Short Story: The Pied Piper

Short Story

The Pied Piper

By Jackie Brewster

“Do me a favour,” Aunty June squeezed Claire’s hand after giving her a hug, “when your Uncle Derek comes back from the bar, don’t say a word about his jacket.” “Why?” Claire took off her coat and settled down next to her. “What about his jacket?” “You’ll know when you see it.” June lowered her voice. “It really is the most hideous garment you’ll ever lay eyes on.” Claire laughed. Uncle Derek was known by everyone as a keen ornithologist and not for his fashion choices. He was rarely seen sporting anything other than his anorak and binoculars. “Thanks for warning me,” Claire said. “Has he bought himself a new camouflage jacket?” “Quite the opposite.” June pulled a face. “It’s sort of a blouson-style bomber jacket and a patchwork of different coloured leather, like it’s been made from all the remnants at the bottom of the barrel. I call it Derek’s coat of many colours – though not to his face, mind you.” “Where did he get that from?” Claire pulled a face, unable to imagine her uncle in such a thing. “That’s why you’re not to mention it, he’ll just go on about how he haggled a poor chap down on a stall at the Sunday market,” she said. “He thinks it’s the bargain of the century, but I’m sure the bloke would have happily given it away just to see the back of it.” “And speaking of the back of it,” June continued, “that’s where the horrors really lie.” “What do you mean?” Claire was intrigued. “On the back, in diamante studs,” June checked over her shoulder to make sure Derek was not returning, “it says ‘Sparkle’, only some of the studs have fallen off so it actually says ‘Spurkie’. All his mates at the rambling club have started calling him Spurkie.” June shook her head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. “And he has no idea why.” “You’ve got to be kidding me?” Claire giggled. “I wish I was. I tried to give it to the charity shop, but they wouldn’t take it,” June whispered. “Rolled their eyes and said they didn’t have space on their ladieswear rack for it.” “Ladieswear?” Claire snorted. “Have you told Derek this?” “Course not!” June gasped. “Can you imagine the sulking? My life wouldn’t be worth living.” “Why is he so fond of it?” Claire couldn’t understand Uncle Derek’s sudden interest in garish fashion. Everyone knew he was only interested in the great outdoors, never the catwalks of Milan. June dropped her voice even lower. “What if I told you he said it was to attract the birds?” “Oh June, I had no idea!” Claire’s mouth fell open. “You and Derek have always seemed so happy together.” “Don’t be daft, it’s Derek we’re talking about!” June snorted. “Not women! I’m talking the feathered variety – magpies, jackdaws, jays.” “They are his favourite birds.” Claire nodded, still unable to make sense of it. “He says it attracts them, you know with all the diamante.” June grimaced. “They follow him about. He’s like the pied piper of crows. Quick, here he comes now…” She gave Claire her hardest stare. “Not a word.” Claire looked up as Uncle Derek, gaily adorned in his jacket, approached the table with a tray of drinks, and wondered how she was ever going to talk about anything else.