PART FIVE: IN WHICH A NEW WAY OF LIFE CAUSES PROBLEMS...

“I know I've hurt you / And I wonder if you know / That I never really meant to / No, I never, never really meant to???”

From: "Turn Me Around!?" (C. Coltrane); Dusty Springfield, It Begins Again, 1978.


Meanwhile, back in the lift, Tula was starting to feel the effects of spending time with a man suffering from T.D. (or Terminal Dullness, to give it its full title). As she stood listening to the man's monotonously inane chatter, she experienced for the first time just how tough it was to be around such a person.

To all intents and purposes, she was now as much a victim as he was...

"It's a bit like the dullness is a loaded machine-gun and he's firing it point-blank range at me..." she mused to herself, perhaps a little over dramatically.

"Don't worry!" sighed the man, whose name Tula had just learned was Raymond Snood. "Don't worry - I know this whole Terminal Dullness thing sounds rather bad, but ultimately, it's only me that it will kill. You can't catch it off me, it isn't contagious or transferable or infectious..."

Tula smiled weakly; she really wasn't so sure. She didn't like to say so for fear of sounding rude, but if she had to spend much longer in the presence of this dull fellow, then she was either going to have to jam her fingers in her ears, or risk slipping into some kind of boredom-induced coma.

"I'm just worried about you Raymond," she lied, determined to get a dialogue started to avoid listening to his depressive soliloquy. "Are you going to be okay? You look very pale."

Raymond Snood looked at her, his eyes filled with nervous dread. "Really? You think I look pale? As white as a sheet, you say? Do you think so?"

"Err ... Maybe a little bit, yes... How do you feel?"

"I have a dull pain in my head and a dull ache in my spine - but otherwise I feel pretty normal. I'm rather used to dull pains in my head, just a dull continuous throb..."

Tula nodded, blankly. "Well, that's something, at least..." she replied, fumbling for interesting conversation to make. Raymond was wrong - Terminal Dullness most definitely WAS contagious, and it appeared to have begun impeding and desiccating her social skills already.

"Don't worry..." he smiled and then went back to looking at his feet - suddenly he sighed. "Oh, and before you ask, there's nothing you can do to help me..."

Tula smiled wanly and wondered to herself whether anyone on Earth could do anything to help such an unbelievably dull man. More to the point, it felt like she was the one in need of help. She'd tried so hard to reach the hospital as quickly as possible, only to find herself mired in this suffocatingly slow and boring lift, and now once again her thoughts turned to Horner. She needed to be strong and support Horner in his time of need.

Not that she'd even seen him in nearly four years...

To be perfectly honest she felt nervous about seeing him again, yet also excited, and felt like she'd grown a lot as a person since they last saw one another. More than anything, Tula wanted him to be impressed with her highly developed and individual fashion sense. She was wearing her favourite fake-fur giraffe-print cat suit, and had her hair up in a beehive style, so she hoped that she would look impressive as she strode confidently and assuredly into Horner's room.

Not that her outfit appeared to have had any effect on Raymond Snood - but she decided it would have been a miracle if anything had ever interested Snood. She hoped that Horner wouldn't be similarly under-impressed, but doubted he would be anything but complimentary, as she knew him to be such an energetic and encouraging person.

"You look fabulous!" she reassured herself.

What she hoped Horner didn't notice was the fact that, to be honest, she didn't smell quite so fabulous. The outfit hadn't actually been for Horner's benefit. The truth was that she'd been to a fancy dress party the previous evening, drinking strong black coffee all night. She was more of a cappuccino or latte girl, but they'd run out of milk, and by midnight they had run out of alcohol, which was when the coffee bingeing had begun. She must have had at least, seven large mugs full, and diluted only by perhaps two ginger beers, as a nod to an old friend who had turned up at the party wearing steam-driven stilts.

Anyway - the long and the short of it was that she'd danced until dawn, and then gone shopping on her way home. She'd then returned to her flat, found the message from Horner, and rushed out again in a bit of a panic.

So now, there in the lift, she reckoned she probably did whiff a bit; not that Snood seemed to have noticed...

"Why is this lift SO slow?" Tula exclaimed, almost losing her cool and hammering on the lift door with both fists. "Are you absolutely sure it's not stuck, Mr Snood?"

She looked across at him and was shocked to see that Raymond was now slumped on the floor of the lift, a crumpled ball of a man - all eight foot of him...

"We're nearly there," he assured her weakly, "perhaps the field mice are just a little tired this afternoon - I think they must have had a heavy night last night..."

"Field mice!" exclaimed Tula, who knew a little bit about mice, as it happened.

Snood nodded. "Yes - this lift is environmentally friendly - it isn't powered by electricity, but by a team of field mice strapped to a dynamo, who are occasionally poked with a corn on the cob soaked in chilli sauce."

Tula sighed and felt bad - even worse than she had earlier, in fact. "Environmentally friendly..." she muttered as the lift continued creeping on it's slow journey upward, "...but hardly mouse friendly..."

**

Meanwhile, back in the private room on Ward 7, Simon Yeti was the first to speak. To be perfectly honest, he was feeling a trifle confused - there he'd been, expecting to meet some rough tough brute of a man, only to find that this supposed thug now looked like he'd just walked off the pages of a fashion magazine. All sorts of questions were racing through the yeti's mind - he was a beast of the world and indeed no prude - he just wanted to feel that he understood what was going on. At first he'd thought that perhaps Horner had needed such complete reconstructive surgery after his accident, that the surgeons hadn't been sure if he'd originally been a man or a woman. Then he remembered what Katrina had earlier mentioned about Horner being an amphibian who regularly changed his appearance when he shed his scales.

"Well now!" he said unsurely. "You could almost be sisters!"

No matter how estranged they were, it wasn't the sort of thing a man and wife wanted to hear, and both Horner and Katrina shot him disapproving looks. "Hmm, okay. Sorry! I think I'll let you two talk..." said Simon apologetically, letting out an embarrassed growl as he backed away and out of the room, without even a furry wave of goodbye.

Once the door had slammed behind Simon; there was a long silence. Katrina noticed that Horner was looking extremely flushed, and supposed that this was because his body was getting used to its new form. She had helped her husband through many Skin-Times over the years - but she had no intention of showing him any sympathy now.

In all the years they had been together, Drew Horner had never once shed his scales and become a woman...

"So..." smiled Horner, though he was suddenly looking quite weak and had sat himself down on the bed to rest. "How do I look? Do you like the new me?"

Katrina frowned. "I don't know why you even ask. You're a beautiful woman, husband, which is fine if you want to woo yourself a nice new boyfriend or sell toothpaste, but I know you, Horner. As far as I know, you certainly never had any career aspirations of that kind..."

Horner smiled, pushing back his newly grown hair so that he didn't lie on it as he eased into a more comfortable position on the bed. "You might be right," he agreed, "but who knows where my future lies from here on! I mean, a few hours ago, you'd put a curse on me, and I thought that I'd be dead by now. Tell me Katrina," he added, part accusingly, part sorrowfully, "why was it that you wanted to kill me, again? Had I done anything specifically wrong, or had you just grown tired of me?"

Katrina merely laughed at this, turning to the mirror to admire her nose wart. "If you've called the police, Horner, you shouldn't have - I'll only turn them all into frogs..."

"How original..."

"Okay - antelopes then - green antelopes with pink polka-dot swim-suits" she decided. "And yellow tights!"

"That's all very well - although not especially comfortable for the antelopes. Anyway, it's also ultimately unnecessary, Katrina, as I haven't called the police - and have no intention of doing so, either! Because," he sighed and smiled a smile that made him look even more beautiful, "because - well, I'd have thought it was pretty obvious. Because, Katrina, I still have feelings for you, that's why!!"

**

Meanwhile, out in the corridor, Simon Yeti was still fuming. "You should just go home, dear boy..." he told himself crossly, but knew that he couldn't. "I can't just walk out and leave Katrina!!" he told himself, although he was rapidly beginning to wish that he hadn't become involved with either of them - they both seemed very bizarre if he was honest about it.

It was as he stood near the lifts in the entrance to Floor 2 that the doors suddenly opened, and a very distressed woman came hurrying out. "Help! Help!" she cried. "A man has collapsed, someone come quick, he needs help!!"

The woman looked very flustered and the tall man crumpled up on the floor of the lift looked quite worse for wear, but much to Simon's relief he saw that the hospital staff were doing their job and coming to his rescue.

"What a very odd experience - we'd been in that weird lift for almost an hour," the lady muttered, apparently directing her conversation at Simon, "and then the man collapsed! Apparently the lifts are run by field mice...!"

"Good gracious, dear - really!" exclaimed Simon.

"Well, not all of them - but this one was..." the lady continued, as they watched Mr Snood being wheeled away to be given whatever attention he required.

"I suppose I should let you go with him, Miss...?"

"Swiss - Tula Swiss!" Tula replied, shaking his paw, before adding; "I wasn't actually WITH him - I've actually come to see someone else, Mr...?"

"Yeti... Simon Yeti..."

"Really!? I believe I've definitely heard of you!"

"Maybe we have mutual friends, who are you visiting?"

"A man named Drew Horner, he's in Ward 7..."

"Room B?"

"Oh, why yes!" exclaimed Tula. "Do you know him?"

"Kinda..." replied Simon awkwardly. "My next door neighbour and he are married... or divorced... or both... or something! I'm quite confused about the whole set-up, to be perfectly honest! But how, dear lady, do you happen to know such very peculiar people?"

Tula sighed. "That," she began, laughing gently, "is a very long story! Are you sure you really want to hear it?"

Simon Yeti growled earnestly and nodded. "You know, dear lady - I really think I might!"

**

Horner was feeling odd again. Really, it was quite inconvenient feeling as dizzy as he did, especially just as he was trying to appeal to Katrina's better nature. He had absolutely no idea why he still had feelings for her after all she'd done to him recently, and he certainly didn't know why he'd admitted to the fact! Katrina had seemed quite touched when he'd spoken of his enduring affections - at least she'd seemed to, but then suddenly the witch had risen her head and let out a long loud laugh.

"Oh dear!" she'd replied. "That's all very well! But you're a woman now! I'm very sorry to break it to you, Horner darling, but I'm simply not into blonde bombshells!"

Horner had to concede this point; he knew that Katrina's taste in men didn't extend to voluptuous blonde females. However - her reaction had shocked him into considering whether he really wanted to put himself through begging to have her back. Katrina Hortensia was a devious and dangerous tyrant, who had taken it upon herself to attempt to murder him on a number of occasions. It was hardly what you'd call a secure relationship.

"Horner, you have the worst case of self-delusion I've ever known!" he told himself. So far he'd chosen to turn a blind eye to the situation, but in his heart of hearts he knew that she'd been having affairs behind his back with all manner of wizards, goblins and sprites.

In fact, thinking back, he couldn't even remember where they stood on this matter of being married or not. They'd been wed, divorced and separated so many times that he'd lost count. The last time they'd tried to get their relationship blessed, one of Katrina's aunts (who was a phoenix) had set the registry office up in flames; she was mocked mercilessly for being so careless, but she'd managed to rise above it. Even after their last split, they'd still continued to date occasionally, and even this week Horner had been keen to reconcile the relationship...

All the while, she had just wanted him dead...

As he lay in his bed, feeling quite worse for wear, Katrina had gone to get him something to drink, and after a minute or two over by the sink, she came hurrying back with an expression of genuine concern on her face and a large tumbler full of water.

"Shall I call the Sister?" she asked. "You almost stopped breathing then for a moment - your pretty face went quite blue! Here, drink this." Katrina held the glass to Horner's lips, and he was just about to take a grateful sip when he began to feel extremely paranoid.

Was that the scent of bitter almonds?

Suddenly his suspicions seemed to generate a rush of strength. In a flash, Horner was up on his feet, and had Katrina pushed against the door. He was amazed and proud at how quickly his previous strength had returned even in his new female form. "What have you done? Poisoned my water, Katrina? I can smell the cyanide... Are you trying to kill me, again?"

"Of course not! I wouldn't! I'm just worried for you!"

"I don't believe you - drink it yourself," Horner demanded - pressing the half spilt glass of water to Katrina's lips; "You drink it - let's see if it's poisoned or not!" Katrina shook her head and tried to turn away from the glass, but Horner - so dainty in appearance - was far stronger than she was. "Drink it, Katrina," Horner insisted, forcing the glass into her mouth, "DRINK IT OR I'LL BREAK YOUR FILTHY NECK...!"

Will Katrina be forced to drink the water? Is it even really poisoned? What will become of Raymond Snood? Has Tula made a new ally in Simon Yeti or will Simon remain loyal to Katrina?

Find out in the next fur-flying episode of Dusty Acres - an everyday story of wicked folk with furious temperaments...

Mood music for this episode: "Turn Me Around!?" Dusty Springfield, It Begins Again, 1978.

PART FOUR: IN WHICH HORNER GETS A GREAT NEW LOOK...

“You can bait me, fake me / But I keep on comin' at ya / Just break me, shake me / I ain't movin' backwards / Shake me, take me, yeah I keep goin' 'til I hold you in checkmate once more…”

From: "Checkmate..." (N Hendryx); Dusty Springfield, It Begins Again, 1978.


Horner opened his eyes and instinctively knew it; Skin-Time was finally over and done with. He had shed his skin and was now once more in human form! No more scratchy scales like autumn leaves – just fresh pink skin…

A new Horner…

He stretched his hands; flexed his arms, wriggled his toes. He’d expected things to feel different this time; expected some trouble. Expected to be some half human/half amphibian mutant hybrid – but no – he felt fine and healthy… Except…

There was no-one in the room – nobody was close by, it appeared. Slowly Horner sat up straight and dangled his legs over the side of the bed. His legs hung down and dangled just short of the floor; his modesty draped in a loose-fitting hospital gown.

He was shorter than he had been…

“Looks like I’m going to have to wear stilts…,” he teased himself, “although that’ll be no use if I’m being pursued by mad witches – I’ll never get away!”

It was only as he let his gown slip to the floor in a sudden urge to see quite what his finished appearance was, that he fully understood what had happened to him…

“Well this is different…!” he murmured to himself, shocked at first, but gradually getting used to his new form. “Wait until Katrina sees this!” he chuckled.

**

Meanwhile, down at the hospital reception, Katrina and Simon had arrived, and were trying to find out where Horner was ensconced. They were not, however, having much luck – in fact, they were meeting with active objections from the hospital staff.

The lady on the desk was an old woman by the name of Mavis, and she was assisted by an equally elderly lady called Edie. “They must be at least 120 years old each!” growled Simon as they stood at the desk and waited to be served.

Katrina raised an eyebrow. “Older, possibly!” she observed. “I’m 137 and I don’t look half as addled as these two do!”

Simon frowned. He wasn’t so sure. “Are you sure you’re only 137, Katrina?” he asked. “You look at least twice that age!”

It wasn’t exactly a very flattering thing to say to a lady; but for Katrina, to be considered ugly was quite definitely a compliment, and she smiled inwardly. Just then, Edie the desk receptionist came across to them carrying a clipboard. “Sorry dears!” she croaked, with a certain relish that suggested that she was anything but sorry, “I’m afraid Mr. Horner isn’t allowed to receive visitors at the moment….”

“Why ever not?” Simon exclaimed crossly and added a disapproving growl for good measure.

“Somebody has been trying to kill him, that’s why, dear,” the lady named Mavis replied curtly, turning from her filing work and eyeing them suspiciously.

Katrina looked as if she was about to cast a spell on the two women, but Simon held her back. “Well yes! We’re painfully aware that someone has committed this appalling crime, dear lady, and that’s why we’re here – to ensure our friend is okay!”

Edie put her clipboard back beneath the counter and sat down next to her co-worker. “Well sir, I’m not sure who you are – but the thing is…”

Mavis took over at this point. “The thing is that your companion here exactly meets the description of the lady who has been trying to kill the patient…”

Simon visibly did a double take at hearing this. “Katrina, is this true dear – or do you have an identical, evil twin!?” he whispered, suddenly wondering if he actually had the full story.

“I did have a sister once…” she replied, “but not anymore.” This didn’t really help answer his question, but she refused to elaborate further, and merely scowled a terrible scowl that put the yeti right in his place.

“Sorry…” he mouthed, and then stepped forward to the reception desk again. “My dear ladies, I’m quite sorry, I realise we’re causing you an inconvenience,” he apologized. “We’ll come back another time”.

“Don’t bother!” snapped back Mavis, “Not unless you come back without her!” she added, before returning to her filing.

“Quite! Now would you kindly leave!” said Edie, giving a curt little smile and wandering off in search of a cup of tea.

Much to Simon’s amusement, the expression on Katrina’s face had turned from a scowl to a look of fuming rage – but before the witch could say anything, the handsome yeti had raised a claw to his lips to urge her to be quiet.

“Wait…” he advised quietly, guiding her away from the desk so that it appeared that they had given in. Once the women had returned to going about their business, however, he bid Katrina to stand by the candy machine and remain quiet whilst he tiptoed back to the desk – quite a feat in itself for a yeti of his size. Katrina watched with dawning pride as the great shaggy beast simply cast a long furry arm over the reception desk and reached beneath the counter. He quickly picked up the clipboard Edie had looked at, which held the hospital’s confidential patient list. Speedily he flipped through the pages, and then smiled, replaced the clipboard, and tiptoed silently back to Katrina.

“Drew Horner – Floor 2, Ward 7, Room B!” he chuckled. “There you go, dear – easy when you know how!!”

“Oh Simon!” cackled Katrina, rather at a loss for words as she took his furry arm and led him towards the lift. “Floor 2, you say?” she smiled, and pressed the button. “Shall we go!?”

**

It was literally only a couple of minutes later that Tula reached the hospital. She’d been surprised how quickly she’d made it there; knowing the roads were horribly congested at that time of day, she’d opted to try hitching a ride on a passing badger. The journey had actually been surprisingly smooth, and she’d never before realised that badgers gave such good piggybacks, let alone could run so fast! She entered the hospital nervously, slightly uncertain what the protocol for such a visit was. However, once she reached reception, she found much to her surprise that she recognized the two old ladies behind the desk as being friends of her Aunt Fatima.

“Mavis! Edie! I didn’t know you two worked here…”

“Ah yes, Tula dear!” beamed Edie, pleasantly surprised to see her. “Well – only two afternoons a week. We’re here undercover, it’s all very hush-hush!” she continued, causing Mavis to raise a finger to silence her indiscreet friend. Still, Tula got the message and didn’t need to probe the issue further – she knew that the two ladies had long been involved in all sorts of Top Secret Government work.

“Here to see Horner, are you, dear?” enquired Mavis, pushing across a piece of paper with his whereabouts transcribed on it in invisible ink. “We have to be careful; certain undesirables are after these details. We’re only able to pass it over to people we know can be trusted – and even then, only in a covert manner! You’ll need to hold the paper up to the light!” she added, seeing Tula scrutinising the blank page with a perplexed look.

“Undesirables…?” enquired Tula nervously, concerned at the thought that there could be another attempt on Horner’s life.

“You’re lucky we don’t blindfold you!” Edie interrupted.

Tula nodded, feeling a little confused, but she thanked the ladies and hurried towards the lift; holding the paper up to one of the fluorescent strips as she waited for the lift to arrive; Floor 2, Ward 7, Room B…

Once in the lift, Tula soon wished that she had simply taken the stairs. Not only was the lift incredibly slow, but the only other passenger was also incredibly strange. For a start, he was almost eight foot tall and as skinny as a runner bean. He wore an outfit that could best be described as being a cross between the clothes of a Viking and a cheerleader – topped off by the sort of hat a bishop might wear, which added another foot to his height. The hat looked even more preposterous as it was badly squashed, the lift being only about eight and a half feet tall.

Tula tried not to make eye contact. She was definitely not in the mood for conversation. However, after five minutes had passed, in which time they still hadn’t managed to reach the 2nd floor, she decided that she really had to ask a question of the man.

“Excuse me…” she began nervously. “Do you know if the list is usually this slow, or do you think it’s stuck?”

The absurdly tall man looked up from where he had apparently been admiring his toenails. “It’s always as slow as this…” he replied, in a tone of voice that can be best be described as funereal. “You caught the slow lift…,” he added. “There’s a slow lift and a fast lift, and you happened to catch the slow one…” he continued matter-of-factly. “I mean, I personally always get the slow lift…,” he continued slowly, “because I like to take my time…”

Tula nodded politely. “I see…” she sighed and then asked. “Are you visiting someone here?”

The dull-sounding man shook his head and began picking his nose rather too earnestly for Tula’s liking. “Oh, no…” he replied, “I’m a patient,” he explained. “They let me wander about ‘cos it does me good – but the doctor has told me to take things slowly, which is why I always take the slow lift. The doctor said that even the slightest bit of fast or exciting living might well kill me…,” he said, breaking off from his dirge to nod thoughtfully at Tula. “Between you and me, I’m a very sick man. I have been diagnosed with terminal dullness,” he said, with the slightest hint of a proud flourish in his tone, “and that, I’m afraid – although not contagious and in no way dangerous to you – might very soon be the death of me, I fear!”

**

Meanwhile, up on Floor 2 – having caught the fast lift – Katrina and Simon had managed to find their way to Ward 7, Room B with very little trouble at all.

"Listen Simon…” began Katrina, once they had found their way to the door marked D. HORNER, “I’m so grateful to you for coming all this way with me – but if you want to leave me here then I will quite understand… You’ve done quite enough to help me as it is; we can catch up when I get back to my flat?”

Simon gave her a look that suggested he thought her to be undoubtedly pretty mad. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear lady!” he replied curtly, “I didn’t come all this way to see you walk into the lion’s den on your own! Now knock on the door and announce our presence before you have second thoughts!” he demanded.

Katrina sighed – strangely enough, she was feeling a little nervous at this point. She hadn’t really planned quite what she was going to do next, and was a little frozen by indecision.

Simon knocked on the door for her…

Silence.

Simon knocked again and this time they received a reply:

“Come in!”

Simon stood back, indicating that Katrina should go in first, which after a moment’s pause she did, turning the handle and allowing the door to swing wide open.

“Oh… I’m sorry…,” she gasped. The words, quite unfamiliar to a habitually rude witch such as Katrina, slipped from her lips almost automatically. She had stepped into the room only to find herself facing a rather ravishing blonde woman wearing a seductive smile and exposing her quite hypnotic bosoms beneath a loosely wrapped pale pink dressing gown. “I’m sorry,” she repeated, taking an embarrassed step backward, “we must have the wrong room…”

Katrina was turning to leave, pushing Simon out with her, when the woman laughed. “Where are you going, Katrina!?” she called. “How lovely it is to see you here! But, I suppose it’s only right you should come and check up on me, since it was you who put me here in the first place! I’m sorry to disappoint you, but as you’ll see, I’m still very much alive!”

Simon could see the blood draining from Katrina’s face as she turned back to the blonde woman, her mouth gaping. “HORNER!” she gasped. “HORNER, IS THAT YOU!?”

The woman smiled and pouted her lips. “Yes, darling,” she replied playfully, “it’s me! How d’you like the new look?”

How will Katrina cope with the fact that Horner is now a luscious lovely? Will Simon ask for beauty tips? Can Tula escape from a fate worse than boredom or will she be trapped in the lift forever?

Find out in the next thigh-slapping instalment of Dusty Acres – an everyday story of weirdoes, loonies and other animals…

Mood music for this episode: "Checkmate..." Dusty Springfield, It Begins Again, 1978.

PART THREE: IN WHICH OLD AND NEW FRIENDS GIVE SUPPORT...

>“Don’t call it love / Heavens above / We got a better thing! / Don’t call it love / That ain’t enough / Just tell them you’re my everything!”

From: "Don’t Call It Love..." (Tom Snow / Dean Pitchfield); Dusty Springfield, White Heat, 1982.

Dr Fish frowned. “You’re one of those mind reading frogs now, aren’t you!?” he exclaimed, sounding as he felt a little short changed at not getting to do his favourite part of the job; the telling people what was wrong bit…

“I’m actually not clairvoyant in any way…” Horner told him. “But I have a – well – maybe I should say an EX-girlfriend who just happens to be a rather vindictive witch…”

“Good grief!!” exclaimed Dr Fish, looking quite taken aback by this revelation. “She really doesn’t like you, does she? What on earth did you do to her?”

Horner sighed. “Well, not so very much really; but you have to remember that she’s a witch and they’re very easily agitated!”

“Well, didn’t you bring her flowers? Take her out for a nice meal? Invite her on a pleasant holiday and woo her by candle light?” The Dr enquired, sounding as if he would have liked this to happen to him…

Horner gave Dr Fish to a very odd look. “Woo her by candlelight!?” he exclaimed, somewhat disbelievingly. “What do you think I am, stupid? Suicidal even?” The Doctor didn’t seem to get his point. “She’s a witch!” Horner reminded the medic. “A black witch – one who I’ve been married to for far longer than I care to remember. We split up for a few years once, but she put a love spell on me to win me back; flowers and wine and nice holidays don’t work on her – they only make her madder!”

“Oh!” Dr Fish replied – struggling for a come back. “But she must have liked you at some stage, if she put a love spell on you…

Horner sighed. He was a little tired of having to repeat this story over and over. “Not so…” he countered. “She just needed someone to help with the house work and pay the bills – she’s a very lazy woman at heart…”

“But WHY the curse, dear chap!?” The Doctor asked, still sounding completely confused. “You must have done something to warrant all this attention, surely!?”

“If you count forgetting the milk and being late for a dinner date – five minutes late – then, yes – I did…”

“Good Lord man!” exclaimed Dr Fish. “Then you should report her…”

Horner sighed and nodded his agreement. “Well that’s what I wanted to ask; I’m in the final stages of my Skin-Time and what I was rather hoping was that before I actually shed the last of my scales – which is always a very traumatic and mood altering time – perhaps I could make two phone calls? One to the police to report Katrina, for a start…”

“Of course! And the other to your solicitor, I suppose!”

“Actually no…” he replied. “I’d actually like to call an old friend of mine; I have her number – her name is Tula – Tula Swiss – she was my ex-fiancée…”

**

When Katrina had chanced her luck by asking her new yeti neighbour for a lift to the hospital, she had rather naively presumed that he’d have a car, or at very least some kind of van!

“You’re lucky I didn’t bring my Pogo-stick, dear…” Simon had teased when he’d seen the rather odd looking expression on Katrina’s face. “You’d have had to hide inside my top coat pocket or in the band of my hat…”

“Ah yes…” she had replied – momentarily lost for words. “It’s just that I’ve never ridden side saddle on a Penny Farthing before…” she sighed.

Which was fair enough; not many people had!!

“You’ll get used to it, dear!!” exclaimed the yeti, rather flamboyantly and much to Katrina’s dismay he waved his paws and his legs about flamboyantly too and she feared that the bike would topples over and that she might be flung into a ditch or worse still, a flower bed. (The thought made her retch! Ikk! The thought of being anywhere near flowers!! Such sickly things – so smelly, people always raved about them so; going on about how pretty they were when they were nothing more than weeds!)

“I’m sure I will get used to it!” Katrina agreed – wishing that she’d not given up riding her broomstick. She’d never been very good at it, to be honest, and had often ended up head over heels in a bush (or a flowerbed!!) Riding side-saddle on a penny farthing was slightly less scary than a broom-stick, at least.

“What I can’t understand is why we’re going to visit this friend of yours… I mean – I know he’s a friend and everything – but you don’t sound exactly that happy when you mention him. You say he’s been in an accident – but every time you say his name you frown – people don’t usually frown when they say their friends’ names, dear! Forgive me – maybe I’m wrong!!”

It wasn’t exactly easy getting into a proper conversation with the yeti whilst he was busy peddling the bike; he was such a Giant Haystacks sized beast – but she already knew that he would be just perfect to help facilitate the solution to her current predicament with Horner.

“You’re right, Simon!” she called. “Horner was my husband really, rather than my friend – but we split up recently – he’d been trying to hurt me – battering me with haddock – spending more time with his newt friends than with me. Not to mention all his flirtations with cod – he’s an amphibian man, you see!”

“Good grief, Katrina!!” exclaimed Simon – sounding really quite cross about this. “This man sounds like a monster!!”

“Well yes… An amphibian one…”

“No Katrina! I mean he treats you monstrously! He’s a maniac! A total psycho and he must be stopped, dear!” Simon insisted – really sounding very cross at having heard about Horner’s supposed behaviour – all of it lies, of course.

However, realising that Simon had fallen for her ruse made Katrina smile – although she was glad that Simon couldn’t see her where she sat – hugging him around the waist from behind on the penny farthing. When she spoke again she made sure that she sounded as sorry for herself as possible. “Oh Simon! I know you’re right – and yes – yes, he is a monster in all possible ways!” She concluded, adding just a little sob in the hope that this would gain her even more sympathy from the stupid great yeti.

They were nearly at the hospital now – so Katrina wanted Simon to be completely on her side by the time they reached the ward that Simon was on. “Don’t you worry, dear lady…” Simon assured her. “Horner really doesn’t deserve a woman like you showing him such loyalty and attention…”

“Oh, I know…” Katrina continued and let out another sob. “But what can I do? I’m still his wife, after all – and… And… It’s just that I love that son of a toad so much – as soon as I heard he was hurt I just had to come running…”

Simon Yeti said nothing – he rarely felt protective of people, for his own ego was so large – but Katrina he was definitely feeling complete sympathy for. “My dear…” he said determinedly. “Don’t you worry – we’ll sort this out once and for all!! This dreadful situation will be concluded in no time, I can assure you! I’ll reluctantly take you to see your ex-husband – but really – the man sounds like an utter brute and someone has to face him and tell him so and if it has to be me – even though I’m the most cowardly yeti there ever was – well, then if it has to be me – then by Jove I’ll do it – I’ll speak to him and I’ll put him right in his place…”

“Oh Simon…” sighed Katrina and inside she was chuckling away to herself, for this was exactly what she had wanted. “Oh Simon – it really is so good to hear you say that…”

**

Meanwhile, back in his ward, Horner had reached the final phase of his Skin-time and the scales were just dropping off around him. He’d managed to use the phone – but in the end he had only made one call; he’d called Miss Tula Swiss, his ex-fiancée – but decided to hold back from calling the police.

“I have my own way of dealing with this!” he decided – and he hoped that Tula might even be part of this plan.

Horner and Tula had dated for a year of so during his separation from Katrina some ten years ago now. They’d stayed friends though and Tula had recently been engaged to marry an Italian gentleman named Luigi. To be quite honest he was a little uncertain as to what her current situation was; other than that he’d recently received a brief letter saying that she had moved back to the country.

All those years ago when they had dated, Tula had been an archivist in a haunted college in Belgravia and they had both lived in the same block of flats. She’d known of his Skin-time and had been very accepting – but in the end the relationship had floundered partly due to her over-niceness and also after an incident involving an un-cooked kebab. After all that she had moved out and had gone to work for an MP in Whitehall.

Tula had been out when he called.

“Tula, honey… It’s me – Horner… I’m going through a change at the moment. I’m sorry to call you like this. I’m in the hospital in Dusty Acres and Katrina has been busy trying to kill me! Nothing changes – ey! Will you call me back…”

The pain from his skin change had got too bad at this point.

“Please ring back…” he pleaded the phone silently as he lay in agony on the bed – his new body slowly unfolding from beneath his shattered and shedding scales. “Please call me back, Tula…” he begged.

But at that point Horner passed out, and wouldn’t have heard the phone even if it had rung…

**

Tula Swiss sighed as she came in through the door of her apartment, laden with bags of rather expensive purchases from extremely expensive shops. “Go on, love! You’re allowed to splurge! You’re a successful authoress and pin-up for Supernatural enthusiasts everywhere!!” She’d had to remind herself; for indeed this was what she was, thanks to a book that she’d worked on with her Aunt – the fabulous clairvoyant, Fatima. It was just that she wasn’t used to spending that much money on herself or anyone else, for that matter – and it was months until Christmas!!

Lying down her bags, Tula noticed that her answer-phone was flashing; she was expecting a call and so casually crossed the room to take a listen:“Tula, honey – it’s me, Horner…”

Tula winced and jabbed the pause button on the message device – this was not who she’d been expecting to hear from. Although they’d kept in touch – they hadn’t exactly seen each other more than a couple of times in the last ten years – and he rarely sent a Christmas card in reply to any of the ones that she always sent each year, without fail.

He NEVER phoned, either.

EVER…

Not until today, that is…

Tula’s finger hovered momentarily over the delete button … and then suddenly she had a change of heart and pressed the PLAY button again, for old times sake…

“I’m sorry to call you like this. I’m in the hospital in Dusty Acres and Katrina has been busy trying to kill me! Nothing changes – ey! Will you call me back…”

Tula listened through the message half a dozen times more and then grabbed her coat and hat off the peg again. “Nobody kills my Horner…” she muttered under her breath. “Wife witch or no wife witch – nobody does that to dear old Fish Face!!”

There was no denying it now, Tula Swiss was on the case!

How will Tula manage to save her once-beloved Fish Face? What does Katrina Hortensia plan on doing next? Will Simon Yeti act the protective friend or will Tula get there first? And what’s more – what will be left of the old Horner once his scales have shed?!?

Fine out in the next obscenely exciting episode of DUSTY ACRES - an everyday story of people who you wouldn’t want to take home to meet your mother…

Mood music for this episode: "Don’t Call It Love..."; Dusty Springfield, White Heat, 1982.

PART TWO: IN WHICH HORNER IS LEFT WITH EGG ON HIS FACE...

"This love of mine / Oh, it's getting stronger / Can't help myself / Can't wait much longer..."

From: "That's The Kind Of Love I've Got For You..." (d. fletcher / d. parks); Dusty Springfield, It Begins Again, 1978.


Horner opened his eyes...

For a moment all had gone dark; but now - suddenly all was bright light again, but he seemed to be trapped inside some sort of sticky bubble - some translucent prison.

He tried to remember what had happened and recalled the Tyrannopigeon flying over head and the egg falling down towards him.

That was it.

He was inside the egg.

Alive still; thank goodness - head throbbing, but literally standing inside the remains of the egg - the hole that he'd caused in the shell now rested at his feet and yolk was slowly seeping out onto the earth - but he was surrounded completely by the otherwise undamaged shell.

At least his skin no longer felt like it was burning...

"Well, this isn't right..." he mused uncomfortably, the yolk was horribly sticky and although as an amphibian man he was used to breathing under water he had no wish to coat the insides of his nasal passages with the embryonic fluid of a Tyrannopigeon egg. "I have to get out of here!! It's as simple as that!!" he reasoned.

The egg had been pretty big and the yolk pretty thick - so presumably he could punch his way out. Taking a metaphorical deep breath he bunched up his right fist and punched quickly forward towards the shell.

*OUCH!!!*

**

Meanwhile elsewhere, back in Katrina's flat, Katrina was watching developments via CURSE-O-VISION - a channel on cable especially for witches who had spells in the offing…

She'd watched Horner staggering across the park and was under the impression that her curse was well on the way to completion. But then the whole business with the Tyrannopigeon egg had occurred and now she was quite confused as to where this left matters. The view on the screen now just showed the empty playing field and the solitary Tyrannopigeon egg which was roughly about the size of a small bungalow (but one of those nice ones - maybe with a thatched roof - more a cottage really). The picture hadn't changed for the last half house and she'd grown a little bored and had gone away to make popcorn and a nice pot of "evil" tea. When she'd returned nothing had changed.

"Hmm... This is most frustrating!!" she declared aloud. "So is this it?" At least if he'd burst into a fireball as she'd intended then she could have watched as he crackled to a cinder; relished his suffering as he'd gradually perished - but the whole egg business had stolen the more grand revenge that Katrina had hoped for.

Quite frankly she wasn't happy.

"This is ridiculous..." she sighed, after the screen had remained unchanged for almost and hour. She couldn't see why the screen remained broadcasting if the curse had run its course. Could he possible have survived both the curse and the giant falling egg!? "This is stupid!! So is he dead or alive!?" she muttered to herself angrily.

Suddenly - as if in answer to her question something did suddenly happen on the screen; the left hand side of the giant egg suddenly exploded outward and staggering into the light - covered in a thick film of yolk, was Horner.

"Dammit!!" cursed Katrina - she couldn't believe her bad luck - but somehow she sensed the matter was not yet over.

Horner seemed blinded by the yolk - totally disorientated as he tried to wipe the offending membrane from out of his eyes - to clear his vision...

It was about this point that he left the grass and stumbled onto the street - quite oblivious to the passing vehicles.

"Hoorah..." beamed Katrina. "This is more like it..."

At that very moment there was a loud hoot from a car horn and the bright glare of headlights. Something passing Horner clipped his right side and sent the confused amphibian spinning into the gutter with a cry.

Katrina was about the cheer, but before she had a chance to do so, her face fell...

The vehicle that had hit Horner was an ambulance...

“Unbelievable!!” cried Katrina furiously, but before she could contemplate casting any further curses or spells, the doorbell rang.

The ambulance appeared to have stopped and the driver was bundling Horner guiltily into the van.

The doorbell rang again and furiously Katrina rose to her feet and proceeded to cross the flat so as to answer the door.

“WHAT!?” she bellowed as she opened it. She was about to say more, but was quite taken aback by the shaggy visitor who confronted her on her doorstep.

“Hello!” beamed the creature. “My name is Simon Yeti and I’m your new neighbour – is there any chance I could borrow a cup of poison?”

**

Meanwhile, across ay Dusty Acres hospital Horner was just arriving in the Emergency Ward and his condition being assessed. “Why is this amphibian covered in egg yolk?” demanded the doctor in charge. “Surely he’d not just hatched!!”

The Sister wasn’t at all sure. “I don’t THINK so…” she replied, taking a moment to check her notes. “Errr no – apparently a Tyrannopigeon dropped it’s egg on him…”

“But all this skin trauma?” The doctor enquired. “He appears to be shedding his scales…”

“Well, according to his notes that’s exactly what’s happening…” confirmed Sister. “We’re trying to contact any relatives to let them know he’s in here…” she added helpfully. Staringin concern at their silent patient. “Doctor…” she enquired after a moments pause. “Do you think he’s come out of his coma – do you think he’ll survive?”

Right at that moment Horner’s eyes flicked open; he smiled – having heard the sisters question. “I hate to interrupt!” he choked, through a mouthful of scales. “But, you know – I think I’m going to be just fine…”

**

“A cup of poison!?” exclaimed Katrina excitedly, inviting the yeti into her apartment in an untypical attempt to be neighbourly.

“Why yes!!” beamed Simon. “I have roses climbing up the outside of my flat and every time I looked out of the window to admire the passing totty I poke myself in the eye, dear – it’s really got to stop!!”

“The eye poking you mean – not the totty watching?” Katrina chuckled, taking the container from him and hoping that her wart was attractive looking in the subdued lighting. “I quite understand…” she added. “Let me fetch you that poison – I’m afraid I only have arsenic and a little hemlock… Oh, weed killer – rose are weeds aren’t they!?” she exclaimed brightly as she began to file through the herbs, spices and various poisons which she kept in her kitchen cupboard. “Darn it…” she muttered. “All out of eye of toad and ear of bat – must remember to get some next time I’m out…”

“This is a very nice flat, you have – my dear…” beamed Simon Yeti. “I’m so glad I moved into the area! Everyone’s so friendly – in a rather demonic/want-to-kill-you way, but friendly all the same…” he chuckled. “I’ve been unwell you see, but now I’m recovered – I’ve been undergoing invisible reversibility treatment, you see…”

“Goodness!” exclaimed Katrina. “How ever did you end up like that!?”

“Oh – it was nothing…” sighed Simon. “I had a slight problem with a time machine on the way back from stopping for a picnic with ABBA back in 1976… Most unfortunate and too long a story to go into now – maybe another day…”

“Maybe…” agreed Katrina uncertainly and then decided it was best to keep talking so that Simon didn’t get a chance to suggest a date. “Goodness! Goodness! Goodness!” she continued, beginning to sound rather distracted as she sorted through her poisons. “I have a friend in hospital at the moment too…” she explained, turning back to Simon – an idea in mind and fake tears already brimming in her eyelids. “Oh Simon!” she sniveled – suddenly acting as if completely overwhelmed with emotion. “Simon! I’m SOOOOO worried about him…” she sobbed.

…And with that she did something that she’d not done since 1974…

Something which she found surprisingly easy to do…

Katrina began to cry…

**

Meanwhile, back in hospital, Horner had regained consciousness and had been transferred to a private room of his own. He was still a little disorientated, but the main thing, he reason – was that he was alive – AND that he was no longer covered in egg yolk!!

“Doctor Fish!!” said a voice suddenly, right close up to Horner’s face – nearly causing him to instantly shed all his remaining scales in fear. “Mr Horner!! Dr Fish!!!” boomed the Doctor again, just to be sure that he’d got the message. “They sent me in too look at your case…” he explained. “I’m a frog specialist – my grandmother was half frog and my Auntie Muriel used to be a tadpole…”

Horner frowned. “We tend to say amphibian…” he explained. “I’m part fish – part lizard and part human…” he added.

“Yes… Yes…” nodded Dr Fish. “I see that you’re going through you’re Skin-Time right about now… A frog doesn’t want to be getting hit by giant eggs or run down by ambulances when he’s in his Skin-Time, now does he!?”

“Well – err – no…” Horner admitted, but still he gave the doctor a rather withering look. Dr Fish was, well yes – it would be true to say that he was a rather fishy looking man (not in the dodgy meaning of the word – more in the cod or haddock way, to be honest…)

“I’ve done my research…” Dr Fish sighed. “…and I think I can tell you why this happened to you…”

“Oh really!?” Horner nodded, to be perfectly frank he had a pretty good idea why, himself. “Go ahead!” he invited. “Surprise me!”

Dr Fish frowned. “Well – it’s quite a peculiar one really…” he began. “I’ve not seen anything like it in quite some time!!”

“Yes… Yes… Cut to the chase, won’t you doctor?” Horner snapped. “Let me take a guess! Was it witchcraft? A Hex? A Curse?” he asked and knew he was right. “Katrina’s going to pay!!” he vowed. “Oh yes, Katrina’s going to pay dearly…”

How will Katrina escape vengeance now Horner is still alive? How can Simon Yeti help? What form of revenge will Horner attempt and is I exciting enough to get its own mini-series?

All will be revealed in the next fantabulacious instalment of DUSTY ACRES - an everyday story of the people it’s preferable to avoid!!!

PART ONE: IN WHICH NO-ONE STANDS UP, KATRINA HORTENSIA...

"In your sleep you've been talkin' / Callin' every other name but mine / And thats not a very encouraging sign…"

From: "Who Gets Your Love?" (dennis lambert / brian potter); Dusty Springfield, Cameo, 1973.

Katrina Hortensia dropped the bleached frog skin into her cauldron and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 13 minutes past 13 O'clock and her lover still hadn't called. "Horner - where are you?" she sighed to herself crossly. "I applied expensive makeup on my nose wart for you and you can't even do me the courtesy of showing up…"

Katrina was feeling sorry for herself. There was a misnomer that witches were cold and heartless and couldn't feel love. Katrina knew that this was nonsense. She was cold and heartless, sure enough - but she did feel love and she did feel hurt. Katrina was new to Dusty Acres - it was a regenerated gothic community about 20 miles from Spectrum City and a world away from her dingy cob-webbed cave back in Sutton Park. Her new pad came with an inbuilt cauldron. It even had a microwave. And a toilet. That flushed.

To be honest, she really wasn't used to such luxuries…

Usually Katrina just did a spell and things would sort themselves out!!
Today she was about to do another spell…

This one was for Horner, her lover - the amphibian ratbag…

**

Meanwhile, elsewhere…

Horner sat in his room, staring at a photo album which was intricately decorated with the baby teeth of rogue porcupine. He could barely make out each picture as the light from the bedside candle didn't give out a lot of illumination.
He was changing.

But this time he knew it was different.

He daren't show his face…

For a good nine months of the years; journalist and travel writer - Horner was an oily red-skinned amphibian; a man-sized frog to put it bluntly. He was used to the jibes - but that was him - he couldn't deny it - he WAS a man-sized frog. End of story.

To be honest, he rather liked the look - it was quite stylish and in his own community he was considered quite a hottie…

…For a man-sized frog.

The other three months of the year things were different. When Horner's "skin-time" arrived he shed his scales and underneath…

Well, underneath was what the straight, hunan world would have described as a "hunk"; a strapping six foot-something dark-haired adonis.

It was a source of great misery to him. How he hated it when "skin-time" came. How he hated his muscled body, his taunt hairy torso; those dimples and cute bum. Ikkkkk!!!! It couldn't be helped, of course and he'd been with his lover, Katrina, now for several centuries and she was used to him changing.

Only…

Only, this time he sense that it was going to be different this "skin-time"…

"Please don't make it happen…" he begged in a whispered prayer to whatever force of nature it was that caused him to change. He didn't dare to look in the mirror as his scales began to flake away. "Please don't make it happen to me!!" he persisted. "Please…"

**

Meanwhile, back in her sleek new apartment Katrina had made a decision over her future and had decided that Horner was no longer part of it. She just didn't trust him, although she knew at the back of her mind that a lot of her suspicion came from her own home grown paranoia. There was always some passing mermaid or werelady whom she fancied she saw Horner winking at down at the supermarket. She even suspected him of eyeing up her next door neighbour; a wizard named Sandy - but then again she wouldn't have been averse to a three way playtime with Sandy herself; if only he didn't regard her tangled cob-webbed hair and her warty nose with total disgust.
Sandy was into centaurs anyway; so there was no chance of a witch like Katrina competing for his attentions.

At any rate, she only had one thing on her mind at the moment and that was getting back at Horner. She knew he was coming up to another "skin-time", but that didn't stop her plotting. In fact it only gave her more excuse to reek her revenge when he entered her period of skin change and scale shedding. Not only did he become handsome in a way that only a human could appreciate, but all his anger, evil and spitefulness was replaced with kindness, generosity and freedom of spirit.

It was appalling.

All that NICENESS!!!!

It made her sick.

"This is for standing me up, Horner…" she growled - taking his photo from her fur-lined, spike enhanced purse and laid it before her on the table. "This is for all those disgusting bouquets and romantic candle-lit dinners you've made me endure over the years when you've been in "skin-time…" she continued, taking a huge sacrificial dagger from her stocking top and slicking through the photo again and again until it was in many, many pieces. Collecting up the remains up together she began to chant and carried the sliced photograph towards a blazing green flame by the pentagra, nearest the phone. "This'll teach you to be so NICE to me…" she sneered and then she added. "This'll teach you once and for all…"

…And with that she threw the pieces of the photo into the fire…

**

Back across town, Horner sighed and let the door of his flat slam behind him. His scales were flaking at an alarming speed and he was leaving a little red, fleshy trail behind him. Perversely, although he was changing he was actually feeling more generous; more guilty about the whole situation - this was a side effect of the "skin-time", of course - but he needed to speak to Katrina and explain before it was too late - before the change was done.

He thought back to the period when he and Katrina had split up and he'd gone out with a human for a year or so. Her name had been Tula and she'd been a college arcivist with an understanding for supernatural matters. Things just hadn’t worked out because he'd ended up resenting the fact that Tula accepted him so readily. He'd been going through a stage quite the reverse of the way he felt now - where he just wanted to merge into the background and he hadn't wanted to face how odd he was. He'd tried living with Tula in London - but it just hadn't worked - the fact that she accepted him as an amphibian man only freaked him out even more.

Communication and understanding was the problem and it was the same with Katrina since they'd gotten back together.

"Are we back together because we're right together or because there's no-one else who understands us!?" he often pondered.

He really wasn't sure of the answer to that one…

All the same, it did not good just skulking in the shadows of his home in the aquarium and not facing Katrina. He did love her really - even though she did have a tendancy to occasionally transform him into a dust-mite occasionally when she was practising her spells. Time was running out and soon he would have to leave the aquarium and go and rent a flat or maybe move in with Katrina whilst he was in his human stage…

But this depended on one key fact: the possibility that they could get through the next "skin-time" without splitting up - because this one was going to be a biggy…
He wasn't sure if they could, to be honest…

Horner bundled the rain mac tighter around him and tried to turn his face away from any people he passed. He tried to disguise his shedding features by covering his face with a newspaper. "I should have got a taxi…" he reasoned.

He was currently running for the bus; but realised now that people would just stare if he got close to him - even more so on a bus than in a taxi.

"I'll just walk…" he decided - although it was miles across Dusty Acres to reach Katrina's flat.

He was feeling too hot too. Not just a nervous flush, but boiling - almost feverish. Worse even. Almost on fire.

As he headed across a deserted recreation ground he shrugged off his coat - forgetting about not being seen; now simply desperate to get some air.

He was still burning. Almost aflame.

It was just at this moment - as he thought he caught the sound of Katrina's laughter in the air, that something very odd did indeed happen...

Above him a large bird swooped - one of the area's native Tyrannopigeons.

Horner stopped. Something was wrong.

A giant shadow appeared to surround him and appeared to be getting bigger.

Bigger.

BIGGER.

Something was falling towards him from a great height. Horner looked up quickly to see what it was. He was soon enough to see it, but not soon enough to run.

Seconds later a giant Tyrannopigeon egg, the size of a small house, plummetted out of the sky and landed on Horner's head.

Everything went dark.

Will Katrina's curse kill Horner? Can the metamorphosizing amphibian escape the weight of the giant Tyrannopigeon egg? Is there any way that Horner's scales could be recycled so that they don't go to waste; used as ear-rings for instance? Could Katrina forgive Horner his generous ways? Should he survive, what will he become this time and if it's hunky then I'm first in line for a snog, so hands off…

All will be revealed in the next scintilating episode of DUSTY ACRES - an everyday story of the sort of folk you simply don't meet everyday!!!

COMING SOON!!!

THE FIRST EPISODE OF DUSTY ACRES WILL BE POSTED UP SOON...