Little Piggies Went To...

I wanted to follow in our kid's footsteps, a Second World War hero
in my eyes. When big brother Brian left the army early, he blamed
shellshock. His snotty nosed wife, Josie, was waiting for him when he
got home. I couldn't stand her, and she hates me.
He first met her at a dance before his regiment left for Europe. She
was middle class and a spoilt brat. Brian and me were rough and ready
and too good for the likes of her. Uniformed soldiers all look alike,
whatever their background. She fell for him. He just fancied a crack at
her smashing body, though, but she conned him into tying the knot,
before he left before for the front,
He defied Prim and proper Josie and rented a terraced cottage on the
hill. She had her mind set on buying a house in a residential area
where her mummy and daddy lived. Living on a council estate was below
her station.

"I want to live near mummy."

"And I want to live near me mam."

Our mum never could stand Josie's airs and graces. "Trying to be
summat she's not. Not gaffer our Brian'll - he'll soon soften
her."

Her ' Royal Highness' had no say in the matter again when he leased an
allotment on the ridge to raise livestock. She went spare when he stuck
chicks in the hearth to keep warm. (Boy, what fun I had rounding 'em
up.) And when they soiled her rug. "Mummy bought that for a wedding
present." Fibber - mummy pegged it.
It sickened her when Brian lobbed sick chicks on the fireback and
watched them burn alive. Crackling bones and stinking flesh didn't
bother him. The horrors of war had toughened him up.

Suddenly had a brainwave. "Josie, think I'll keep pigs."

"Not in the hearth, you're not."

"Don't talk wet. Aye, start with a sow and a boar." His eyes lit up.
Aye, make a bob or two with pigs."

"Always on the make," she snapped. "Didn't you make enough out of the
army?" then all lovey-dovey. "Brian, pack it in, love, before you get
caught. Get a proper job."

"Pack it in?" He jumped up, stood in mock attention and saluted. Aw, I
could tell at once he was only fooling. "British troops didn't pack in
after Dunkirk. Won the war. Had them Nazis on the run."
***

Brian nicknamed two piglets, Hitler and Eva. Built a pigsty and two
sheds for storing food and boiling pigswill. Installed paraffin lamps
for working late, which narked Josie. "See more of them flaming pigs
than me." They were till sort of on their honeymoon."

She didn't moan though when the money started rolling in; folk
snatched Brian's hand off. Cheap eggs and chickens for vegetable
peelings. Tight fisted Josie begrudged that part - and me getting a
weekly half crown for collecting sacks of peelings. She also begrudged
our mum free eggs. Different though, when mummy came scrounging.

Josie's earlier threat didn't last long. 'If pigs come here - I go!'
What a showing up for mummy who soon whipped her back. 'A wife's place
is with her husband.'
Josie's two brothers threatened to sort our kid out. Tried before and
came second best.
***
Every year, a fair visited the estate where I had fun spending my
wages. Brian, an ex-army driver got a part time job there, shifting
fairground rides. It meant working away. Sourpuss didn't relish
traipsing up the ridge to feed Hitler and Eva with no streetlights and
winds howling like Banshees. She talked me mum into letting me stay
when Brian went off.
At home, I had it made. Mum did all the housework. Even made me a pot
of cocoa while I snuggled up to the radio to listen to my favourite
Private Detective serial. Never missed an episode, yet. Fancied myself
as a private Dick, I did.
Mona-lot never lifted a finger while I was there. Do this - do that! I
was knackered after bedding down Hitler and Eva, washing mucky pots and
tidying up. Kept nodding off, ear glued to the radio.
***
Early one Saturday morning, I was stunned to see Josie come out of the
pigsty and padlock it. Funny, she's usually in bed till noon. I cleared
my throat, voice ready to break. "Where's our kid?"

"Not here. Flaming got me."

She hated Hitler following her around, trying to stick his snout up
her bum. What joy! Her face went redder than the water in the rain
barrel she'd just washed her blooded hands in. I hid behind a smirk.
"Aren't you going to let Hitler and Eva out?"

Her reply devastated me. "Gone to abattoir to be slaughtered."

"You hated them pigs."

"No - love pigs - tasty with applesauce."

To further my misery, a shovel-like hand grabbed me from behind. PC
Daniels, the local nick, had sneaked up unawares. Jerking me round, I
got a whiff of his hot, whisky breath. Widow Green, at no 5 gives him a
tot - among other things. "Keeping your nose clean, sonny Jim?"

I gulped, nodding my head rapidly. Josie was more horrified to see him
than I.
Plod gloated over this David and Goliath act. Never seen him tackle
anyone his own size. He shoved me off balance and towered over Josie.
"Brian around?"

She flummoxed. "He-he's - away, Eric." News to me.

Plod smirked. "Does the taxman know about his fiddle jobs,
Josie?"

So that's why Daniels is snooping around? Josie brazened it out,
adding sarcasm. "You never say no to free duck eggs, Eric."

Eric sniffed away his guilt and stooped over the bloodied water
barrel, beady eyes probing the floating blood. "Butchering fowls, Jose?
Thought you were skirmish about that?"

Me too! She started to explain, but the words wouldn't come. Plod and
me figured she was hiding something.

Josie, in a panic, suddenly grabbed my ear. "Is it him you've really
come about, Eric? Swimming in the reservoir again, eh, lad? Forever
chastising him, Eric, he's a wrong'n all right."

Daniels reserved judgement. "Investigating fowls reported missing from
one of the allotments."

Josie scuffed me. "Only this little sod for it, Eric."

Daniels pulled out a flashlight and contorted his bulk into the first
shed. Livid, Josie narrowed her eyes at me. Plod squirmed out
empty-handed. He squeezed into the second shed. Nothing.
Elementary.

Daniels threw back his shoulders and rocked on his heels. "Why's that
shed padlocked?"

"Always kept locked, Eric," she lied again. "Brian has key." Another
fib.

Daniels was about to force it open. I sprang into action. "No, siree
Bob." My puny body wedged between the Titan and the door. He scowled
ready to crush me like a flea. I stood my ground, shaking like a
feather. "Not without a search warrant, sir." I'd heard that on
radio.

Me standing up to bullyboy - wait till I tell me pals. Not to be
outdone by a spit of a lad, he tossed me aside. Josie intervened. "He's
right, Eric."

Now I was baffled. What's she up to? One minute accusing me, the next
defending me.

Eric eased off. "Right, I'll ring my boss to bring a warrant."

I outdid him again. "Courthouse's shut Saturdays."

At the end of his tether, plod pushed his face into mine. "Know all,
eh? Well, do you know you're my number one suspect, sonny Jim?"

He turned tail and stormed off. Josie rammed a bowl of corn into my
belly, knocking the wind out of me. "Well, don't stand there like tripe
- feed fowls."

I threw corn down, fowls pecking at my feet. Blood started to trickle
from underneath the pigsty door. Doesn't look like chicken blood,
either. Seen plenty when our Brian pulled chicken heads clean off. I
shot Josie a glance.
She'd set off for the cottage. I mentally examined the clues, as if I
was actually on the case... The locked pigsty, her actually bloodying
her hands killing chickens. Not forgetting her lying.

"Could be her blood," I surmised. Then rejected the thought. "No. Bled
to death, if she'd cut herself and lost that much."

Only way to find out is take a look inside. I made a beeline for the
pigsty door, but stopped. Josie has the key. Something had been
needling me. Then I twigged on.

"Usually lets mum know when Brian's off gallivanting," I said. "But
not this time. Why?" They were forever arguing. "What if she's done him
in to get even for knocking her about?" I froze. "What if he's in the
pigsty?" I gulped. "Maggots nibbling at his rotting flesh."
***

"Not trying to poison you, lad," said Josie, mopping up the gravy on
her plate. "Turned your nose up at everything I've cooked today."

"Not hungry." Aye, I know too much. Not giving her chance to bump off
the only witness"

"Well, lad, clear the table and wash pots up. And look sharp about it.
My brothers will be here at seven to shift some rubbish up at the
allotment."

Dumped like a sack of rubbish? Is that what she thought of a dear
husband who fought for his Country? If he'd died in action would have
got a military funeral with full honours, twenty-one gun salute. Union
Jack draped across his coffin. As sure as eggs are eggs. Good job me
mum's got us insured.
Then it hit me like a bazooka. Insurance money. The motive. Bet
scheming Josie took out a big insurance policy on our kid, as soon as
they started courting. And when the Germans failed to pop him off...
Bet her brothers are in cahoots with her. That's why they're coming
tonight to tie up the loose ends - me - and dump the bodies before PC
Daniels returns with a search warrant? Oh, if only I'd kept my big gob
shut about that?
A dark shadow darted by the kitchen window. Bang on seven. Worse, I'll
miss the final Private Eyes episode. I laughed at the rhyme. "Me, a
private eye, joining our kid in that great allotment in the sky."

The front door slowly creaked open. Gasped when a giant mass filled
the doorway. "Cooee, Josie, sorry to barge in like this." PC Daniels
the liberty taker apologises? Come for me no doubt, an accessory after
the fact. Withholding information. I had visions of me handcuffed,
dragged off to the local nick for aiding and abetting a felony.

"Found the missing fowls, love," he chirped. I heaved a sigh of
relief. "Down by the reservoir."

My relief was short lived. "The reservoir?" I shrieked. "It's deserted
at night..."

Wonders never cease - mirth from Plod. "Except for dem ol'
chickens?"

"...And a weighted down body sinking like a stone."

Another shock - Josie actually showing concern for me. "Poor lad's not
making sense today, Eric. Whatever it is, its put him off his
food."

"Aye, well, lads are always guilty of something, lass," said plod,
turning to leave.

I had to do something. Even turn copper's nark. I'm too young to die.
"PC Daniels..." What a time for my voice to break.

"That's a sure sign you're growing up, lad?" Plod ruffled my hair,
like a kitten playing with a ball of wool.

I snatched a key from a hook on the wall by the door. "Look - Josie
lied about the pigsty key."

He'd been made to look a fool twice today, but not a third time.
"Pointless now, lad."

"I saw blood."

"Blood?"

"Chicken blood, Eric, you saw it, too. Remember?"

"No, sir - human blood - she and her two brothers have done him
in."

"Done who in, lad?"

"Our kid - I'm next to shut me up."

Josie had a sort of goofy look. "Too much radio - brainwashed,
Eric."

I suddenly made a mad dash up to the allotment. Beating plod and Josie
by a mile. Fumbled with the padlock. Daniels barged up behind me, ready
to feel my collar. Slipped on the blood. Scrambled to his feet covered
in it. "What the...?"

The pigsty sprung open. He ploughed in. I followed. In the darkness,
something dangled from the rafters. I lit the lamps. Even mighty
Daniels almost puked at the horrific sight.

"Murderer," I screamed at Josie just entered.

Notepad out, plod licked the end of his pencil. Never seen it blunt.
He'll make sergeant after this cop. "Been busy eh, Josie?"

She brazened it out. "Don't worry, Eric. I'll see you all right, as
usual."

Bribe Daniels? That's a laugh. "Now, now Josie, anything you say may
be taken down, remember."

"Sorry to put you to all this trouble, Eric." Another fib.

"Too late for that, love," he growled. "You know food is still on
ration after the war."

He pointed up aloft. Hitler and Eva swayed to and fro, upside down,
throats cut. Blood drained into overflowing buckets to make black
pudding. (I used to love black pudding, but not now.)

"And, by law, when large animals are slaughtered privately, it's
compulsory to give half the carcass to the government to help feed the
starving nation.
The penalty is imprisonment or a fine - or both."

"But our kid's a war hero, sir."

Plod had no qualms in spoiling that illusion. "Hardly, sonny Jim.
Brian was dishonourably discharged from the army for siphoning petrol
from army vehicles and selling it on the black market. Seems he's
continuing a life of crime in civilian life. You knew, Josie. Surprised
you married him, Josie. A woman of your status."

Now the crocodile tears rolled. "Mummy was right. Blokes like Brian
never change. Never learn that crime doesn't pays."

Don't I know! Oh, I followed in our kid's footsteps all right. Well,
must sign off now, lights out. Hate it when that cell door slams
shut.

THE END