Hot Revenge Box Set 4

Richard handles the veg knife like a kid with his first wax crayon, not so much peeling the potatoes as hacking chunks from the outside.

Trying not to be obvious about it, I watch the performance for a few seconds…

He’s going to slice his thumb if he keeps that up…

…. then taking a peeler from the cutlery drawer, I pluck the knife from his hand and replace it with the peeler. “Try that instead.”

He fumbles at the potato, drawing off a sliver of peel. “Ah, yes. That’s much easier.”

Still, I keep half an eye on what he’s doing. “Not that one,” I say, pointing to the potato in his hand. “It’s green.”

“Oh…” Richard stares at the tuber. “There were a few green ones at the top of the sack. Is something wrong with them?”

“You can poison yourself with green potatoes. That’s why you store them in the dark. So they don’t go green.”

“Seriously?” Richard stares at the spud in his hand as though he’s never seen one before. “Poisonous? Potatoes? But I eat them every day.”

“Yes, seriously. They’re from the same family of plants as Belladonna, the Solanaceae. The green parts contain a toxin called solanine.”

Richard regards the tuber in his hand with a sceptical eye.

“Belladonna? Pretty lady?”

“Medieval women used it cosmetically to enlarge their pupils. The alkaloids that achieve the effect are some of the more effective toxins out there.”

Still, he looks dubious.

in flower,” I say. “You’ll see

“How dangerous are they?”

green potatoes to do yourself any real damage. But…” I raise a finger. “Solanine can be dangerous in pregnant women. It’s been linked to

drops open, then striding across the kitchen, he toes

*****

Michael

of James, but Scruffy and Bear sit in one corner, snouts lifted, noses twitching in the direction of

redissolving into the surface. Chunks of sausage and something-or-other-else surface then vanish, nudging aside some

in here while the food’s cooking.” He offers me the bottle, then hovers, sucking at

is a celebration after all,

“Course it is. Back in a

fixedly at me, then transfers his gaze to the hob. Bear isn’t so subtle. He simply stares at the pan, long

thirty seconds I reckon I have before

the dogs. The two halves vanish mid-air with twinned Chops! leaving on a scent of

Why just them?

I fish out another sausage. Just as I’m blowing on it, the door swings, James strolls in, a

Fuck!

blowing air over

a tray, “Perhaps when you’ve finished

the Rioja bottle... “Nice choice by

stirs his pot, flapping a palm as his spectacles mist over. “Choice? Yes, I thought Georgie would appreciate a Spanish meal. We visited my boyhood home several times when she was small, but

I meant was, your email

of kitchen roll. “What email? Damn!”