Tomcat Tompkins – 38

This novel is something a little different for me. It is a satire set in the UK at the present moment. There are striking parallels between these days and the 1930s. There’s a lot of racist people around who are crawling out of the woodwork as they have been encouraged by the implications of the Brexit vote.


The dog then barked out loud and ran off to the door, where his owner, Mildred Smythe-Harcourt was beckoning him. The two Sergeant boys had a swift and amicable reconciliation and apologised to the people at the table, before holding their arms aloft and sashaying out of the room, showing to those watching, that they’d not taken a damned thing.

Tompkins had moved the bag under his seat and placed his vast calves in the way blocking the bag from everyone’s sight.

“Good work, Tomcat, that went like clockwork,” said Dr. Black under his breath before looking over at the table, where the party of two men and three women were making light of the fact their bag was missing.

“I wonder who those blighters are,” said Tompkins making eye contact with the occupants of a table by the door.

“I am not sure I’ve seen them before,” said Dr. Black looking at Tompkins. He then noticed Tompkins give an exaggerated wink.

“Well, we’ll soon know, Dr. Black, my favourite doc in all the world – Boffo, Spitzy, Wendy, Chantelle, and Snorter will follow them to their lair. Everything is primed and ready to go. Bish and bosh, they’re in our hands, although they don’t realise it yet.”

“Is there anyone in here who’s not on our side or on the other side? You seem to know everyone in here.”

Tompkins looked around the room before answering – “Well, doctor, I think I know almost everyone in here, y’know – there’s Pongo and his crowd over there, then Kanga and her pals, Squinty Smethurst and his Oxford crowd, Alex Ravensmith with his coterie of beauties from the model agency, Will o’ the wisp Crisp from up north in Hampstead, The Emperor down from Cambridge, Pig Wig from The Shires…”

Doctor Black held up his hand …”You’ve made your point, Tomcat, but how come you didn’t spot the people with the camera if you know everyone in here?”

Published by Julian Worker

Julian was born in Leicester, attended school in Yorkshire, and university in Liverpool. He has been to 94 countries and territories and intends to make the 100 when travel is easier. He writes travel books, murder / mysteries and absurd fiction. His sense of humour is distilled from The Marx Brothers, Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, and Midsomer Murders. His latest book is about a Buddhist cat who tries to help his squirrel friend fly further from a children's slide.

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