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.

a potato plant when it’s in flower,” I say. “You’ll see the resemblance then. In any case,

“How dangerous are they?”

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

the kitchen, he toes open the bin and drops

*****

Michael

the kitchen, there’s no sign of James, but Scruffy and Bear sit in one corner, snouts lifted,

bubbles glopping and redissolving into the surface. Chunks of sausage and something-or-other-else

to warm… I’ll serve the meal in the dining room, but we can sit in here while the food’s cooking.” He offers me the bottle, then hovers, sucking at his teeth. “That’s Rioja, to go with the casserole. But perhaps a bottle of cava too? What do you

idea. This is a celebration

beams. “Course it is. Back in a mo.”

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

I reckon I have before James’ return, I fork

each of the dogs. The

Why just them?

on it, the door swings, James strolls in, a bottle of cava

Fuck!

blowing air

bottles into the fridge. Then, stacking plates and cutlery onto a tray, “Perhaps when you’ve finished donating our dinner to Scruffy

my blistered mouth. Fishing a corkscrew from the drawer, I wrestle the cork out of the Rioja bottle... “Nice choice by the

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

Damn!” and he makes a dash for the oven where smoke is