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.

I say. “You’ll see the resemblance

“How dangerous are they?”

any real damage. But…” I raise a finger.

open, then striding across the kitchen, he toes open the

*****

Michael

sign of James, but Scruffy and Bear sit in

lift the lid to some dark red sauce simmering at the bottom, large bubbles glopping and redissolving into the surface. Chunks of sausage

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

idea. This is a celebration after

Back in a mo.” And he vanishes

his gaze to the hob. Bear isn’t so subtle. He simply

door and then with the thirty seconds I reckon I have before James’ return, I fork a sausage, bright orange, scented of chilli,

the dogs. The two halves vanish mid-air

Why just them?

strolls in, a bottle of cava in each hand, and I jam

Fuck!

blowing air over

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

drawer, I wrestle the cork out of the Rioja bottle... “Nice choice by

Georgie would appreciate a Spanish meal. We visited my boyhood home

of course. But what I meant was, your

kitchen roll. “What email? Damn!” and he makes a dash for the oven where smoke is spilling from the