The Easter Egg Hunt – XII

Since Ben and Joss Beckett took over The Fair Maid and Falcon, they have had to deal with ghosts, gangsters and well dodgy goings-on. Despite that they have their own family of twin daughters and dogs, and a fabulous ‘found family’ of friends. 

The boys headed back to the table, where Roz and Allie leapt on them demanding information.
“Just some rude little boys who needed reminding of their manners.” John grinned at the twins. “Have you fat girls left any pudding for the workers?”
The ensuing battle gave Ben a moment to whisper in my ear.
“Uncle James?”
I had a quick think. “I think, no I’m sure, he’s Mark’s cousin on his dad’s side. But a lot older than Mark. Hence uncle. We met him at one of Debs’ big barbecue bashes. I think he lives in Spain near Mark’s dad.”
Ben’s forehead creased as he sought remembrance. “Oh yeah. I’ve got him. Truly a hard man by the looks. Jaw you could split logs with and shoulders like an ox.”
“Yes. That’s the one I’m thinking of too. I remember being told he has five large sons.
Ben nodded. “The Brown family is almost as far-reaching as a Rom clan.”
“Further, really as the Browns absorb people on merit rather than any racial malarkey.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” He watched the twins assaulting John’s knees, which was about as high as they could comfortably reach, and grinned. “Do you suppose I should rescue him?”
“Possibly. Before the gruesomes hurt their fists.”
And so it was that family, friends, and the running a business that sometimes felt like spinning plates on top of poles, pushed all thought of bad guys and ill intentions to the back of my mind.
Until.
Some three weeks later.
The school holidays had kicked in and the twins were enjoying the fleshpots of Majorca in the company of their doting grandparents. Which might have given me a break if the pub wasn’t insanely busy. We were just winding down after a chaotic and frustrating lunch service, when trouble found us again. I had been pinch-hitting in the kitchen and was helping to sort out a buggers muddle in the tapas kitchen, when Stan and Ollie came to the door with their fur standing on end.
“What is it boys?”
They flattened their ears and Ollie growled deep in his chest.
“Show me.”
They turned and headed towards the back door of the pub. I was about to follow when I was stopped in my tracks by what felt like a giant hand.
“No, Joss. Not that way.” It was the voice of Esme Caunter from the other side. “Go through your home and approach the ice cream shop from the private garden. And take some large men with you.”
“Okay. I have it.”
I slipped out into the bar, where Ben and Simeon were bussing tables. I beckoned them and they came at once.
“The dogs say there’s a problem at the ice cream parlour. And Esme agrees. Says we hafta go in the back way. Sneakily.”
Ed whistled sharply and I turned to look at him. He handed over a couple of weighted baseball bats and a handful of pepper sprays. Normally I’d have been annoyed that he had such an arsenal in his possession, but I was too disturbed to do more than grab a coupe of sprays mid-stride.
“Never go into an unknown situation unarmed.” Ed said starkly.
Ben gave him the thumb and we ran round the front of the pub, slipping through the house and out into the garden. Ben and Simeon are a lot faster than me, and the dogs are faster than them, but we all stuck together, ghosting carefully round the extreme edges of the garden to where the back door of the ice cream parlour stood open.
“Right then, ‘Miss Brown’, or whatever name you’re really entitled to. You just phone your boss and tell her she has five minutes to get over here before we start hurting you.”
“I can’t call her. You have my phone.”
Came the sound of a fist hitting flesh before a second voice spoke.
“She has a point.”
I felt Simeon stiffen beside me and I laid a hand on his arm.
He and Ben leaned down so I could whisper.
“I’ll cause a diversion and you two come in and mop up.”
The nodded grimly.
I stopped creeping and wandered towards the open door. I had my hands in my apron pocket, an armed pepper spray in each hand, and murder in my heart.
“Morgan. Are you okay? You were supposed to come and collect your order of clotted cream.”
The figure in the doorway turned, and I saw it was Andrew from Brown Brothers. The fact that someone who was supposed to be guarding us was abusing Morgan made me very angry indeed. That anger stiffened my spine even further, but I smiled prettily .
“Hi Andrew. You on parlour duty?”
He showed me his teeth in a travesty of a smile.
“You could say that. I’d be more inclined to call it vermin extermination.” He turned and shouted over his shoulder. “Guess what just walked into our trap.”
Taking two big paces towards me he put out a hand to grab. I stepped back and let him have the contents of a pepper spray full in the face. He dragged his hands over his burning eyes and I think he might have screamed had not Simeon erupted out of cover and kicked him in the solar plexus effectively rendering him helpless.
Ben and Simeon passed me at a flying gallop, and I paused only long enough to put Stan and Ollie on guard. I followed my boys inside, with Bud and Lew at my heels.
Morgan was holding her hand to an obviously bruised cheek, while Simeon and Ben each held a young tough by the throat. A third youngster was attempting to make his escape, oozing along the floor like a snake. He might even have got away had Bud not grabbed a mouthful of his gentleman parts and squeezed none too gently .
“He’s a Staffordshire Bull Terrier,” I said conversationally, “and he can bite through two-inch thick wood. If I was you I’d freeze.”
He froze.
“Who hit you, Morgan?” It was Simeon who asked.
“The one you have hold of.”
Simeon dropped his prey and punched twice, before the man had chance to do much as twitch. I hadn’t known a human fist could move that fast and to be honest it was bloody impressive. Grabbing the retching crying figure, Simeon spoke close to his ear.
“You don’t hit women, asshole. And you most certainly don’t hit my woman.”
The smile Morgan bestowed on him could’ve lit the sky, but it was me she spoke to.
“I was supposed to get you over here so they could beat you up. For making a fool of my dad, they said.”
She was obviously shaken, but doing her very best to stand tall. I went over and gave her a swift hug.
“Why are you on your own?”
“Between shifts. I let the girls go. Was just putting up the closed sign when these brave bastards rushed me.” She grabbed my hand. “There’s another one.”
I grinned into her eyes. “Yeah. We dealt with him in the way through. He’s had a face full of pepper spray, and a kick in the solar plexus. And either Stan or Ollie will bite him if he so much as twitches.”
Her expression lightened. “Deep joy. Now, if someone will get my phone out of the pocket of the one laying on the floor pissing himself I’ll call Dad.”
I looked at the prone figure. “Phone. But slowly you wouldn’t want the dogs to get the wrong idea would you?”
After which it was all pretty anticlimactic. Mark sent some men with a van to collect what he called the trash, and I gave Morgan the afternoon off to go and see her mum. Unsurprisingly, Simeon took the time off too. To drive her home and, no doubt, stop for a cuddle on the way.

There will be more from Joss, Ben and their friends, courtesy of Jane Jago, next week, or you can catch up with their earlier adventures in Who Put Her In and Who Pulled Her Out.