Leggings@60+com part 10

The area was quite beautiful, an array of cherry trees and silver birches lined the streets on grass verges. The houses set well back past a path were all bungalows of brick and slate construction. Not new and not too old. The gardens were all dandiefied, all different, even when the plants were the same.
The house we headed around where the victim of the royal game lived, boasted a cottage garden, a lawn surrounded by flower borders on three sides, and a mixed hedge of assorted bushes at the mid way wall between the two joined bungalows. It wasn't as formal as it's neighbours - there was no control of growth. The person who lived there found the life of the garden as exciting and vivid as life, and had the opportunity to watch it through the huge picture window. All year round it flung forth flowers, from the double hearted rose to the simple primrose, it was a reflection of her varied and superlative character.
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We saw her peep out through the kitchen window at us as we talked to her neighbours, who were also high up in the heirachy of clubdom.
"Say we're part of the Navy's retirement club, if asked," hissed Sharon, folding her paper back on the clipboard in a proffessional manner.
I nodded feeling dumb. It wasn't nice doing all this stuff to confuzzle someone. Especially when you could tell the victim had nothing very much of her own.
"Doesn't matter," said the neighbour snortling, "We do this all the time to people. They used to call this block the torture houses. It keeps us up to the mark. It really does."
"She writes," said his wife, throwing back her bald head, and craning her neck to see me better, "So did that man we caught years ago, do you remember?"
Sharon nodded, "We got him though! We got him good! We made him pay! Telly Pathic or Terror Patricks!"
"We sure did," said the man, "We took the money for about three of his books. Want a rabbit? We caught some nice ones over the fields early on today?"
Sharon laughed showing her white pearl teeth, "I'd love one!"
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They went inside to sort out the rabbit, and eventually passed over a wrapped up parcel, strangely reminiscent of fish and chips over. Sharon took it and sniffed at it as if it contained the loveliest smell.
"Fresh!" she cooed, "Fresh!" She gave me a strange dark look, I had the oddest feeling - that if i hadn't been there she would have taken it out and bitten straight in. "So crunchable," she muttered under her breath. "Full of morning primrose."
"So what's she like as a neighbour," I asked, hoping they wouldn't offer me a dead animal. I know it takes all sorts - yet this was ultra odd. "Is she friendly?
"Not really," said the man, "The game might sort it out though - she's noisy in the loo, reckons she's got a problem."
His wife laughed suddenly, "So funny," she cackled, "So did the ones before."
"They had to run in the end, nothing left!" Sharon said, "She was a bad one! We had to sort her out too."
"This one reckons there's weird marks in the garden. Her kid had a mate round to sleep and she says she saw ghosts sitting on the lawn." giggled the woman.
"Funny that," said the man, "They don't usually come up until later in the game, and if they catch you..."
"And if they don't?" asked Sharon thoughtfully.
"No problem, there's always the spade." said the man. "I ding them good!"
"He does," shouted his wife in glee, "He does ding em good!"
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"Are we really going to kill her?" I asked. My heart beat was pulsing in panic.
"We don't kill anyone." Sharon said showing her teeth in a no smile. "When it happens its always someone else."