Chapter Four – Rose
ROSE
Pig-Headed Ponce
“ J ake. Pour.” I slammed my glass down on the dining table in front of him.
My brother stared at me with disgust. “I’m your brother, not your slave.”
“Wrong. Being my younger brother makes you my slave,” I said shoving my glass closer to him. “And your big sister is in emotional distress . I am having a crisis, baby brother. My life is ending. I’ve ruined everything.”
“So, you keep saying, but you haven’t told me why.”
“Because you’re my brother. There are things about me you don’t need to know. I don’t want to dirty your pure, innocent ears.”
“Gross.”
“Get me a drink before I go to the pub, cause carnage, and bring shame on our family by getting arrested.”
“You’ve been thrown in a jail cell enough times that it’s impossible to bring shame in that way. There’s a betting pool at the rugby club on how long it’ll take you get locked up again.”
I looked up at the sound of the new voice.
Shaun Patrick: rugby player, rum drinker, and the police officer who was usually responsible for my timeouts in jail. Also, my lifelong best friend who was, inexplicably, secretly in love with Isadora.
She was enough in love with herself without Shaun’s unrequited longing feeding her ego.
“A betting pool? How fucking rude,” I said, glaring at him. “Did you start that? I bet you cheated and looked at my record.”
He held up his hands, and the bag hooked around his arm clinked. “I’m merely utilising the tools at my disposal. However, as a responsible member of the Hanbury Police Force, I cannot allow the resident troublemaker to go out in such a terrible mood.”
“Then, officer , there better be booze in that damn bag of yours.”
He set it on the dining table with a grin. “Isa got called in for an emergency with a hedgehog, so I’ve been roped in to keep you in line while she finishes up.”
“Then be a good friend and pour me a drink. This brat won’t.” I cocked my thumb in the direction of my brother right as he cracked open a can of beer. “ Brat .”
“I was only refusing because I don’t want to deal with your drunk arse,” Jake said, grabbing an empty glass for Shaun. “Now your babysitter is here, you can do what you want.”
“Why am I the babysitter? That’s Isa’s job.” Shaun took the glass from Jake and unveiled the contents of his shopping bags.
Wine.
Rum.
Vodka.
And the biggest fucking bags of Flamin’ Hot Monster Munch I’d seen in a long time.
“Score,” I said, grabbing one and tearing into it.
Shaun poured me a glass of wine. “So, why are we in hysterics tonight?”
“I am not in hysterics. Hysterics implies I’m not in control of my emotions, but I am. In fact, I have such a high level of control that I recognise I’m so angry that Dante would name a level of Hell after me.”
“There’s already one,” Jake said. “It’s called my life.”
“Fuck off.”
“Jake, drink your drink and stop winding her up even more,” Shaun said, passing me the wine. “What’s pissed on your cornflakes, Rose?”
“That bastard.” I aggressively bit into my crisp. “That rich, handsome, pompous, pig-headed ponce!”
Shaun looked at my brother. “So… the new duke, right?”
Jake nodded. “Just don’t mention his name. Bongo has been in hiding since she screamed earlier.”
“It really is a good thing she isn’t in public if she’s already screaming,” Shaun muttered. “No wonder Isa called me and told me to move quickly.”
“Hey, I’m right here. I can hear what you degenerates are saying about me!” I thumped my fist against the table. “I’m having a crisis!”
“But you aren’t telling anyone what the crisis is, doofus.” Shaun poured a rum and coke for himself and sat back in the chair.
I was not about to discuss my sex life in front of my younger brother.
We weren’t that close.
Even if we were, I doubted I’d feel comfortable anyway.
I sighed and shoved the closure notice from Oliver towards him. “Read that shit.”
He picked it up and scanned it. “What is… Hold on. He’s shutting down the allotments?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Housing. He said he’s been approached by a developer who wants to throw up those stupid cookie-cutter new builds that fall apart at a mere gust of wind.”
Shaun eyed me over the top of the letter. “Is that what he said?”
“No. He said the allotments are dead land and it’s more profitable to sell it to a housing developer. The rest was my highly accurate interpretation.”
“And you let him walk out of there alive?”
“I had no choice. Susan almost broke her ankle trying to climb the fence to help Isa hold me back.” I sniffed, looking away. “Also, I don’t want to hurt him on a whim.”
“I see you’re finally maturing. It only took twenty-nine and a bit years.”
“I intend to plan my course of action down to the second to ensure that every ounce of pain I bestow upon him will be so intense that it’ll make him cower in fear at the mere mention of my name.”
“I take it back.”
“No, no, that’s her maturing,” my brother said, finally sitting down. “She’s actually planning her revenge now. Two years ago, she’d have just socked him with a spade and called it good.”
I held out my hand and raised my eyebrows in a, “See?” look at Shaun. “I am a mature woman now.”
“No,” Shaun replied. “Mature women wash their faces before they start drinking.”
“I washed my face.”
“Then you missed, like, five spots of dirt. You look like a child.”
“Wow. You’re supposed to be comforting me, not abusing me.”
“All in due time, Ro.” Shaun turned his attention back to the letter. “I can’t believe the first thing he’s done after coming back is close the allotments. He’s only been here for five minutes. His grandfather wasn’t exactly loved, so how does he think this is going to endear him to the locals?”
“Mmph. I’m not sure he did think.” I took a big gulp of my wine. “Do you think humans make a good fertiliser?”
“I don’t think you should be talking about murdering the Duke of Hanbury and burying him in your vegetable patch in front of a police officer,” Shaun drawled. “What are you going to do? Legally speaking.”
Legally?
What a killjoy. He could at least pretend to indulge my law-breaking fantasies, the filthy traitor.
“Consult a lawyer, I guess,” I replied. “At the very least, I need to make sure the notice complies with the terms within the contract. It was only renewed right before I took over as the committee chair a couple of years ago. I know it changed, but I can’t remember it off the top of my head.”
Shaun smiled. “Whatever it says, it’ll be fine. You have legal cover in the allotment insurance, right?”
“We do. We have to.” I sighed, slumping forwards. “I just… can’t believe that arrogant, bull-headed, snobbish schnitzelprick thinks he can waltz into our village and shut down our allotments.”
“Well, he does own the land they’re on,” Jake said. “As long as he complies with your contract, he can do what he wants.”
I snapped my head around and glared at him. “Do you want to die, brat?”
“Sis, it wouldn’t hurt you to think rationally.”
“I can’t think rationally. I’m angry. And if you’re going to be rational, piss off and book that dumb cat of yours into the vets to be neutered.”
Jake’s cheeks flushed. “I called!”
“Never fear, Isadora is hereeeeee!” Isa strolled into the kitchen with a flourish. “And she has alcoholllllll!”
Yes. That’s what we needed. More alcohol.
Shaun turned around. “Why are you referring to yourself in the third person?”
“It’s called making an entrance, Shaun.” She knocked her fist against the top of his head. “Oh, you already have booze.”
“You called me and said Rose was on the verge of streaking through the town centre. Of course I brought booze.”
Jake looked between them. “Why would you bring booze to my hysterical sister who might streak through the middle of town? Wouldn’t you give her… I don’t know, something to knock her out instead?”
Isa grabbed the bottle of vodka and gave it a wiggle. “Behold, the legendary medicine to knock a crazy bitch out.”
“Why am I being abused in my own home?” I muttered, cradling my glass. “I need new friends.”
“Nobody else could handle you,” Isa said, putting her bag on the table. “And, Jake? Bongo is booked in for his snip next Tuesday. Make sure you bring him to the office by eight-thirty to check him in.”
Jake blushed. “I told you I’d called, Rose.”
I looked at Isa. “Did he call?”
Isa helped herself to a glass from the cupboard. “Did he call? Hm, no. I called Big Steve to find out his work shifts, and he gave me his college class schedule, so I booked it in on a day he only has one class in the afternoon and a day off work to make sure he can’t use them as an excuse.”
Jake jumped to his feet. “That sly git!”
“That sly git is her uncle and your boss,” Shaun pointed out.
“Exactly. Listen to me, young man.” Isa planted her hands on the dining table and glared over at him.
“Your cat is one month away from sexual maturity. If I don’t get his balls within the next two weeks, I’m going to send you a bill for every single cat I have to trap-neuter-release and every single stray ginger kitten that gets brought in or dumped for six months after he’s castrated. Every. Single. One.”
My brother paled. “Wh—why? That’s not fair!”
“Neither is it fair for the rescue centres who have to pick up the pieces of lazy arse owners like you.” She dug in her bag and pulled out an appointment card, then tossed it at him.
“Eight-thirty a.m. Next Tuesday. If you forget, I’ll put you on my operating table and take your balls.
Either way, I’m removing a pair of testicles next week. ”
He raised his beer to his lips and averted his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there.”
I turned to my best friend. “You’re scary.”
She grabbed the wine bottle and refilled my glass. “Shut up and drink. I didn’t come here to lecture your brother, although that is a bonus. I came here to find out why the duke reduced you to silence earlier when you first met.”
“I was momentarily drowning in an overwhelming wave of hatred for such a pompous git,” I replied.