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.
Quite some time later, in the privacy of in my office I allowed myself a small meltdown in Ben’s large embrace. He held me while I shed the tears that would seriously embarrass me if anyone but Ben saw them. When I was at the gulping and snot stage he offered me a large handkerchief.
“It was just…” I struggled for the words, and I couldn’t carry on.
“Morgan being punched in the face?”
I nodded miserably, and he smoothed the hair back from my forehead.
“I know, love, but it’s not on you.”
“No Joss, it’s not.”
The deep imperturbable voice made me jump.
“Mark. What the feck are you doing here?”
He smiled kindly, although the set of his chin boded ill for someone.
“I’m here because Morgan knew it wouldn’t be long before you started blaming yourself. She says we oldies are to stop reacting and apply our intelligence to working out the why.”
I could hear Morgan saying it and felt my smile grow.
“She really is a pistol isn’t she?” Ben’s voice was warm with appreciation of her courage and pragmatism.
“She is.” Mark chuckled. “I’ll always love her for her mother’s sake and for her sweet smile, but she’s such a brave little soldier that I also admire her almost beyond words.”
“Me too,” Ben agreed, “and I don’t forget that her ability with a baseball bat saved Joss’ life.”
I found a small thread of a voice. “So what’d we do?”
Mark snapped his teeth together and I was reminded of the alpha predator that lurked under his normally urbane persona.
“We take steps.”
“What steps?”
“Some rather angry people visit the Proudly family. And we beef up your security until such time as this shitfest is sorted.”
I poked him in the chest.
“More security might be helpful. But. We can’t afford it.”
“Oh. You won’t be paying.”
“Mark. No. You can’t afford to guard us for nothing.”
His smile was just on the acceptable side of smug. “You won’t be paying, and we won’t be losing out. The family Proudly was warned that there would be financial consequences to any further attempts to intimidate you or any of your staff. They have overstepped, and now they’re going to pay. The first bill will be delivered along with a stern talking to.”
I frowned. “Are you sure the Proudlys were responsible for today’s attack?”
“We are. Young Andrew recently got himself a new girlfriend, who managed to drop some acid with her pillow talk. Her name is Margarita Proudly. She’s the younger sister of a certain female with an agenda. Andrew became convinced that you and I are doing the dirty on the side, and that Morgan was the result of an affair between Debs and a married man. Namely my cousin James.”
“Simeon’s dad?”
“The very man. He is not happy. Currently on a plane from the Costa del Crime, accompanied by my father. They want words with the family Proudly and to be honest I’m not about to get in their way.”
Ben nodded sagely. “Me neither. And maybe they can shake some information out of someone…”
“They should take Finoula with them,” I said. “They can intimidate physically, and she can scare the shit out of them with the power of her mind.”
Mark patted me on the head and Ben managed to pull me away before I bit him.
“That’s a spectacularly dim thing to do.” I snarled.
Mark looked puzzled. “Why?”
“Because I’m neither a clever toddler nor a fucking dog.”
“What…”
Then his brain caught up with his mouth.
“That was both stupid and patronising and I have no excuse beyond how hard the damage to Morgan’s little face hit me. It was like a trip back to when you were almost killed, Joss. And it bites.”
Ben nodded. “It does. It bites hard. And I might even have patted you, babe, had I not had my card marked in that area a long time ago.”
I remembered the occasion quite well, and it wasn’t really all that long ago, but I decided not to argue the date as I could see how upset both men were. Instead I lifted a shoulder and spread my hands in a gesture of defeat.
“Okay. Mark gets a pass this once.”
I looked into his sombre eyes.
“Don’t sweat it. Morgan isn’t. Because she trusts us to get it sorted. And we will.”
Ben bent and rubbed his face against mine.
“You’re right. As usual. What would you do next?”
“I think you and Mark need to go and visit Finoula.”
Mark nodded. “We do, but not until you have been introduced to your new group of ‘employees’.”
There were a dozen thick-shouldered hard-handed guys waiting in the bar. These weren’t young lads, and I recognised none of them. I shook hands all round, tried to memorise names and attempted to work out where the troops had come from.
The oldest guy caught on to my puzzlement.
“We work for Connor Smith. Our boss told the Proudly crew to stand down. Only they never done as they was told. Mister Smith don’t like to be disrespected. And he likes your food. So we’re here to make sure there’s no more backsliding.”
He smiled a crocodile smile, but dropped me a wink that made him look more human.
“We’ve got a bus to live in. Is there anywhere we can park her?”
Ben and I shared a moment of memories before he nodded briefly.
“We do indeed have a decent bit of hardstanding with electric hookup, water, and an outside loo where you can empty your waste tanks.”
“Thanks. Mostly we have to explain our needs in words of one syllable. And even then…”
“Yeah. I get that. But we have a Winnebago in the big barn out back, and when we first came here, as holiday relief, we parked Winnie right where you can put your bus.”
I left the men to sort themselves out and went over to the ice cream parlour where the afternoon shift was in full swing. Needless to say, the ‘girls’ on duty, actually a pair of sisters in their mid forties, had already heard what happened to Morgan. They were inclined to be indignant, but not worried for themselves.
“We’ve got good jobs here. And we’re quite able to take care of ourselves.”
I looked at their brawny arms and thought that was probably true. Then I found myself serving ice-cream cones from the recently repurposed window while the pair of them ran the cafe with practised efficiency. By the time we closed the doors at six o’clock my respect for the team, and for Morgan’s planning, knew no bounds. We cleared up briskly and they got their coats.
“Thank you ladies.”
I handed each of them a folded twenty. Both notes disappeared into capacious handbags and the duo grinned at me.
“You didn’t need to do that, but it’s welcome.”
I waved them off and wandered over to see how things were going in the pub. Thankfully, although busy, we didn’t seem to have attracted any moaners or would-be con artists and everything was running as it should. Heaving an inward sigh of relief I hoisted my backside onto a bar stool and ordered a large gin and tonic. I felt, rather than heard, Ben come up behind me.
“Slacking are we?”
“Too right I am. You got time for a pint or will your boss give you the elbow?”
He chuckled and bellied up to the bar.
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.
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