Feature

Watching The Detectives

© LUCIA FOSTER-FOUND 2022 WWW.LUCIAFOSTERFOUND.COM

“You there?” Himself called from the study. “In the kitchen, cooking dinner and watching the detectives.” She replied. “Line of Duty?” she heard the interested tone in his voice; a bit of a fan, he had the complete box set. “Aussie Gold Hunters.” “Is that new? What’s the plot?” his curiosity piqued, he appeared in the doorway. “People in the Australian outback, metal detecting for nuggets of gold. Or, as they often call them, ‘little rippers’.” “Good grief.” He sounded horrified. “Out there with all those snakes, spiders and sun! And actually, they’re called ‘detectorists’, not ‘detectives’.” He paused and continued. “Um, do you like the programme? You know, them going out with their metal detectors and finding stuff?” He was watching her closely, keenly. She sensed an ambush. “You’ve bought one, haven’t you?” she surmised. Himself looked momentarily wrong footed, but countered with “I thought it might make a good birthday present.” “Who for? Not me, I hope,” remembering her disappointment when an uncle bought her an airfix glider kit for her twelfth birthday, then locked himself away all day making it. Before crashing it on its maiden flight. “No. It’s for me.” He admitted. “From the dogs.” He added, as something of an afterthought. The spaniels looked up at the mention of the word ‘dogs’ and thumped their tails on the floor. “They do look happy with their purchase and actually, I think it would be fun. But won’t we need permission to roam about randomly digging holes on people’s land.” Himself’s face lit up “Indeed – but not on some beaches! I thought we could do a little detecting when we take the dogs to the coast for a walk.” (More enthusiastic tail thumping.) So the following weekend found them at the sea side, where the detector did just what it said on the box. When it located something metallic in the sand, it beeped. And Himself did something similar. “*Beep* rubbish, *Beep* waste of effort” he muttered as he examined the bottle top/tent peg/battery he’d just laboriously dug up. Every so often, someone would approach and ask “Found any gold?” Himself would shake his head morosely and carry on, as they wished him luck. A sit on the sand and a coffee break, then the detecting reconvened with a 2p piece and a fishing weight. Until, finally.. “Good signal?” Himself’s body language told her that this one was different. He looked up with the light of fanaticism in his eyes, before they both dropped to their knees to dig. Spotting them, the spaniels returned from the surf. Determined to help, they stuck their snouts in the hole before shaking seawater in every direction. “Listen,” Himself wiped his glasses and paused in his shovelling. Failing to dodge a sandy canine kiss he whispered “if it’s something really valuable, we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves. You’ve seen how people watch us when we’re just digging up rubbish. If they see we’ve found gold, when we come back next time, we won’t be able to move for other detectorists!” He said dramatically. She looked furtively around, expecting an audience of onlookers. No-one was paying the slightest attention to them. “OK..” She’d been mentally choreographing her ‘gold dance’, but shelving that, she imagined hordes of people marching up and down the beach. Like lockdown, but with more digging. And disappointment.

“So, we need to act nonchalantly - and we ought to have a code.” He was smiling the smile that indicated his inner child had surfaced.

“If it’s a gold coin, we say ‘Jack Sparrow’. And if it’s a gold watch, we say ‘White Rabbit.”

Bonkers. She liked it. Joining in, her inner Tolkien surfaced “And if it’s a gold ring, we say ‘my precious’. And don’t forget that nuggets are ‘little rippers’.” The ring they eventually extracted from the deep, water and spaniel-nose-filled hole generated a moment of excitement and a passably creepy Gollum impersonation. Closer inspection revealed it was just gold plated non-precious metal. They sighed and kicked sand back into their excavations, consoled that they’d all had plenty of exercise and fresh air. Later, back at home, two tired dogs in their bed – their paws twitching in slumber, sand still clinging to their fur. “You there?” Himself called from the study. “In the kitchen, cooking dinner and watching the detectives.” She replied. “Aussie Gold Hunters?” she heard the interested tone in his voice and smiled. No, she thought, been there, done that. “Line of Duty...”