3
Deathsnore!

It took the breakdown truck over an hour to pull the car out of the hotel pond. Thankfully, apart from the car being rather wet not too much damage had been done. The car wouldn’t start of course, and had to be towed to the garage to be dried out. Meanwhile, the Ellises were still left with the problem of how to employ Sigurd.

Tim suggested that maybe Sigurd could carry guests’ bags up to their rooms, but Mrs Ellis was not so sure.

‘I think that half the problem is that Siggy doesn’t know how to talk to people normally. After all, he does come from the tenth century. It must be so difficult for him.’

Her husband gave a half-hearted smile and kissed his wife on the cheek. ‘You’re so forgiving. Sigurd does all these awful things and you forgive him.’

‘That’s because he’s locked in a time-warp. You’re not, Keith, and if you don’t get that hedge trimmed soon YOU certainly won’t be forgiven.’

‘Ah – well I’ve had a really good idea about that hedge,’ began Mr Ellis. ‘I am going to hand over the gardening to Sigurd. It’s ideal for him. A bit of grass cutting, some hedge trimming and so on – just the job.’

Mrs Ellis was doubtful. ‘You may be right Keith, but knowing Sigurd you probably aren’t. Give it a try anyway. He can’t be any worse at it than he was at cleaning the bedrooms. Goodness me – look at Mrs Tibblethwaite, she doesn’t look very happy. I wonder what’s up.’

Mrs Tibblethwaite was indeed very unhappy and quite unlike her usual self. She hurried over to Mrs Ellis. ‘I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know,’ was all she could say.

‘Please Mrs Tibblethwaite, do try and keep calm,’ said Mr Ellis. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’

‘I’ve just had this awful telephone call. I don’t know what to do. My sister, you remember, she came to the wedding – she lives in Scotland. Well, her next door neighbour has just telephoned to say she’s had a nasty fall. She’s been taken to hospital with goodness knows what broken.’ She turned her pale face towards Mr Ellis. ‘What am I to do?’

Mr Ellis took her hands and squeezed them gently. ‘You go and look after your sister, Mrs Tibblethwaite. She needs you. Go to the hospital and make sure she’s all right. Take as long as you wish.’

Mrs Tibblethwaite nodded gratefully. ‘But what about the…?’

‘The hotel will be fine,’ added Mrs Ellis.

‘I mean Sigurd,’ whispered Mrs Tibblethwaite. ‘What about my husband? He’s such a child!’

‘Leave him with us. He’ll only be in the way if you take him to Scotland. He’ll be fine with us,’ said Mrs Ellis, secretly crossing her fingers behind her back as she spoke.

‘Yes, we’ll look after him,’ said Tim. ‘He can teach me sword fighting with Nosepicker.’

‘Hmmm, very useful that will be!’ muttered Mr Ellis.

‘Oh thank you, thank you. I was hoping you’d offer to look after him,’ said Mrs Tibblethwaite. ‘I’ll go and pack straight away and catch the first train from Flotby,’ and with that she hurried upstairs.

Mrs Ellis watched her go.

‘Siggy will be fine with us,’ she repeated. ‘Oh dear, why did I say that?’

Sigurd was almost uncontrollable when he realised that his dearest Tibby was going away for a few days. He tugged at his beard and wailed to the sky. ‘Hear me Odin! Hear me Thor! Bring back Viking woman. I make you great sacrifice!’

‘She’s only going for a few days, Siggy,’ Zoe pointed out. ‘You’re such a fusspot. You can help look after the hotel instead.’

Sigurd stopped. He straightened up and whipped out Nosepicker and thrust it into the air. Unfortunately it stuck in the ceiling but it was still a grand gesture. ‘I am Sigurd the Viking,’ he bellowed. ‘I swear by all the gods that I will defend the hotel until the great day when Viking woman returns!’

It was a stirring speech, but quite meaningless, and when Sigurd yanked out Nosepicker from the ceiling and brought down half a ton of plaster, everyone wondered whether they really wanted him to defend the hotel anyway. Tim looked across at Zoe and rolled his eyes.

‘He’s a complete nutter,’ he whispered to her.

‘Takes one to know one,’ Zoe replied as she disappeared out of the room in search of a bucket to put the plaster in. Meanwhile, Mr Ellis took Sigurd outside to show him the high hedge that ran round the edge of the garden.

‘It needs a good trim, Siggy.’

‘Good trim?’ Siggy repeated, a little bewildered.

‘Yes. Look, this is a hedge trimmer. It’s electric.’ Mr Ellis switched it on. Sigurd leapt back drawing Nosepicker and waving it violently at Mr Ellis as if he expected there to be a major battle. Mr Ellis laughed and switched the trimmer off. ‘It’s not going to attack you Siggy. Watch. This is how you use it.’

Mr Ellis switched the trimmer back on and began to slice neatly through the hedge. Twigs and leaves fell on every side. Sigurd watched closely. He thought this was marvellous. Mr Ellis put the machine into his hands and helped Sigurd guide the trimmer over the hedge.

‘You see? It’s easy with a hedge trimmer. Now, I want you to do the whole hedge, right the way round. Okay?’

‘Okey-dokey boss.’

‘I do wish you wouldn’t say that,’ said Mr Ellis as he turned to walk back to the hotel. But just as he was about to step inside, he heard the roar of the hedge trimmer and felt a sudden uneasiness. ‘Do try and make a good job won’t you, Siggy?’ he said desperately.

‘I make good job,’ muttered Sigurd, as the hedge trimmer vibrated in his hands. Mr Ellis went into the hotel. He couldn’t spend all day worrying about Sigurd – he had some plastering work to do.

For several moments Sigurd just stood there, marvelling at the wonderful machine that Mr Ellis had so carelessly placed in his raving Viking hands. A murderous glint came into Siggy’s eyes and he looked wildly about the garden. The engine roared and Sigurd began to advance on the enemy.

Back in the hotel, the first person Mr Ellis saw was Mr Thripp. The thin little Health Inspector was back, complete with his tin-can voice. ‘Good day, Mr Ellis,’ he whined. ‘I hope it’s a good day for you?’

Mr Ellis managed a weak smile. ‘Fine thank you, Mr Thripp. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?’

‘I have come about your “Viking”. Not that he is a real Viking of course. I think it would be going too far to claim that.’ Mr Thripp looked up sharply, his weasel eyes fixed on Mr Ellis.

‘That’s really no concern of yours,’ replied Mr Ellis, trying to remain calm. ‘Anyway, what can I do for you?’

‘I have just come to make sure that this – “Viking” – is no longer a health hazard to your visitors, or I shall have to issue orders to close the hotel. I do hope he is no longer serving food?’

‘Of course not. He’s working in the garden,’ replied Mr Ellis.

Mr Thripp gave a sneaky smile. ‘You won’t mind if I check on that will you? It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just that…’

‘… you don’t believe me,’ finished Mr Ellis. ‘Follow me, Mr Thripp, and you will see that Sigurd is quite harmless.’

The two men walked out into the garden. They stopped. They stood still. There was no garden. From the far corner could still be heard the murderous whine of the hedge trimmer as Sigurd sliced through the last few flowers, bushes, shrubs, hedges – in fact anything that was more than a few centimetres tall.

Mr Ellis could barely speak. ‘What have you done?’ he croaked. Sigurd gave a broad smile and switched off the hedge trimmer.

‘I cut hedge like you show me! Zzzipp! Zzzapp! This better than Nosepicker. When Sigurd next go to war he take Deathsnore.’

‘Deathsnore?’ repeated Mr Ellis in a trance.

‘I call new weapon Deathsnore. It make noise like man snoring and bring death to everything – Deathsnore.’

Mr Ellis began to mutter to himself. ‘I’ve got a mad Viking in my garden who has just destroyed every bush and flower with a hedge trimmer called Deathsnore. What am I going to do?’ He was so overcome by the full-scale destruction of his garden that he didn’t notice Sigurd’s bulging eyes and purple face. The Viking had just seen Mr Thripp.

‘You kill my weeding!’ roared Sigurd. ‘Now I kill you!’ The hedge trimmer gnashed its teeth and Sigurd plunged after the Health Inspector. Mr Thripp gave a high scream and raced into the hotel, locking the door behind him.

‘I kill you!’ bellowed Sigurd. ‘You very little man. I make you littler. I cut you into pieces like salami!’

It took Mr Ellis ten minutes to calm Sigurd and get Deathsnore away from him, and a further hour to calm Mr Thripp. The thin Health Inspector was shaking from head to foot.

‘We shall see about this, Mr Ellis. I have never been threatened before and you needn’t think that you will get away with it. He was going to chop me up with a hedge trimmer. I’m going straight to the police. That maniac should be in jail, and so should you. This hotel is a disgrace. It’s not an hotel at all, it’s a madhouse. You should all be locked up. I’m going to the police now. This isn’t the last you’ve heard from Ernest Thripp. I shall be back, mark my words, and then there’ll be trouble…’

The delirious inspector ran off down the hotel steps, shaking his fist and screaming at the top of his voice.

Mr Ellis slumped into an armchair and buried his face in his hands. ‘If only this were just a bad dream,’ he said to himself.