6pm

“Kindly repeat that, Ian Devine” I requested, unable to believe what he appeared to have said.

“I am being besieged by Balsdeep the Balti Badger” he repeated. I confess that I did, at this point in the conversation, do something I thought was only done in low situation comedies. I removed the telephone from my ear and waggled a finger in it to remove any waxy build up. I then resumed my conversational position and asked a pertinent question.

“Balsdeep the Balti Badger?”

“Yes – he was handing out savoury snacks in the buffet car when I arrived.”

“You should’ve made good your escape.”

“That was the first thing that occurred to me. I was dimly aware, between thoughts of his delicious savouries, of having sat on him and licked his fur – a surprisingly pleasant 85% polyester mix with just a hint of cotton and a definite flavour of nylon.”

“What happened next?”

“I was edging myself out of the buffet car when I became distracted.”

“Distracted?”

“By his savouries. I was weak, Dennis Brent, I know that now. But I thought he might not recognise me. He probably gets sat on by dozens of people in his line of work.”

“So you approached him for some free snacks?”

“I did. Oh, curse this voracious appetite. Woe is me.”

“And what did he say?”

“He seemed keen for me to accept retaliation for the earlier incident. He tossed his plate of savouries onto the floor and leapt at me. Luckily I am surprisingly dextrous for such a big boned gentleman and I was able to move out of the way. He was somewhat hindered by his badger costume and I made full use of this.”

“By escaping into a toilet?”

“Yes.”

“The fact that this gentleman must earn his living by pretending to be a generous badger suggests he is not one of the world’s great intellects but I’ll wager he is clever enough to stand outside a lavatory.”

“I fear you are right. I can hear muttered threats even now.”

“Oh very well, Ian Devine, I shall pop round and rescue you.”

“You have a plan?”

“I have” I lied. “It’s a corker.”

“Tell me the details lest I inadvertently do something which hinders the plan’s success.”

“Ah, well, I doubt this is a secure line. Best not risk it, aye?”

“A wise course of action, Dennis Brent, I look forward to seeing you.”

Once I’d learned where the buffet car was it wasn’t difficult to know which lavatory held the incarcerated Ian Devine. For one thing it was the only lavatory with a six and a half foot tall badger standing outside it. At least, I knew nothing to contradict this so accepted it as a working hypothesis. I took the “Doctor Who” course of action and went through my pockets, sure that somewhere within there would be an answer. As soon as my hand touched the cold aluminium of my emergency speculum I knew I had a weapon I could use. It was a fine old example of the medical art and had got me threw a few tight squeezes in the past. I clutched it like a cudgel and worked myself up for a full frontal attack.

I filled my mind with nasty thoughts. About the boys at school who used to tie my shoelaces together and use me for their biology homework. I thought of the shop keeper who told the local press that the shortage of Vaseline throughout Firkinside was my fault and mine alone. I recalled the quiz night at the Elk and Bush when I was mocked for my answer to “Who started the Great Fire of London?” I remembered being locked in the boot of the car every time mother and father took Donald and I our for a family picnic. And how I wasn’t let out until we were home again. The petrol that father wasted carrying me must’ve run into tens of pounds over the course of my childhood. I thought about Mr Penistone and his evil reign as manager of my local bank. I thought of Mizz Clitlique and her job centre restart course. I literally had steam coming out of my ears (and elsewhere) as I prepared to attack the badger… I mean the man who was holding my colleague Ian Devine hostage.

“CREAG AN TUIRE” I shouted as I charged towards Balsdeep the Balti Badger. I doubt he understood it, being a prole, but it certainly got his attention. I raised my speculum for the all important first blow. Regrettably, the train must’ve lurched as I tripped over my feet and was propelled head first into Balsdeep’s lower abdomen. He doubled up in pain, with me trapped between his top and lower half as he became positively foetal, and sank to the floor.

“What was that?” asked someone in the buffet car.

“A man head butting a badger in the genitals” said another voice.

“Really? How peculiar.”

“I think it was Dennis Brent.”

“Ahhh.”

I was finding it hard to breathe while being smothered by Balsdeep so it was with some relief that I heard the toilet door unlock and Ian Devine poke an inquisitive head round the door.

“Is that you, Dennis Brent?” he asked.

“You were expecting someone else?” I said, showing remarkable wit for one with his head stuck in a badger.

“Would you like assistance?”

“If you would be so kind.”

Ian Devine, to his credit, unfolded Balsdeep and helped me to my feet.

“That was a very brave thing you did, Dennis Brent” he said.

“All in a days work, Ian Devine” I replied. We were complimenting each other and generally beaming like sensible gentlemen when we became aware that Balsdeep the Balti Badger was struggling to his feet. We turned around and saw him brandish my emergency speculum.