2: TIME DOESN’T STAND STILL IN MAIDSTONE.

‘Five grand!’ Mower said. ‘Five grand if it doesn’t appear, yet only one if it does? There’s some weird bollox going on here, but more likely you’re just talking it!’

‘Could I have a glass of water, matey?’ Kai replied matter of factly. ‘I’ve been traipsing around Maidstone for half an hour in this heat searching for a rear indicator bulb to kill time before meeting you.’

Glen was about to offer directions to the motor spares shop about a mile away but Kai’s cheeky grin signposted he had no intention of paying for the blinking thing.

‘Yes, but you stay right there,’ he instructed, pointing at the doorstep. He felt it was preferable to treat Diamonde as a potential thief rather than treat him to more of his possessions. A minute or so later he returned from the upstairs bathroom with the H20. Kai took it, provided a cursory nod of appreciation that managed to set his fringe loose again and took a sip, though hardly enough to justify his apparent dire need for it.

‘Glad you didn’t throw it over me, old bean,’ Kai announced. The wind was suddenly taken out of Glen’s sails.

‘What do you know about that?’ he demanded, but his fussilade was simply met with an enigmatic smile. Mower’s confidence had taken a bash. Surely, very few people would have seen the short paragraph in The Kent Courier tucked near the foot of page seven ten months earlier informing its readers that he had been given a two year suspended sentence for his misdemeanour, but evidently it hadn’t escaped the notice of this demon on his doorstep.

‘What’s that?’ Mower said in reaction to a noise emanating from the lounge before heading there to investigate.

‘I didn’t hear a bean, matey,’ Kai replied as he followed him as unrequested back-up.

‘Look,’ Glen gasped, ‘the clock, the clock on the mantelpiece has moved!’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m bloody sure. It’s never been over to the right. Who keeps a clock on the edge of a bloody mantelpiece?’

‘Maybe someone is trying to tell you that time is being played with,’ Diamonde declared with a calm assurance that was at odds with Glen’s pronounced state of alarm, then placing his hand upon his shoulder he continued. ‘You’ve had a day of weird occurrences. How about we have a beer,’ he suggested producing a can from the supermarket bag he carried,’ and I will gladly explain things?’

On an afternoon filled with strange phenomena the strangest phenomenon of all had just manifested: Kai Diamonde had bought Glen Mower something!