(Vegetables) Chapter Twenty: Finally, We Get Some Explanations (Of A Sort)

“Barbra’s not happy with me,” said Rosa, in the kitchen after they’d seen to the wounded chicken.

“Why not?” asked Morwen. “Or should I ask, why now?”

“You know those carrot and orange fairy cakes that I brought home?”

“The ones not even the chickens would eat?” asked Richard.

“Yup,” confirmed Rosa. “Well, Barbra made them, and was really pleased when they all disappeared from the office kitchen. She wasn’t too happy when she saw the ones in the bin though. And she caught me shoving the others in a bag.”

Morwen was chopping carrots and potatoes for dinner.

“So I was thinking,” continued Rosa. “There’s a recipe in the book for artichoke and butterbean pie which says: for the removal of inconvenient memories. I was wondering if you’d make it for me, Mor, and I can give it to her and make her forget about the carrot and orange cakes. Whaddya think?”

“I don’t know, Rosa, I’m a bit nervous about mucking around with those recipes now I know what it is they actually do. Or think they do.”

Richard looked quizzically at Morwen.

“Are you suggesting,” he said, “that the reason people have been trying to get their hands on that book is because it’s full of the recipes for magic food?”

“Yeah,” said Rosa brightly. “Please Mor?”

“I need to think about it,” Morwen hedged.

“Pleeeeaaase?”

“I said I’d think about it! And don’t you even think about trying to make it yourself!”

“Ok,” said Rosa. Her mobile beeped, and she read the text message aloud.

“Your ruler Uranus joins with Mars to give you awesome willpower. You can shimmer magically this week. Now is not the time to make a fuss.”

She looked at the kitchen clock.

“Oooh, time for Feasts with Friends.” And she wandered off to the living room.

Richard watched Morwen as she put the chopped vegetables into a large saucepan. Her back was to him, and she looked a bit nervous.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said, without turning around.

“Been a bit of a weird few days,” he said, “what with the whole cake fight and attempted burglary and things.”

Morwen didn’t say anything as she put the saucepan onto the hob and turned on the electric ring.

“Morwen?” asked Richard.

“I want to tell you something,” she said. “I was just looking for the right moment.”

She looked at him then, an unreadable expression on her face.

“And there’s a lot of stuff we need to talk about.”

“True,” said Richard cautiously. “We did promise to be honest.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Thing is, that recipe book. The chocolate and beetroot cake I made a few weeks ago? I think I might have accidentally love potioned you.”

She looked really nervous.

“Is that all?” he asked, obviously relieved.

“Isn’t it enough?”

“Well, firstly, I don’t believe in magic. Secondly, it was a very nice cake, but I didn’t feel any different to you after eating it than before. And thirdly, you ate it too.”

“But you called me ‘love’ that night.”

“Did I? Oh.”

Morwen frowned.

Richard looked worried. “Did that freak you out?”

Morwen laughed. “I was half asleep, so no, not really. But I would like to know how you really feel about me.”

She bit her lip.

Richard stood up and walked over to her. He tilted her chin upwards gently, and kissed her.

Morwen’s phone rang, with an ear-splittingly loud call⁵⁸.

They both laughed.

“Now that’s how to ruin the moment,” said Morwen, smiling.

She reached for her phone, which cut off mid-ring.

“Unknown caller,” she said, looking at it. “If it’s important they’ll leave a message. Now, where were we?”

She was just about to kiss Richard again, when her phone rang again⁵⁹. It was another, or possibly the same, unknown caller, who rang off just as Morwen touched the phone.

“That phone just doesn’t like me,” said Richard.

Their third kiss was interrupted by the saucepan of potatoes boiling over.

“The world seems against us,” said Morwen. “Let’s save this for later. Besides, you’ve got to do a bit of explaining to me too.”

“You might not believe me,” warned Richard.

“Honey, after nearly being caught in a riot-slash-food fight, being threatened by a little old lady with a silver cucumber, and nearly being burgled by someone using a carrot as a lock pick, I don’t think there’s anything that could surprise me.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said. “Here goes: I’m not actually a computer programmer.”

“Oh,” said Morwen flatly. “That’s a real shock.”

Richard grinned.

“Stop being sarky,” he said. “I haven’t finished yet.”

“I beg your pardon,” said Morwen. “Please continue. Tea? Coffee?”

“Coffee please. I’m actually a secret agent. I work for the Agency, who are an organisation dedicated to protecting the vast majority of humanity from forces outside their knowledge.”

“Let me guess, aliens?”

“No,” said Richard. “Well, not often,” he amended.

“Monsters?” Morwen guessed.

“Occasionally,” he replied.

“Vampires?”

“No, they’re sulking at the moment, after the whole Twilight debacle. No self-respecting vampire will dare admit the fact now, just in case they get plagued by a load of teenage girls, all clamouring to see them sparkle.”

“Werewolves?”

“They’re in hiding because of the Twilight thing too. It’s a bit hard being a self-respecting creature of the night nowadays.”

“Zombies?”

“They prefer to be known as ‘metabolically challenged’. And they’re lying low too, too many people around whose first instinct is to go for the head when they see them.”

“Witches?”

“I think there’s one on staff in the New York office. Or maybe she’s just a hippy.”

“Ok, I give up,” said Morwen. “So, who do you defend humanity against?”

“Well,” said Richard, “it’s mainly little stuff. Stopping the turf wars between sheep and cows spilling out from the countryside. Keeping an eye on the mice, some of them have delusions of show business. But mainly it’s keeping track of those evil geniuses that insist on trying to take over the world.”

“Really?”

“Really. Thankfully most of them are cats, and even though cats make excellent evil geniuses, they’re far too thick to do any real damage. Plus, they’re lazy sods. No, it’s the human evil geniuses you really have to watch out for. My first introduction to the Agency was when I and some others got kidnapped by a part human, part clockwork evil genius, and wound up having to stop a giant, clockwork Valkerie from obliterating New York City.”

Morwen put a cup of coffee down in front of him.

“Ok,” she said slowly. “That is weird.”

“Told you,” he said.

“How come you’re telling me this anyway? Surely it’s all secret and stuff?”

“Well, yes, but I did promise to be honest with you. And you need to know there’s more to life than you’d think. Like those pigeons that were following Felindre around. They were working for someone, but I don’t know who. Though I have my suspicions.”

Richard paused for a drink of coffee.

“Besides,” he said, “we’ve pretty much got leeway to tell people if we think they need to know. Who’s going to go around blabbing anyway? People would think you’re nuts.”

“Yes,” said Morwen slowly, “they would, wouldn’t they?”

“Oh God,” said Richard, seeing the look on her face. “You think I’m nuts, don’t you? Hang on.”

He opened the back door, opened it and whistled. The chickens flocked around him.

“Ladies,” he said to them, “I’ve told Morwen about the Agency, and you know I am who I say I am. But I’m afraid she thinks I’m nuts. Any chance you could help convince her I’m not?”

There was a chorus of clucking, and some shuffling around.

“Please?” he said. “I’ll add an extra couple of perches and a new dust bath to your run.”

One hen, Kimberley, tilted her head to look him straight in the eye and clucked, then the rest of the flock wandered off again. Kimberley clucked at Richard again, and he stepped aside, waiting for her to come into the kitchen.

She stood on the step, waiting and looking at Morwen expectantly.

“Oh, alright,” said Morwen, catching on as both the hen and Richard looked at her, expectantly. “You can come in the house – just this once!”

Calmly the chicken walked into the kitchen and scratched at the floor.

Morwen looked on, completely bemused.

Kimberley scratched at the floor again, and looked at Richard expectantly.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. Then, to Morwen:

“Have you got any flour, or sugar, or something like that?”

“In that cupboard,” she replied, still watching the chicken.

“I’ll tidy up, I promise,” Richard said as he tipped a load of flour onto the floor.

The chicken pounced on it, and started scratching. After a few minutes of scratching and jumping back to look at the scratches, she clucked contentedly and walked out the door.

There were marks in the flour. They said:

“ricard AGencee man

“he gud

“mo trusst him”

Morwen just stared.

“Lovely birds, chickens,” said Richard. “Shame they can’t spell for toffee though.”

Calmly he swept the flour up off the floor and dumped it in the bin.

“You ok?” he asked Morwen, who was just staring at the floor.

“Yeah,” she said, looking up and giving him a faint smile. “You know, that explains an awful lot about the world. If humans are being manipulated by animals, it explains our messed up society and economy and stuff. ”

“No, sorry,” said Richard. “That’s all our fault. Though we can blame the ducks for the continued success of sitcoms. They’ve a funny sense of humour.”

“What about the rabbits?” asked Morwen.

“Pure, unadulterated evil, but not too bright,” said Richard. “Though we think the white rabbits have developed time travel, but have come unstuck in time for some reason.”

“Well, that explains the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland then. So, what’s the craziest case you’ve ever been on?”

“Well,” said Richard. “Aside from the Valkerie episode, there was the time that a magpie tried to steal the crown jewels. Painted herself completely black, and snuck into the Tower pretending to be a raven. Got all the way into the vault too, and would have got away with the crown jewels except for some reason she preferred the tinfoil one of the guards had wrapped around his sandwiches. And then there’s the snails.”

“What about the snails?” asked Morwen.

“We’re pretty sure they’re up to something, but we don’t know what, and they’re just so damn slow at doing anything. It could take years before we find out what the first step is. Of course, by then it might be too late.”

“I guess we’ll just have to be prepared to welcome our new mollusc overlords then.”

A funny look crossed over Richard’s face, as something he’d heard earlier made contact with his brain⁶⁰.

“What’s the name of Rosa’s boss again? The one she wants to do a memory spell on?”

“Barbra, why?”

“Barbara?”

“No, Barbra, definitely.”

Richard turned pale.

“Not Barbra Allen by any chance?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s her,” Morwen said. “Why?”

“Oh crap,” said Richard. “That is so not good.”

Morwen looked puzzled and worried.

Richard elaborated: “Long story short, chief henchwoman to previously mentioned evil genius with clockwork Valkerie.”

“Oh,” she said. “Arse. What are we going to tell Rosa?”

___

⁵⁸ A cross between an air raid siren, and a vomiting Apatosaurus.
⁵⁹ The ring tone this time was the unholy offspring of fire alarm and dubstep.
⁶⁰ Took long enough.