(Vegetables) Chapter Twelve: The Prodigals Return, In More Ways Than One

Morwen found her phone at the bottom of her handbag the next day.

“There you are!” she said to it. “I’ve turned that bag out half a dozen times at least yesterday, with no sign of you. Where have you been?”

The phone didn’t answer, but then Morwen didn’t really expect it to.

Rosa called from the kitchen, where she was peeling a hard-boiled egg.

“Hey, this egg’s got a square yolk! That’s really cool!”

There was a scrabbling sound from the roof. Rosa stuck her head out the kitchen window, looked up and sighed.

“Better get the ladder,” she told Morwen. “Snowball’s stuck on the roof again.”

Morwen was out in the back garden, dealing with her emotions by viciously weeding in the fenced off area that was her vegetable patch. The chickens were roaming free range in the rest of the garden, with Snowball, newly rescued from the roof, perched watchfully on top of the roof of the henhouse. All the hens looked up expectantly, when Richard knocked on the door.

Rosa answered it.

“You’ve got a nerve,” she said when she saw him. “I hope you’ve come to apologise.”

“I came to make sure you’re all ok,” said Richard.

“Well, Morwen’s had her heart broken by an insensitive, jealous and an over-possessive clod who she had a fight with and now won’t return her calls. Fel’s being followed around and stared at by pigeons, and can’t get the cake crumbs out from under her nails, and I just know I’m going to be yelled at by my boss at the very least tomorrow, or fired, and I’m honestly not sure what’s worse. And my horoscope says that an employer or relative won’t understand my reasons for coming to a certain decision. So we could all be better.”

“Is she in? Morwen?”

Rosa sighed.

“This is against my better judgement,” she said. “But Mor’s horoscope today said to not make a mountain out of a molehill while opportunities come her way, so I’m taking it to mean that she should be forgiving. And it said that like the Moon, a relationship would enter a new phase. And if she daydreamed she’d be able to access parts of herself that time doesn’t always allow. I haven’t told her that though.”

Rosa paused and gave Richard what she thought was a steely glare³⁵.

“If you upset her again, there’ll be trouble.”

“I came to apologise,” confessed Richard. “And beg for forgiveness.”

“Alright then. She’s in the garden.”

As soon as Richard set foot in the garden, a dozen beady avian eyes turned to stare at him. These belonged to half a dozen chickens. They did not look impressed. In fact, they almost looked homicidal. Rosa should take lessons from them on giving dirty looks.

“Rosa,” said Morwen, without turning around. “We’ve got a rabbit problem. They’ve been eating my cabbages. And they’re annoying the chickens.”

“How do you know?” asked Richard.

Morwen turned to look at him. She didn’t look too happy to see him either.

“Er, hi?” said Richard, looking very nervous.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “And think very carefully before you answer. I have a pitchfork and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“I came to apologise,” said Richard. “I’ve tried calling, but your phone rings and rings and you never pick up. So I thought I’d come over instead.”

Morwen frowned. “But I haven’t seen any missed calls from you. I’ve not seen anything from you. And when I’ve tried ringing you it just rings and rings too.”

“I think your phone may not like me very much,”³⁶ said Richard, flexing his bandaged hand.

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Nothing, er, what I meant to say was that I’ve been trying to get hold of you for ages now, and I wanted to say how sorry I am for being a jealous, insensitive clod. I don’t know where we’re going, Morwen, but I do really want to find out.”

Morwen’s knuckles tightened around the pitchfork handle, and she stabbed it roughly into the ground.

The chickens were still staring at Richard. He stood stock still, looking like he was holding his breath.

“If we’re going to be together,” Morwen said firmly, “we need to trust each other. If you can’t do that, then you know where the door is.”

“Ok,” said Richard. “Ask me anything – I’ll tell you the truth.”

Morwen stared at him for two and a half minutes, her expression unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally. “I won’t bother you again.”³⁷

He turned to leave.

“Wait!” said Morwen³⁸.

“Cabbage or carrots with nut roast?” she asked.

The chickens, as one, stopped staring, and went back to scratching and doing chicken things.

“Both?” suggested Richard, uncertainly.

“Good answer,” she replied, and smiled.



Felindre arrived for dinner looking very harried, and a bit wet while Morwen was upstairs sorting something out.

“I swear,” she said, shaking her umbrella outside the door. “I’m going to start carrying a slingshot with me, and then heaven help any pigeon that gets close. Bloody things.”

She stopped dead and stared at Richard.

“What,” she said shortly, “is he doing here?”

Rosa came up to her and gave her a hug.

“Mor’s forgiven him,” she said. “Go figure.”

Felindre gave him a look to suggest that even if Morwen had forgiven him, she hadn’t and was perfectly prepared to do something nasty to him if he screwed up again³⁹.

Richard looked serious. He nodded slightly, acknowledging the situation.

“Did you say that the pigeons are following you?” he asked Felindre seriously.

She nodded.

“’Please excuse me,” he said. “I just need to pop out and make a call for a minute.”

“Weird much?” muttered Rosa, as he walked out the back door into the garden. She looked out the window.

“He’s only bent down and talking to the chickens now,” she continued. “What does Morwen see in men anyway?”

“Women are crazy,” replied Felindre absently, still watching Richard, who was still in deep conversation with the hens.

“Love you too,” smiled Rosa.
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³⁵ It wasn’t
³⁶ Understatement, that.
³⁷ Yes!
³⁸ Damn.
³⁹ Rosa should have taken some lessons in the dirty looks department from her too.