Page 66 of A Cosy Christmas with the Village Vet

The taller of the men had doubled-back and was now running in Nick’s direction, his hood pulled low. Nick lunged for him, but the thug dodged his grasp, and Nick fell hard against a garden wall, a bolt of pain shooting up his arm. Ignoring it, he headed straight after the criminal who glanced over his shoulder, an arrogant smirk on his face. It was short lived as he turned back to see Ollie racing towards him.

In the next moment, the thug made a sideways leap through the open gate of Damson Cottage, almost losing his footing as he did so. He righted himself and ran down the path, hurtling by Big Mary who, thinking quickly, stuck out her foot and tripped him up. Scrambling to his feet, he went to run round the back of the cottage where Gerald appeared, his arms outstretched like a goalkeeper. ‘Come on then, lad. Not so clever now, are you?’ Gerald gave a gummy cackle.

By now, Nick and Ollie were gaining pace. The thug stopped for a second, his hands on his thighs as he gasped for breath, furtively looking around him. He cursed Gerald who was swaying from side-to-side, his long, shocking-pink beard blowing in the breeze.

In the next moment, Nick and Ollie flew into the garden. The black-clad man made a dash for it but he wasn’t fast enough and they tackled him to the ground. He landed face down in the snow, Nick and Ollie on top of him. ‘Gotcha,’ said Nick, his breathing ragged. The thug snorted, and proceeded to kick out, yelling abuse and doing all he could to free himself from the two men. Nick increased his grip; there was no way he was going to let this ape get away and cause any more heartache.

‘Ger off me! Ger off me!’ the youth shouted.

‘I don’t think so, mate,’ said Ollie, his breathing heavy as he lay across the thug’s legs to stop them kicking about.

Gerald rushed over, waving what Nick could swear was a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs. ‘Here, these are our Mary’s but she won’t mind me using them for this, it being an emergency and all; it’d be doing a service for the local communit— Warghh!’ He lost his footing and slipped, landing unceremoniously on his backside in the snow, the fluffy handcuffs going flying. ‘Ow! Arghh! Ouch, me arse! Me arse! I can’t believe it! Me bloody teeth have bitten a chunk out of me arse!’

Nick blinked the snow from his eyes; surely he couldn’t have heard right?

‘Gerry! Gerry! Oh, heavens above! Are you okay, pet? You know you’ve got to go canny with that dodgy ticker of yours.’ Big Mary went rushing over to him, almost losing her footing in the slippery conditions.

‘Mary, pet, I need you to go in my pocket and get my teeth out. The bloody things have taken a bite out of me arse.’ Gerald was wincing in pain.

‘Gerry man, I keep telling you not to keep your teeth in your pocket. They’re no use to you there; they should be in your gob. Will you never learn?’ she said, shaking her head.

Nick caught Ollie’s eye and gave him a puzzled frown. Ollie shook his head in response. ‘Best not to ask.’

Nick could only imagine the explanation.

‘This village is full of lunatics! Ger off! I wanna get out of ’ere. I’m innocent. I haven’t done owt wrong. Me dad made me do it. I said I didn’t wanna, but he made me.’ The thug attempted to kick his legs free once more but Nick pushed himself down.

Moments later, PC Snaith and the other officer appeared, swiftly taking over the situation. Nick and Ollie got to their feet as the handcuffed thug was led away to the police van, objecting vociferously. PC Snaith thanked them for their assistance. ‘Couldn’t have done it without you,’ he said, adding before he left, ‘I’ll let you know how we get on.’

Meanwhile, after a rummage in Gerald’s trouser pocket, Mary fished out his false teeth. She gave a groan of dismay. ‘Ah, pet, the top set’s cracked right down the middle. Look.’ She showed her husband his damaged dentures.

‘Bugger!’ he said as she helped him to his feet with the assistance of Nick and Ollie. ‘They were good teeth, them.’ He rubbed his injured bottom.

‘Don’t worry, pet, I’ve got some good glue that should have them right in no time. Now the excitement’s over and done with, let’s get you inside where it’s warm and I can take a look, see what damage your gnashers have done to your bum.’ She gave a good-humoured roll of her eyes as she guided him past Nick and Ollie.

Nick caught Ollie’s eye, the two men fighting hard not to laugh.

With the snow swirling around them, they made their way to where people had congregated near the van. Jimby was talking to Camm and when they drew closer, Nick saw Jimby had a bloodied nose and an impressive bruise blooming below his left eye.

‘Bloody hell, mate, what’s happened?’ Ollie rested his hand on Jimby’s shoulder.

‘Are you okay?’ asked Nick, thinking he and Ollie had got off lightly.

‘You should see the other fella,’ said Jimby.

‘The other one from the van?’

Jimby shook his head. ‘No, not him.’

‘Oh?’ Nick looked at him askance before turning to Camm for enlightenment.

‘He had a fight with a snowman,’ Camm said with a chuckle.

‘A fight with a snowman?’ asked Ollie, amusement shining in his eyes. ‘Only Jimby could have a fight with a snowman.’

Nick turned to where the family of snowmen were standing to see the one with the feather boa looking slightly worse for wear.

‘Aye, well, maybe not a fight as such, but I ended up running into one when I was chasing that scumbag dog thief. It’s the one with the daft feathery thing round its neck.’

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