Meanwhile, on the ground floor at No.666 Great Junction
Street, Sylvester Rambling had slammed shut the letter
box of GF2 in fright upon hearing the loud crash of
Michael Cade's lamp on the street.
that a gunshot?' he asked.
mind about that,' said Seraphema. 'What did you see?
What did you see?'
saw nothing. But I heard more scuttling. Did you hear
heard no scuttling. All I heard was that glass smashing
stopped suddenly and, slightly quaking, pointed to
the door of GF2 where a small tendril was weaving
its way through the keyhole towards them.
Sylvester grabbed hold of the tentacle-like appendage
and tugged hard, balancing himself with one foot pressed
up against the wall. The tendril pulled back, yanking
Sylvester with it and thumping his body against the
held tight and tried to pull again. But this time
the tendril was ready for him, quickly jerked itself
loose from his grip and recoiled into the flat through
a moment, the two stood aghast, looking in turn at
the door and each other. Eventually, Seraphema broke
rare,' she said. 'Perhaps we should alert the authorities
now. Are you OK?'
looked down at his hands which were covered in a pale
yellowish ooze resembling runny custard. He wiped
his palms vigorously on his corduroy trousers.
said Seraphema. 'But maybe you shouldn't wash your
hands just yet so we can get this stuff analysed.'
looked at her in disbelief. 'Are you crazy, woman?
I could be infected by some horrendous lurgi or worse.
Who knows what vile spores could be coursing through
my veins this very minute? I feel quite queasy and
not a little woozy.'
his head jerked upward and swooshed from side to side
like a demented meerkat. 'Voices!' he cried. 'I hear
voices. And they're…they're…lisping.'
alarmed at Sylvester's sudden upswing in eccentric
movement, thought at first that she too had been infected
by his erratic delusions until she realised the voices
were coming from the street outside.
OK,' she said. 'I can hear them too. It sounds like
there is some kind of commotion going on outside.'
Outside?' repeated Sylvester. 'Here is where the commotion
is happening. If this is not a commotion, then I don't
know what is. My hands are yellow, my heart feels
weak…My god, I feel like I'm composing verse as we
leaned tentatively towards Sylvester and almost found
herself touching his tweed jacket in an automatically
compassionate response. She quickly realised the folly
of such a move, however, and swiftly withdrew.
meanwhile, had calmed somewhat upon realising that
the voices were not in his head but were in fact emanating
from a Leith policeman's megaphone. He and Seraphema
rushed to the front door leading on to the street
just in time to see Clint McMurdo and Michael Cade
being carted away.
week: The Leith Poleeth.