Duel with giant spider was the stuff of nightmares

Rab relives how a relaxing read in bed was turned into an unnerving late-night encounter with a creature he found as frightening as anything to appear in the pages of a book

I’ve been duelling with a giant spider. Perhaps “duelling” is an exaggeration. But “spider” isn’t. And it was huge. Well, huge-ish. Put it this way: it was bigger than the norm. I was lying in bed reading The Lord Of The Rings again when I caught sight of a dark blob out of the corner of my eye. Imagine if that was a giant spider, I thought.

Even though there is a giant spider later in The Lord Of The Rings, it’s James Bond in Dr No that springs to mind when I contemplate such horrors.

Educated readers will recall that Bond was also in bed when a humongous tarantula crawled up his body.

Smarties tell you tarantulas don’t harm humans. But they say the same of house spiders, even though these bite and are worshippers of Satan.

On this night I told myself the black blob was just the knob on the radiator over on the wall by the window.

But, when I screwed my eyes in properly and focused, I saw that it was indeed a big spider.

I leaped out of bed and decided on an immediate course of action: panicking.

My panic escalated when the beast slid in behind the radiator. “I can’t sleep in the room with that there,” I moaned.

After I kicked the radiator the spider emerged and sat on the floor, emitting an evil laugh.

My usual procedure with spiders is to put a jar over them then slide a sliver of paper over the top of the jar, which I then take to the outside world. There, I release the beast which, if it comes running back towards me, usually results in my leaping about and uttering manly squeals.

On this occasion I wasn’t even sure the usual jar would be big enough. But, gingerly, I bunged it over the beast. And it got away! It scuttled rapidly across the floor, causing me to retreat in an orderly manner, tripping over my feet and hurtling backwards on to the bed.

I waited in terror for the best to pounce and start strangling me, but nothing happened so I got up to reconnoitre the terrain. It was at the foot of a chest of drawers.

Once more, I deployed the jar and, once more, it escaped. It was now under the chest of drawers, which I moved to reveal it sitting there, idly filing its nails. This time, I got it.

But, when I tried sliding the paper over the jar, I lifted the latter inadvertently, and the beast scuttled off again.

At the third attempt I got it and took it downstairs, praying that I didn’t bump into anything with my usual clumsiness.

On the garden path, instead of lifting the jar – too scary – I kicked it, causing it to roll away with a racket.

I saw the beast on the path, glaring angrily and causing me to leap back, just as a neighbour’s light came on and they looked out, thinking: “There’s Rab kicking jars and dancing about on his garden path at midnight again.”

But at least the beast was out.

I locked and bolted the door. Back in the bedroom I checked for further horrors and, satisfied, returned to bed.

Eventually, I fell asleep – with the light on.