(Vegetables) Chapter Fifteen: Knock Knock. Who’s There? A Series Of Strange Visitors

Morwen had just got home when the doorbell rang. It was the schoolgirl from the bookshop, carrying a tuba case on her back⁴³.

“Hi,” said the girl brightly. “I’m collecting old cook books, for charity! Do you happen to have any you’d like to get rid of?”

“What charity?”

“Er... Save the Gardens,” said the schoolgirl. “It’s a really good cause!”

Morwen was unsurprisingly not convinced.

“Sorry, but I’ve not got any cookbooks I’d like to get rid of.”

“Are you sure?” The schoolgirl looked at her pleadingly. “It’s a really good cause!”

“No, goodbye,” said Morwen, and she shut the door, firmly.

“Save the Gardens?” she said to herself. “If it’s such a good cause, why haven’t I heard about it before? Ha, rubbish!”

She made herself a cup of tea. The doorbell rang again.

“Hello,” said a bald man wearing a navy sweatshirt with the embroidered logo of National Gas on it.

“I’m here to read the meter,” he said.

Morwen gave him a look⁴⁴.

“We don’t have gas,” she said.

A look of desperation crossed his face.

“Are you sure?” he said. “Perhaps I can just come in to check?”

“I’m sure,” she said, and shut the door on him⁴⁵.

She was out in the back garden, picking some lettuce for a salad and being watched hopefully by the chickens in case she suddenly dropped any corn, when the doorbell went for a third time.

“Oh for pity’s sake,” she snapped, dumping the lettuce on the counter and leaving the back door ajar.

This time it was a policeman. A young one, dressed in particularly tight trousers.

“Sorry to bother you, miss,” he said. “But I’ve had a report that you’ve been in receipt of stolen property.”

“What?” said Morwen, incredulously.

“It’s a book,” he continued. “Can I come in?”

“Let me guess,” said Morwen. “The Art and Science of Fruit and Vegetable’s?”

The policeman nodded.

“Hang on just a minute,” said Morwen, as a loud, outraged squawking came from the back garden.

She went into the kitchen. Gingernut the chicken was standing on the back door step, clucking in an affronted manner. She shooed her away and closed the door, grabbed the book in question, and took it to where the policeman was standing patiently by the open front door.

“See?” she said, showing him the book, and also the receipt for buying it which she’d tucked into the book to use as a bookmark. “All legal and above board. If it was stolen, you’ll have to take it up with the booksellers.”

“Hmmm,” said the policeman. “I’ll still need to take the book in as evidence.”

Morwen noticed he’d started sweating. Something was not right here.

“I don’t think so,” she said firmly. “If you really do need it, come back with a warrant. Goodbye.”

And she shut and locked the door firmly.

In the kitchen she stepped into something soft, smelly and slightly damp.

“Oh God, what now!”

She looked down at her foot.

“Ewwww! Bloody rabbit pooing on my kitchen floor!!”

Morwen was bleaching the kitchen floor and ignoring every and all rings on the doorbell when her phone rang with “This is the Dawning of the Age of Aquarius”.

“Hey Rosa,” she said. “What’s up?”

“What’s up is you can darn well come to the front door and open up! You’ve left the key in the lock and I’ve been ringing the doorbell for ages!”

Morwen hurried to the door and opened it.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s been a weird few hours for people trying to get in.”

There was a squawk from an upstairs window, and a flurry of wings. They looked up, just in time to see a pigeon plummet towards the ground before it somehow straightened out from its dive and flew off unsteadily down the road.

“Got it,” said a satisfied voice.

It was Felindre, carefully putting a slingshot back into her handbag.

“Little git was trying to get in through the open window up there,” she said.

“Be careful,” warned Rosa in a worried tone. “Snowball gets up there sometimes.”

“Don’t worry,” reassured Felindre. “ I can tell the difference between a chicken and a pigeon, even if the chicken has white feathers.”

“Just what is it about today?” moaned Morwen. “First scary little old ladies, then rabbit poo and people desperate to get their hands on a flipping cookbook!”

“Come on,” said Rosa. “I’ll make some tea, and you can tell us all about it.”

“Better break out the chocolate biscuits too,” said Morwen glumly.

“I’ve got a bit of random news,” said Rosa. “Apparently there’s been a series of break-ins in toyshops all around the country. Been going on for months.”

“Oh?” said Morwen, disinterestedly while rummaging in the cupboard for the biscuits.

“Yeah,” replied Rosa. “But the weird thing is, the only things that were taken were the water pistols. And we’re not talking about the low end dribblers here, we’re talking the hundred quid, shoots water for six feet, guaranteed soakers.”

“Who’d be after those?” Felindre asked, getting the milk out.

“Dunno,” said Rosa. “Someone planning the world’s biggest water fight?”

___

⁴³ There was a black banana lying in the gutter near her feet.
⁴⁴ Kind of a cross between exasperated parent and disapproving school teacher.
⁴⁵ He was about to try sticking his foot in the door, but moved it at the last minute. Sensible of him.