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The Con - Part 21

Started by otter, April 04, 2013, 07:47:19 PM

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otter

His inbox was almost full. One day away on the river and the world had almost ground to a halt in his absence, there was a lot of cutting and pasting to do to get all these answered. One however immediately however caught his attention. Nestled snugly between two E-confessions was one with a subject of "The Popes Rods"; 'Jesus, I hope he hasn't broken the sage blank already;' he murmured to himself as he clicked on the email. "Dear Father Brennan, Thanks for the heads up on the popes site. Best kit I ever purchased. See you Sunday at the competition. Jimmy E."; good God, Sunday, the plan, he grabbed his phone and rang Liam to arrange to meet at Lavelles that evening.

Father Brennan made no comment to Sean regarding the metamorphosis of the back room in Lavelles knowing that Sean was itching to hear his appraisal. As Sean arrived with his bottle of Ballygowan water; 'Nice weather we are having for this time of the year;' and so the conversation went for ten minutes, covering current affairs, the state of the economy and sport. Finally Sean could not contain himself; 'Well James, what do you think?'

Father Brennan looked him straight in the eye; 'What do I think about what Sean, I may be a priest with many skills but a physic I am certainly not, nor am I the possessor of a third eye. Sean shook his head; 'the decor Father, are you blind as well as stupid?

Liam just arrived and caught the tail end of the conversation and seeing Father Brennan wink in his direction he cottoned on fairly quickly. Sitting on the new bright leather stool he shuffled around on it for a few minutes, stood up and down a few times and then pushed it to one side and stood at the counter. 'Morning lads, a pint of your finest ale Sean if you have any;' Sean grunted and retreated to the main bar, returning moments later with a pint for Liam.

'Liam what do you think of the new decor? 'Liam feigning complete surprise, surveyed the room slowly, a new flat screen television hung on the back wall, the two new stools, new wooden floor and the walls had being painted in bright pink. The piece de resistance though was the new sign that hung over Father Brennan's head, in large bold red writing "NO SMOKING"; Sean's wife had been busy, stamping her authority and righting the years of wilful neglect; 'Sean, that will improve the ambience a thousand fold' he replied with a serious look etched across his face; he pointed at the No smoking sign; 'Shame though, the rest of it more resembles a nursery than a bar and if a man could bear to stay here more than ten minutes he would get piles sitting on those stools;'

Father Brennan knew Sean was about to explode and just needed a further gentle nudge; 'Sean any chance of a glass of milk and a packet of nappies'; he quickly hopped up of the stool just as Sean lost control and attempted to punch his lights out; When Sean finally calmed down and they praised his great work they came to the order of business.

'I spoke to the man at the trout farm. Sean, those trout will be arriving to-morrow, make sure the tank out back is ready for them. Put the aerator going this evening, we don't want them going belly up before Sunday. Liam, the competition starts at ten o'clock, you reckon Egan arrives at the car park about a half hour early so will you collect me at eight thirty.' Father Brennan opened the holy grail, his notebook. He double checked that all angles had been covered. All nodded that they understood the plan for Sunday and toasted their success with the three glasses of whiskey of unusual quality which Sean had poured for them. 'To revenge, May she be as sweet as this expensive malt'; Sean was as happy as a cow in clover.

Closing the door Father Brennan shouted back; 'Sean, Take down that sign before I return or Marites will hear a little bit more of your past then you might want shared with her. Sean growled and threw a beer mat at the shutting door; 'bloody priest.'

If anyone had spotted the two men, dressed in olive fly fishing jackets, olive waders and olive balaclavas crossing the fields early on a Sunday morning they would have had a difficult decision to make. Call the police or call for men in white coats with straight jackets. Father Brennan and Liam crouched low, hidden in the trees that ran along the back of Jimmy Egan's property. They had a clear view of the house and of the fish tanks at the back. Liam was in charge of the video camera and took a few practice clips which they replayed, ensuring that each was correctly date and time stamped. They had all the appearance of a couple of school kids about to rob an orchard, s******ing away, at the same time apprehensive that they would be caught.

When Emma Egan, attired in her finest nightdress opened the curtains on an upstairs window the camera was immediately raised. 'Put down that camera Liam, have some respect;' Father Brennan had a cramp in one leg, gasped for a cigarette and his bladder was ready to burst. 'Father, is there no man left in you. Priest or not, you cannot deny that she is a fine looking lady';

Hearing a noise from the back of the house, the pair of voyeurs stiffened as Jimmy Egan crossed towards the fish tanks. Liam lifted the camera and focussed on Jimmy, pressing the record button. Jimmy took a bucket from a storage area under the largest tank, climbed the ladder to the top and taking handfuls of pellets from the bucket he tossed them in. 'Pellets for pellet pigs. oink oink;' whispered the padre. Then Jimmy fed those in the smaller tank before disappearing around the back.

'Crap, where is he gone;' but in moments Jimmy re-appeared with a long handled landing net and secured a large trout from the smaller tank. They got a real good view of the trout when Jimmy lifted it out of the net before dispatching it with two blows from the handle. 'Five pounds, maybe five and a half;' whispered Father Brennan. They stopped recording after Jimmy placed the trout in the boot of his car and returned to the house.

Nine bells, Father Brennan texted Sean "Bring a six shooter. JPB"; they scurried back across the fields and were soon speeding down the road. Stopping at a petrol station they bought two breakfast rolls and drove to the car park where the anglers met before the competition. As Father Brennan scoffed back the last piece of sausage Jimmy Egan's Ferrari rolled into the car park; 'Here he comes said Liam, Jimmy "Pierce Brosnan" Egan. I cannot wait for the premier of his latest movie;' both howled uncontrollably.

Father Brennan strode over to the Ferrari; 'nice horse you have got there Jimmy. Looks like a good fishing day;' Jimmy shook hands; 'I do not know whether to fish the Bees or the Popes Nymphs, maybe one of each. What do you think Father?' Father Brennan laughed out loud; 'I have not a clue Jimmy, what could I tell an expert like yourself. I'm only here for a bit of fresh air. By the way, I robbed the poor box and bought another one of the Popes Rods, the French Nymph one. I read up a bit about it on a magazine and decided that I needed to get modern. If you see someone standing in the river with line and leader wrapped around their neck, it's likely to be me. Good luck Jimmy and if you catch a few extra you might slip one into my bag. If I blank Jesus himself might come back down and fire me for being useless;' Jimmy winked; 'Fish the bees and you will not blank. By the way, is that egg yolk running down the leg of your waders; Tight Lines Father.'

'Ten O'clock lads, off ye go !!!!'

To be continued

Ripple

Oh hes so crafty, good luck to Father Brennan.

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