Warning! This story contains material of an adult nature and is intended for mature readers and for personal use only. No copyright infringement is intended.
CHAPTER 13
The 'Pilgrim's Retreat' was a quiet country pub, so quiet that Angelica and Mike were its only customers, at that time of the early evening. Her high-heels clicked on the tile floor, as they walked up to the shiny, wooden bar. Pewter tankards hung from a row of hooks above their heads and several traditional beer pumps along the bar, dispensed the various draft ales. "Good evening! A half of bitter, and..." Mike gave Angelica a questioning look.
"And a dry, white wine!" she finished for him, smiling at the ginger-haired, bespectacled barman, who was starring at her, goggle-eyed.
"We've only got sweet white, Miss!" replied the highly impressed barkeeper.
"Sweet then!"
When he returned with their drinks, Mike handed him a fiver. "Keep the change! By the way, we're looking for the Arnie Sidebottom place!" he volunteered. "You wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you, old chap?"
The barman pushed his wire-framed spectacles back on his nose, and scratched the back of his head! "There's some rich gent moved into 'The Grange', a year or so ago, but he don't have nothing to do with the rest of the folk 'round here! He could be the bloke you're looking for?"
"How does one get to this 'Grange'?" Mike asked, placing another matching note on the counter.
"Why thank you, Sir!" The barman grinned, as he picked up the money, and stuffed it into his hip pocket. "Go out of the front door, turn left, and about three hundred yards down the road, there's a narrow lane, leading off to your left. About a quarter mile down the lane, is a large mansion, set back in its own grounds, with a high wall around it. That's The Grange!"
Mike glanced at Angelica, his face alive with excitement, then he turned back to the barman. "Thanks a lot! I much appreciate it!"
They quickly downed their drinks, and said their hurried goodbyes, before rushing out to the hired Renault Clio, parked in the adjoining car park. Mike gunned the engine, and the small car shot away, with a loud screech of the tires. "This is our lucky day!" he chortled, as he turned left onto the main road through the village. "Hey, there's the turning!"
-oOo-
He pulled off the narrow lane, onto the grass verge, about twenty yards beyond a set of large, wrought-iron gates. "Wait here!" he hissed, giving her knee an affectionate squeeze. "I'm going to go check the place out!"
"Be careful, Mike!" she whispered, then on a sudden impulse, leant over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
"I will!" He grinned and slipped out of the car, and casually strolled back toward the gates.
Five minutes later, he was back. He slipped behind the wheel. "I think this might just be the place, babe!" he informed her, excitedly. "They've got remote controlled gates and security cameras, and there's some nasty-looking spikes on top of that wall!"
"So, what's the next move, Sherlock?" she asked, frowning.