The Lawnmower Man – Bentley 62

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[Old back story is here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and read more recent Bentley episodes especially this one.]

[Other back story through in-links.]

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There were birds in the cages. This always, or nearly always, worried Bentley. He thought birds should fly free, or as freely as might be possible. Large aviaries were OK but they were a bit close to the bone. He didn’t think the birds would be enjoying themselves, by and large. But then, he wondered, were birds capable of enjoyment as such?

Ten minutes after his arrival by the parakeets, Aston appeared. He was standing opposite Bentley on the other side of the cage. Looking through the wire fence, almost staring, but there was a small amount of friendship in his eyes to temper his gaze.

Bentley stayed put. Aston walked round the cage to him. The closer he came, the less he looked at him. When they stood side by side they were looking in opposite directions.

“Hot, isn’t it?” commented Aston.

“My cousin in Berlin drives a motor-mower,” said Bentley.

There was a pause.

“Sorry,” said Aston. “Did I not get the memo? I didn’t know we were speaking in code today?”

“And when the weather is hot,” continued Bentley, “he tries to fasten a sun shade type of umbrella to the back of his seat.”

“Oh, I see,” said Aston.

“But this only shades him in one direction. So during hot summers he gets his neighbours' livestock to eat the grass down.”

“And this is relevant because?”

“But he still needs the mower to show the animals where to go and where to start eating. This means the field is usually overgrown aside from one stripe of cut down grass. The piece he can do going in one direction - which is the path the animals take.”

Aston raised his eyebrows. “I’m glad you told me this,” he said. “I think.”

“Sometimes it’s better to stick to what you know,” said Bentley, as if this explained everything. “How have you been?” he asked.

Aston was a little miss-footed. “We didn’t come here for pleasantries,” he said. 

“Nevertheless,” said Bentley. “I’ve been thinking about you. And me. And I’m worried we haven’t cared enough about each other. On the whole.”

“I need to talk to you, seriously, about Shiela,” said Aston.

Bentley’s posture changed. He straightened to attention a little, breathed in sharply through his nose.

“Go on,” he said.

Bentley’s reaction even took Bentley by surprise. He knew he cared for his ex, perhaps more now than ever before, what with the illness that was pummelling around the country. What with the space between them, the gaps in their conversations and the absence of each other. The activities earlier in the year had reminded him of her temperament, her excitement and the reasons why he had fancied her in the first place, and in all the other places he’d fancied her too. And now, involuntarily, he found he actually cared.

“It appears she’s involved in this…. Case,” said Aston. “With the boy.”

“Oh yes?”

“I’ve been asked for a meeting,” he went on. 

“What? Who?” said Bentley, trying to keep up.

“They want to meet Sheila,” said Aston. “But I’ve already said no.”

“Who wants to meet Sheila? And why?”

“They say she told them to get rid of the kid.”

“You know the parents? You’ve found the parents?”

“Maybe,” said Aston. “I put a few feelers out, asked a few questions and this is what came back.”

He handed Bentley a photograph. It was Shiela, that was for sure, and a couple, perhaps a little younger than Shiela. Sheila was holding a baby. They were smiling at the camera.

“Who the hell..?” started Bentley. “And when..?”

“Fifteen years ago,” said Aston. “I believe you and Shiela had parted company by this point.”

Bentley shook his head. They’d been apart for sometime at this point. Lawrence a grown man and heading out to create his own brand of chaos in the world. So what was Shiela doing with a baby and…

“I can’t even begin to understand where this photo came from,” said Bentley. “Or what it means.”

“So we meet them,” said Aston. “Don’t we.”

“Not really a question, that, is it?” asked Bentley.

Aston shook his head.

“We can’t keep going over the same ground,” said Bentley. “My cousin on his motor-mower. He covers the same ground every day but he has his animals to go off in new directions. To find stuff out. To keep things down.”

“What’s your point, Bentley?” Asked Aston, wearily.

“We all need friends,” said Bentley. “Or we need help. People who want to help us. Who can do stuff we can’t so we can cover more ground. Otherwise we just keep doing the same thing over and over. And I’m too tired to keep doing that.”

Aston smiled. “I understand,” he said.

“Where do we meet them?” asked Bentley.

“Berkhamsted,” said Aston.