Page 45 of Rough Around the Hedges

“Nugget. Spatchcock. Fillet. Tenderloin.”

I snatched the birdseed back from him and clapped my hand over his mouth, shooting a glare at him. “Shh, they’ll hear you.”

“Der hi-hens.”

I pulled my hand back. “Come again?”

“They’re chickens,” Oliver said, presumably in a repeat of what he just mumbled against my palm. “They don’t care what their names are.”

“Wow. How rude.” I scattered some seed on the ground before taking it back into the shed. “At least I know to keepyouaway from my precious babies.”

“What are you going to do with your ‘precious babies’ when the allotments are closed?”

Wow.

I stopped and stared at him. “You heartless prick.”

“It’s a fair question.”

“It’s a hurtful question,” I shot back. “It’s not just the chickens, it’s the cat, too.”

“There’s a cat?”

I pointed at my little patio table in the shade next to my shed. “He’s lying on the table.”

Oliver peered around me. “Huh. I didn’t see him there.”

“Of course, you didn’t. He’s a black cat in the shade. Hades is a master of disguise.”

“Hades? You called him Hades?”

“Yup. Semi-feral cat for rodent control. Who else would I name him after but the Greek God of Death?”

He paused. “That’s an excellent point. You’ll have to find a farm for him to live on, I suppose.”

“Wait there.” I stepped into my shed and grabbed the fork from its hook on the wall, then went back outside and pointed the sharp end at Oliver. “Would you prefer to be stabbed in the neck or the groin first? If I twist it right, I bet I can rip your genitals right off. If not, a good chop with my hoe would finish the job nicely.”

He took a step back and held up his hands. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

I stared at him. “I’m glad you’re smart enough to recognise it. Now, I think I’ve humoured your intolerable arse enough. What do you want?”

“It’s as I said over text. I want to apologise for the mistake I made in sending you the incorrect closure notice,” Oliver said, and his sincere gaze told me he truly meant it. “My lawyer has advised me that you could be eligible for compensation, so I wanted to discuss it with you.”

“Compensation, you say?” I lowered my fork to the ground and leant on it. “How about keeping the allotments open?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t see how you can possibly compensate me adequately for the emotional distress I’ve incurred at your hands.”

He stared at me for a moment. “Really? I can think of a few ways.”

“That’s strike two for sexual harassment, sir.”

“You’re the one whose mind jumped to the gutter, miss.” His eyes twinkled. “I was talking about perfectly platonic things, like monetary compensation.”

What was it about this man that was so infuriating? And why the heck had I found him so charming the first night we met? I was hardly a person who was easily swayed, so what was it about him that had swept me away so vigorously?

Especially considering I now wanted to throw a bag of soil at him?

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