The Ark. Part One. Nails and Knitwear.

The Norwegian scratched his head. He had very important work to do and whoever this ridiculously small person was he had a feeling she was weird. It was probably the sombrero. Not that common in Maidstone.

'What exactly are you doing?' she asked. Svein sighed inwardly. Could no one in this country form a sentence properly? 

'I am building an ark,' he said, indicating the huge boat. 'Obviously. Who are you anyway?'

'The Author,' snapped the little woman, 'and I can see that. WHY are you building one? In my field?'

'Oh, that. Do we really have to go into it?'

'YES. Of course we do.'

'Right, er, okay well you won't believe me,' said Svein unhappily. 'No one's going to...'

'Spit it out,' answered The Author wearily. 'You can't go around constructing gigantic wooden dinghies on people's land without offering some reasonable explanation.'

'No, I get that. Okay,' Svein took a deep breath. 'An angel told me to.'

There was silence, broken only by a woman with red hair arriving breathlessly at the scene and then looking confused, and disappearing whilst shouting something over her shoulder.

'Who was that?' asked Svein.

'Susie,' The Author replied. 'She's forgotten something. Or it's tea time. She'll be back. Now, an angel? Really?'

'An angel,' said Svein firmly. 'There's going to be a lot of rain, we need an ark. Now if you don't mind, I'm very busy.' With that he turned his back on The Author. Her phone went off.

'Who's that?' asked a woman with a fan. 'Where's the flood? I'm very confused. I think my corset is too tight.'

'Jane?' asked The Author, scrolling through her mobile. 'Oh it's just Oscar, updating his status. He's on his way here, apparently, but he had to book into a hotel for a break. It's got six swimming pools. No, seven. It's got swimming pools anyway. Jane who told you about this?'

'Everyone knows,' Jane told her. 'Everyone. Why has he stopped? Is it too late? Are we flooded already?'

'By what? Lunacy?' The author looked at Svein. 'Why HAVE you stopped?'

'I'm finished,' the Norwegian told her. 'All done.'

'Good,' said a voice. Everyone spun round. 'I need you to translate me.'

'Translate you?' asked Svein.

'Yes,' said Garry. 'I am a dark, brooding detective and I need Scandinavian subtitles. And a nice jumper, but the knitwear can wait.'

'Garry, that's not how Scandi- Noir works. Except for the jumper, which is. What are you detecting anyway?' The Author looked round. Nothing seemed especially notable except the massive ship. And a man pushing a wheelbarrow full of books up the ark's gangplank. 

'Hey, you!' said Garry, running after him. 'Who said you could board? We were here first!' 

'Oh god,' said The Author. 'It's Daniel. How big is this boat? If he's bringing all his books...'

'Of course I'm bringing all my books,' Daniel shouted, hefting the barrow into the ark. 'Only sixty more runs to do. Ish.'

A woman in a hat appeared, running over the field clutching a lace hankie. 

'Did someone say books? I have books!'

The Author sighed and looked around. There was what looked like a very intense fawn in one corner of the field and a woman with some dogs behind her and a tattooed woman AND a motorhome was drawing up.

'Svein, I think we're going to need another ark.'