Chapter Twenty-Three – Oliver
OLIVER
Every Rose Has Its Thorns… And A Dildo
I got out of my car and stretched my arms, rolling my shoulders back. It’d been three days since our little escapade to the garden centre, and I hadn’t heard from Rose until this morning when she’d asked me to come to the allotments.
‘Asked’ was a nice way of putting it.
She’d summoned me, and here I was like a well-trained puppy, doing exactly what she wanted me to do.
I was in real trouble with this woman.
I’d never been one to be at someone’s beck and call, but Rose Matthews had me running around after her like she was my master and I was her slave.
I walked into the allotments, keeping my chin slightly lowered. I knew I wasn’t exactly welcome here. There wasn’t a single plot holder here who wanted to see my face, and I suspected that was exactly why Rose kept calling me here.
She wanted to see me suffer like the sadist she was.
“I see you made it here in one piece without being attacked,” Rose quipped when I opened the gate to her plot.
“Yes, thankfully nobody thought to weaponise a carrot on my way here,” I replied dryly. “What was so urgent that you demanded I get here within the hour?”
She turned towards me, cradling a black cat in her arms.
A cat?
Where was her beloved chicken? Her snookums, or whatever it was that Isadora called it.
“You have a cat?” I asked before she could reply.
“Yes. You have met before, you know.” She blinked at me. “This is Hades. God of the Underworld. Chief Mouser. Head Rat Catcher. Dreamer of birds.”
That was quite the introduction. “Dreamer of birds?”
“Yeah, he chases the pigeons, but they’re too quick for him.
” She shrugged and scratched him under his little chin, something the cat enjoyed very much by the way he closed his eyes and leant into her touch.
“Just as well. It’s bad enough clearing up the feathers when the chickens go through moult without having to clean up the pigeons’, too.
Not that I’ll ever see my babies through another moult, of course. ”
There was her first shot of the day.
“You could just put them in your garden, you know.”
She shot me a look. “We can’t. My neighbour’s dog is an absolute prick where birds are concerned, and I’m not willing to confine them to a run for the rest of their lives just because he can’t keep his teeth to himself. Why don’t you put them in your garden?”
I tilted my head to the side. “I suppose I could, but Waffles probably won’t like it. He did shit in my shoe last time I was here.”
“He was just following orders. It was him or the cat.”
“I should count myself lucky, then.” I eyed the cat. “Is he another one of your minions?”
“Perhaps. Every girl has her secrets, you know.”
The cat wriggled, and she loosened her hold, allowing him to pounce out of her arms onto the edge of her vegetable bed. He walked across it like a tightrope and bounded into the plot next door, using the shared fence as a springboard.
“What a hussy,” she muttered. “Shauna shows up, and he dumps me, just like that.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Rose sighed dramatically. “Shauna keeps freeze-dried chicken in her shed. I just can’t compete with that.”
“I don’t know, you were looking for a home for your chickens just now…”
“You—!” She thumped her fist against my shoulder.
“Ow, ow.” I laughed, moving out of her line of fire. “Okay, okay, that was too far.”
“At least you know it.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Why are you here?”
I blinked at her. Was she being serious?
Of course, she was.
This was Rose.
I had no doubt she’d forgotten that she’d called me here only an hour ago.
“You called me and said, and I quote, ‘get your stupid upper-class arse to the allotments within the next hour if you have any desire to see your next birthday.’ I would like to see my birthday, and as there’s little doubt in my mind that you’ll actually follow through on that threat, here I am.”
She scratched behind her ear. “Huh. I did say that, didn’t I?”
“It’s also in our messages if you don’t remember, since you decided to also put it in writing to emphasize your point.”
“No, no, it’s fine, that sounds like something I’d say.
Especially to you.” She dropped her hand and shrugged.
“Oh, that’s right. There’s an empty plot that needs the shed and greenhouse to be taken down.
Big Benny died last year, and his kids have tried and failed to keep up with his plot—got black thumbs, apparently.
We were going to have someone else take it over, but, well.
You know.” She waved her hand towards me dismissively.
“So, you need to take them down for me.”
I cleared my throat. “Why do I have to do it?”
“Because we wouldn’t have to take them down if it weren’t for you, so suck it up.”
That was a very fair argument.
But… “No can do. I didn’t know you were roping me into physical labour, so I’m not exactly dressed for it.” I motioned to my shirt. “I’ll come back another day.”
“That wasn’t our deal. You still owe me your time. And you’re the idiot for showing up here not appropriately dressed. Why would I be calling you to the allotments for something other than physical labour?”
Yet another very fair point.
“Yes, yes. Also, you’re supposed to give me more notice than an hour.” I leant against the gate, folding my arms across my chest. “You’re the one who broke the terms.”
“Well, you’re breaking my heart by closing the allotments, so get over it.”
You’re breaking my heart.
Her words hit me right in mine. It wasn’t even a sucker punch, but a crushing weight, one that threatened to make me choke under it.
Fuck.
“What if I—”
“One more word, George, and I will beat you with my hosepipe!” Susan snapped, stomping towards her plot.
George was rushing along behind her, hobbling slightly. “I was just—”
“I don’t want to hear it today! I’ve had one heck of a bloody morning, and I don’t have it in me to listen to your codswallop!”
Rose jerked around. “Crikey, Susan’s bringing out the naughty words today. She must be angry.”
Were the naughty words in the room with us?
“Susan, I’m just trying to tell you that I—oh, good morning,” George said when he noticed me. “Rose, will you stop flirting and sort her out?”
“Who’s flirting?” she shot back before I could return his greeting. “I’m here to put him to work, but he’s overdressed. Give him something to do since he’s here, would you? And what did you do to Susan?”
“Why do you assume I did anythin’?”
“Because it’s usually your fault.”
George opened his mouth to argue, then quickly dipped his head, grumbling under his breath about, “That little menace.”
“What did you just call me?” Rose asked.
“Christ, girl, you got four ears or somethin’?” the old man retorted, straightening his hat. “Just go and see to that woman before she explodes.”
Rose huffed, then looked at me pointedly. “If it wasn’t George, was it you?”
I pointed to myself. “Me? What could I possibly have done to Susan this morning? I came straight here after your threat. I haven’t even spoken to her yet.”
“Lucky her,” she muttered. “Just checking. It’s usually one of you two doing something, after all.”
Like George, I was about to protest but quickly gave up.
She was on the ball today. There was no arguing with her.
“Susan,” she sang, crossing to their shared fence. “What’s wrong with my favourite neighbour?”
Susan whipped her head around. “Oh, Rose, some rabid young punk has dented my car.”
“What a bastard,” Rose replied without missing a beat. “Do you know who it was?”
“Troy Green.”
She snorted. “Figures. God knows how that idiot passed his test. The only thing he can drive is everyone to insanity.”
She was a fine one to talk.
“He didn’t hit and run, did he? Is it bad? You’re not injured, right?”
Susan waved her hands. “I’m fine. He parked like a prat and nudged my boot.”
George snorted. “Is that it? One little dent in your boot and you’re this angry? Good grief, woman. Just pop it back out.”
“I’ve tried!” she snarled, turning around. “I was going to trade it in, and he’s just cost me money.”
“Ha! You’d be lucky to get a packet of crisps for that banger!”
“If you’re not going to be helpful, be quiet, George,” Rose said, glaring at him before turning back to Susan. “How bad is it?”
Susan pulled her phone out of her pocket and squinted at it. “I took a picture of it, but I—oh, blast it all.”
“I got it.” Rose leant over and plucked the phone out of her hands. “Wait, if I go through your pictures, I’m not going to find your nudes, am I?”
“Rose!” The older woman froze, then burst out laughing. “Oh, for goodness’ sake.”
Rose grinned.
I just about managed to hide my own. It really was no wonder everyone loved Rose—she had a way of brightening everything around her, bringing a laugh to even the most frustrated people.
I knew that because Susan was pretty damn frustrated right now.
“Oh, is that it? I hate to say George is right—actually, I hate to say any man is right as a matter of principle—but it happens so infrequently that I’ll give him this,” Rose said after a moment.
“It just needs popping out. I have a tool for that in my shed. Hang on.” She handed back the phone and darted into the abyss.
I frowned. Was there anything she didn’t have in that shed?
“Tah-dah!” She emerged from the shed, wielding a—
“Is that a dildo?” George exclaimed, taking a step back.
—Bright pink dildo like a sword.
And, no.
Apparently, she did have everything in her shed.
Rose wiggled it in his direction. “Correct, sir. This is a good ol’ fashioned dildo.”
I pressed my fist to my mouth. “I’d ask why it’s in your shed, but I don’t think I’ll like the answer.”
After all, I knew what happened in that shed.
She shot me a glare and flipped the dildo around, showing the end of it. “These things have great suction. Trust me. It’ll pull the dent right out.”
I wasn’t going to ask how she knew about the suction capabilities of a dildo.
I wasn’t sure my heart could take it.