(Vegetables) Chapter Seventeen: Did You Know Carrots Could Be Used For That?

The chickens were restless that night. Rosa could hear them in their coop, rattling their beaks against the wire, even though it was dark.

She was going to roll over and go back to sleep, when she heard a loud, outraged squawking.

“Oh crap,” she said, sitting up in bed. “Fox!”

She poked Felindre, who was awake in an instant, and Morwen, who needed shaking. The three of them, armed with torches, went down to investigate. Felindre had her slingshot, Morwen her pitchfork. Rosa made do with the mop that lived in the corner behind the back door.

The only thing they saw was a rabbit, for a split second, before it bounded off into the hedge. Rosa threw the mop at it, but missed.

“Was it just me?” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Or was that rabbit glowing green?”

They all jumped a mile as a loud banging came from the front door. They ran through the house and threw open the front door, pitchfork and other weapons held ready for action.

Richard stood on the other side of the door, breathing heavily and looking dishevelled. He was holding something in both hands, pressed up against the wall next to the door. When he saw the three, he let go, and there was a muffled “oof” as something heavy fell to the ground.

“Er, hi,” he said, shuffling sideways to block the women’s view of whatever it was on the floor. “Everything ok?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” asked Morwen, trying to peer around him.

“Well, you did call.”

“No, I didn’t,” said Morwen.

Lights were turning on in the neighbouring houses.

Richard was looking really embarrassed now. From beside him came the sounds of someone trying to shuffle away quietly, and failing.

Felindre stepped out of the door and looked behind Richard.

“Richard,” she said. “Why is there a man with a carrot on the ground behind you?”

The man with the carrot scrabbled to his feet and started running down the street.

“I caught him trying to pick the lock on the front door.”

“With a carrot?” said Rosa incredulously.

Felindre pulled back on the slingshot, and fired. The young man fell over and yelled “Ow!”

Felindre casually walked down the road to the man and very casually dragged him back to the group.⁴⁹

“Hey, I know you,” said Morwen. “You were the policeman who came around earlier today, wanting to take my cookbook away.”

She looked at the scene – out-of-uniform policeman, looking even younger than before, still clutching carrot. Felindre, holding said out-of-uniform policeman (who was at least double her size) in a half Nelson. Richard, looking at the same time embarrassed and dangerous. And Rosa, wearing fluffy slippers, an open dressing gown and a very skimpy pink lace night dress. She sighed.

“I think you’d all better come inside,” she said.




They gathered in the living room, standing around the out-of-uniform-policeman as he sat on armchair.

“You,” said Felindre. “You’re not a real policeman, are you? Start talking.”

She crossed her arms and looked fierce.

The young man was alternating between rubbing his calf, where Felindre’s shot had caught him, and his shoulder, where she’d held him.

“That really hurt,” he said. “And it’ll bruise!”

Felindre glared at him and uncrossed her arms. He flinched back and said:

“Ok! Ok! No, I’m not a real policeman. And I had to get that book from you, one way or another. So when you wouldn’t give it to me, I had to break in and steal it. I wasn’t going to hurt anyone or anything. You’d never have noticed I was there! Honestly!!”

“Except my book would have been missing,” said Morwen.

“Well, yeah,” said the not-policeman.

“Why a carrot?” asked Rosa.

“I needed something to pick the lock.”

“Yes, but why a carrot?”

He shrugged.

“It was what I got given. And it was working too, until he showed up.”

And he shot a furious look at Richard.

“Believe me,” said Morwen quietly. “He’s got some explaining to do tonight too.”

“Who told you to get the book?” asked Felindre.

“I’d rather not say,” stammered the not-policeman.

Felindre flexed her fingers.

He swallowed, and went even paler.

“Rosa,” said Felindre calmy. “Be a sweetie and fetch the cheese grater.”

Rosa blanched.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice quavering. “That’s a bit, er, extreme...”

“Just do it,” ordered Felindre.

“Ok,” said Rosa, dubiously. She stopped at the living room door to shoot the not-policeman a look of pity.

“No! Wait!” he called. “It was Mrs K.”

He looked around at the blank faces around him. The women were definitely clueless, though Richard’s face looked more frozen than not understanding.

“Mrs K?” he prompted. “Little old lady? Black cane with a silver handle shaped like a cucumber? Smells of lavender? Seriously scary?”

“Oh, her!” said Morwen. “Yes, I know her.”

“She told me to get the book by whatever means necessary,” he continued. “Otherwise I’d be blacklisted in the Order, and I’d never be able to open my own shop. And she threatened to… er… take my rabbits away from me.”⁵⁰

He looked so woeful that Rosa started feeling sorry for him.

“Rabbits?” she said, coming back into the room. “How many?”

“Rosa, focus!” said Felindre. “He tried to break in and steal from us, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” muttered Rosa.

“I’m really sorry!” the not-policeman wailed. “But my dad would be so disappointed if I got black-listed – the family’s been part of the order for generations!”

“What order?” asked Morwen.

“The Most Ancient and Noble Order of Greengrocer’s,” sniffed the young man.

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say: the most ancient and noble order of what?” said Rosa.

“Greengrocer’s,” he said.

“Greengrocers?” said Morwen.

“Greengrocer’s,” he confirmed.

“Greengrocer’s what?” asked Felindre.

“Just Greengrocer’s.”

“How ancient?” asked Rosa.

“Founded in 1976,” he mumbled.

Everyone looked at everyone else for a moment.

“Look, can I go now?” the young man asked. “I promise I won’t come back ever again.”

“Richard, you keep an eye on him,” ordered Felindre. “Rosa, Morwen, with me.”

All three went out of the living room and shut the door. Richard and the young man stared at each other for a few moments.

“What’s Mrs K up to, and why is she so keen to get her hands on that book?” asked Richard, looming over the other man threateningly. “And why are the rabbits involved?”

“Honestly, I don’t know!”

Richard looked like he was about to resort to more hands on methods of persuasion when the door opened again, and the three women came in, looking determined.

Felindre was the first to speak.

“Against my better judgement, we’ve decided to let you go. But if we see you anywhere near us, or our house, ever again, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Fine by me! I think I’ve decided to change my career path. Maybe move to America and join an accountancy firm! Anything, just something somewhere a long way from here. You’ll never see me again, I promise!”

Morwen interrupted his babbling:

“Just one last question – if you’re not a real policeman, where did you get the uniform from?”

“From my cousin, he’s a strippogram.”⁵¹

Morwen sighed in exasperation, and Rosa looked dreamy for a moment. Felindre looked even more thunderous.
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⁴⁹ Or as casually as was possible for a five foot tall, slender woman, to manhandle a man several tens of centimetres taller, and several kilos heavier. On a nonchalance scale of one to ten, I’d definitely have given it a seven, if not an eight (for sheer style)
⁵⁰ He said this in a tone of voice that suggested that what he was saying was in fact a euphemism, and the reality possibly involved boiling.
⁵¹ Well, that explained the tightness of the trousers.