Page 13 of A Very Happy Halloween

“You bastard!”

He looked more worn around the edges—longer hair, creases in his forehead, and scarred skin by the eye with the patch. But his body hadn’t changed much. Under the wet T-shirt that clung to his pecs, he was as chiselled as I remembered. Muscled perfection.

And still a massive dick.

Man, the dick. I glanced down before I could help myself, and his grey sweatpants were soaking too.

Nope, he’s absolutely a jerk.

Alfie sidled up to us with the dog, dripping, and I spotted a worm crawling out of his trouser pocket. Heaven help me. And his cast was wet. Would it dry out, or did we need to go back to the hospital?

“Mum said a bad word.”

“Sometimes that’s necessary,” Eyes told him.

“Do not encourage my son to swear. Alfie, we’re leaving.”

“Janie…”

“You didn’t want to speak to me thirteen years ago? Well, I don’t want to speak to you now. You can fix your own damn door.”

Alfie’s eyes widened. “That’s two bad words. What happened to your face, mister?”

Please, ground, swallow me up.

“We’re leaving right now.”

The worm plopped onto the gravel, and I flounced off with Alfie, although my dramatic exit was somewhat scuppered when I realised I had no idea where I was going.

“How did you get in here?” I whispered.

Alfie shrugged.

Eyes was smirking, the giant prick. He nodded towards the door in the wall.

“That’s the fastest way out. Bolt’s on the inside.”

I gave him the finger over my shoulder as I marched away, which Alfie thankfully missed because he was too busy pointing at a beehive by the far wall. No, we weren’t going to check out the bees. With my current run of luck, they’d sting me into a swollen blob and I’d have to spend another eight hours in A&E.

Harry was standing on the front steps when Alfie squelched his way around the corner ahead of me.

“I went swimming!” he gleefully told his big brother. “I made a massive splash. And even though I definitely wasn’t drowning, a giant rescued me and Mum tried to punch him.”

Was it wrong to wish I’d had a girl? A girl wouldn’t have cannonballed into the swimming pool, and she definitely wouldn’t have cannonballed into the swimming pool with worms on board.

“Alfie, stand on the lawn and empty your pockets. Harry, pick up whatever painting stuff is ours and bring it with us.”

“I don’t have anything in—” Alfie started.

“All of it.”

Grudgingly, he evicted another worm, three snails, and a motley crew of woodlice.

“Does this mean I don’t have to do the gloss paint?” Harry asked.

“You can watch TV for the rest of the day.”

“Sweet.”

---