illegal?”
“No!” They rushed over themselves to speak. “Davina is great. She’s an awesome cook and really funny.”
“And we’re learning loads. I want to study filmmaking at college now. I didn’t know anything about it before we started working on this movie, but it is really cool.”
“Yeah, way better than animation. I thought I wanted to do that,” said the short one.
“He’s wicked at art,” the whiny one said.
“But now,” said the short one, “I definitely want to be a film director.”
Jack folded his arms and smiled encouragingly. He should have talked to the Three Stooges in the first place; it would have saved him a lot of grief.
“So you guys are making a movie?”
