The Thorpeness Monster

Driving through Suffolk was a new experience for Teddy Rochester.

He’d read about “Constable country” of course. Back in the States he’d fingered through British holiday brochures, looking to combine his business trip to London with a spot of well-earned recreation in some cute little Brit backwater where time stood still. At little more than a hundred miles from London, Suffolk fitted the bill pretty well.
However his recreation time had turned out limited, his business dealing if profitable had been somewhat protracted on account of some hard-boiled advisers; now he was determined to get himself a slice of old-fashioned slow-motion country life.

Driving deep into Suffolk though, his difficulty was deciding on a suitable place in which to stop. He’d finally pulled up before a crossroad, dithering, which wasn’t a bit like him. He found he needed his “specs” to examine the tiny print on the top rung of the signpost and made a mental note of phoning in for an eyesight test on his arrival home.
 

Thorpeness, the sign said, two miles, pointing down a leafy two-lane road that abruptly diminished to one as it receded into the distance. Teddy was intrigued, for some illogical reason it conjured up visions of a sea monster, he’d read about it somewhere and shucks, two miles was no big deal when you’d driven coast to coast across the States.
So he took the quiet leafy lane, enjoying the warm wind rustling up from the coast which he supposed wasn’t too far away, and with the hood of his convertible lowered he felt it ruffling through the remains of his hair.
He passed Tudor type timber homes reminiscent of New England state; a windmill appeared and an extraordinary tower house rose up with its roof stretching towards the clouds, before he spotted a large lake in the village centre.
 

Something connected in his fast moving brain – a lake of course – yes, that was it – a lake with a monster – Nessie he’d heard it called, though nobody had ever spotted it for sure. Well this had to be it – what a story for his pals back home. He’d be a hero at his golf club. The Thorpeness Monster - discovered by no other than Teddy R. Rochester.
 

Teddy spotted the parking lot and drew in; he parked opposite the lake and then slinging his new Kodak digital over his shoulder took a deep breath, savouring the sweet aroma of a British summer afternoon. Well if this was rural Britain he liked it, he liked it a lot, positively charming, but how did they accommodate for living with a monster in their midst?
The lake was not large in the American sense, (in the States everything was huge) but it had its curious rustic appeal. He noted it was flanked by a large café-bar and gift shop, no doubt full of souvenirs of the Thorpeness monster; he’d check it out later.
 

Then his eyes widened, filling their sockets; he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, the home of the monster ringed by bobbing rowing boats – if there was ever proof that the Brits were crazy then this was it. Luckily no boats were out on the lake, there would be nobody to hamper his progress in discovering the monster.
 

Except that the kiosk was empty, its door hanging open. There was a marker board at the back and two strokes of a black felt tip pen were the only indication that boats had been out. Only the third boat out today he thought, typical of the Brits to fail to maximize one of their greatest assets. And just to compound his annoyance the attendant was engaged in idle gossip, he could see the guy now on a shore of the lake. Short fella in a checked peak cap, wearing spectacles, baggy trousers and trainers; hands in pockets, talking to tall woman in yellow tee shirt and shorts.
 

She looked a cracker, but right now he was hooked on nailing that monster and the lazy good for nothing boating attendant was thwarting him, cutting in to his precious time.
 

He sighed, rapped loudly on the open kiosk door although there was patently nobody inside – catching the guy’s attention was priority right now. What was it they said about British villages – that they were sleepy. You could sure say that again; even the swans seemed comatose – and with a monster in the lake, who’d believe it?’
 

Finally there was activity but it was the tall woman who invoked it. She actually dived into the lake and began ploughing through the water towards him. Teddy was appalled, ‘No – don’t do that…’ he shouted, ‘the monster…’
 

But either she wasn’t listening or couldn’t hear as she cut across with surprising speed to where he stood gesticulating wildly. She levered herself out and stood in front of him, water draining from her long dark hair, vest and trunks. She was tanned, broad and muscular – but she’d be no match for the monster.
‘You really shouldn’t be swimming in there like that,’ he remonstrated, ‘not with the monster…’
‘What monster?’ She frowned, gave him an odd look like he was from another planet, maybe it was his Yankee accent, ‘Do you want to hire a boat or not?’
‘Yeah, sure do. Listen dame, wave to that guy and get him over here, bad business approach that’s for sure. Sloppy, particularly when the monster’s…’
‘Now look, I’m the attendant, not him, I’d hardly have swam across now, would I?’ She had one of those posh British accents, ‘and what nonsense are you talking about, monster?’
‘Don’t play the dull dame with me lady – I may not be a Brit but I know all about the Thorpeness monster. I’ve read about it.’ Teddy felt his temperature rising like a high speed lift in a New York commerce block, what sort of idiot was she making him out to be?
‘Thorpeness monster eh?’ She said, her expression bland now, ‘Right.’

She placed her hands on hips, looked down on him from at least a four inch height advantage, ‘I think somebody’s been telling you porkies, either that or you’re a little off course…’
‘Don’t feed me any crap, please lady, ‘ now Teddy was irate, ‘just fix me up with a boat like you’re paid to do.’
‘Fine, if that’s what you want,’ the tall woman went inside, marked up a third notch on the board, then returned and with two powerful-looking arms stretched down to the padlock before releasing it.. She rose and held a hand out, ‘That’ll be two pounds please, for one hour as the sign says.’
 

Teddy fumbled in his pocket, forked out and she deposited the change before diving back into the lake. As she looked back she said, ‘ Have fun with your monster.’
 

The last thing Teddy saw was the tall woman raise herself back onto the lake’s perimeter walkway where she resumed her conversation with the small man.
 

The original Amazon Queen, he was thinking as his eyes locked on hers and she stared right into him; he didn’t see the dark, oily scaly thing that reared up and snatched him low into the Thorpeness waters.
 

The tall woman looked at the small man and shook her head, ‘Third one this week, they never learn do they? I’ll go and reel the boat in. You know what to do now.’
‘I sure do,’ the small man made his way to the kiosk, took the marker pen and added a broad black stroke to the two on the board.
‘Three up to the monster,’ he mumbled.