The Piggy Farmer (The Barrington Patch Book 3)

by Emmy Ellis

  Sharon sighed, picking at a fingernail, the tick, tick, tick of it loud. “Look, I’ve got to talk to someone. There’s stuff you don’t know about Karen…”

  I know plenty, duck. “Oh right.” Feigning nonchalance came so easily. It had to when you worked for Cassie. A poker face was part of your armour, something she’d learnt while under Lenny’s rule. Never show your opponent what’s on your mind until you’re prepared to speak. He’d said that to her once, and she’d taken it on board.

  Sharon stuffed the fingernail between her teeth and ripped it off.

  “Don’t even think about spitting that on my floor, you dirty cow,” Brenda said. “The bin’s just there.” She nodded to the grey flip-top by the internal door.

  Sharon got up and disposed of the result of her gnawing, returning to her seat with a weary thump. “She’s got some stupid scheme on the go, and I’m worried she’s gone and done it.”

  “Done what?” Will she admit it?

  “I know I said I needed to talk, but I can’t say.” Sharon studied the fruit bowl, maybe the already-going-brown bananas, a bunch that had Ripens Over Time on the bag.

  Well, Brenda had only bought them two days ago, so that claim was a load of old bollocks. That was the thing with bananas. One minute they were green, and the next time you looked, they had bruises, the yellow stage a mystery.

  She told herself off for letting her mind wander.

  “I can’t grass on her,” Sharon reiterated.

  Loyal to the last then. “Is that why you’re panicking, walloping her door at ten to six in the chuffing morning?” Brenda added sugar. “I mean, it’s enough to wake all the neighbours, and if Karen’s ‘scheme’ is meant to be kept quiet, you haven’t done a good job at making sure it stays that way.”

  “I didn’t want fuck all to do with it, I said no when she asked me, I wasn’t going to be in on it, but she’ll do it anyroad. She’s obsessed, that one.”

  “So because she hasn’t answered your texts or her door, you think something’s happened, is that it?” Brenda flinched at her phone going off.

  She read the message from Cassie: Perfect.

  What the fuck was going on?

  “Yes.” Sharon got up and opened the long pale-pink curtains in front of the back door, staring out at the garden, the fir tree branches in Mrs Roderick’s border weighed down with snow, the bushes covered in a glaring white wig, an old lady’s perm. “I should get hold of Cassie. Should never have kept this to myself. But Karen’s my mate…”

  Brenda sighed inwardly. Karen was supposedly her best mate, although Brenda had long since realised Karen only bothered with her when she wanted something. It didn’t sting as much as it should, and Brenda had got used to only being needed when it was convenient. She acknowledged there and then that she hadn’t been such a good friend herself. If she had, she’d have tried harder, gone to see Karen a bit more, but saying that, why should she when it was clear she wasn’t wanted in that way anymore?

  Life, it changed things. It got busy, and there wasn’t enough time in the day to continue nurturing friendships. Neither of them were who they’d been when they’d first become pals.

  “Do you get it, though?” Sharon’s breath turned to condensation on the glass in the door, and she drew a sad face on it. “It’s not like Karen is the same lately, is it. I mean, she barely comes to see you. Not being funny, but she uses you when I’m not available.”

  “Shit happens.” Brenda poured water into the cups, thinking life didn’t change that much.

  Here they were, still talking like they were in their teens, going against their friend, although Brenda hadn’t said owt bad. A trio of mates was never ideal. One always spoke about either of the others, then made out they didn’t when faced with the person they’d slagged off. It wasn’t Brenda’s style these days, she was way past that, but how unsettling that Sharon had gone down that route now, a regression of sorts. Why bring that up? Why tell Brenda something that could potentially hurt her? Was she jealous Karen was mates with Brenda?

  “And, wicked as it sounds, I was relieved when she turned to you,” Sharon went on. “There’s only so much of Karen you can take, know what I mean? She’s got so arrogant as she’s aged. Or more arrogant.” Her cheeks flushed. “That sounded bad. But you must know what I’m saying. She can be a bit full-on, and recently, she’s been even more so. I can’t cope with her by myself—I don’t want to cope with her. I’m getting on in years and just want a bit of peace and quiet, to leave my day job at the supermarket and edit The Life. I swear, if I could tell you what she’s up to, I would, but if she pulls it off, I need to be on her good side.”

  Because you think she’ll be running the patch.

  Brenda added milk and stirred, using the time to think about what to say. She wouldn’t go against Cassie, and that last text told her the boss had something she wanted to say to Sharon if she thought it was perfect the woman was here. “I don’t need to know all the ins and outs—like you, I don’t want to get involved with stuff if I can help it. I’ve got enough guilt trips of my own to deal with. Here, get this down you.” She pushed a coffee across the worktop. “And let’s not act like we’re kids, talking about Karen in that way when she isn’t here. I don’t like it, never did; I only went along with it years ago because of some misguided idea that if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have friends. I’ve since realised I don’t need them.”

  Brenda lit a fag and inhaled deeply. That was better.

  The doorbell trilled, and her stomach rolled over. Here we go.

  “That might be Karen.” Sharon darted as if to rush from the room.

  “It isn’t. Stay put or sit back down.” Brenda stuffed the work burner in her pocket so Sharon wasn’t tempted to peek, left the room, closed the door, and hurried along the dark hallway, puffing on her ciggie. She flung the door open, automatically glancing up and down for nosy neighbours, and ushered Cassie inside.

  Door shut, Cassie stamped snow from her boots onto the mat.

  Brenda launched into the latest information, whispering, “Sharon’s been trying to get hold of Karen—texting and banging on her door. She’s guffing on about Karen being up to something and that she should have told you. We both know what that means.”

  Dark shadows sat beneath Cassie’s eyes, evident by the light coming in from the lamp outside. “Makes sense she’d do that. It’s why I’m here. About Karen. I can tell you both at the same time. Saves me having to repeat myself, doesn’t it. In the kitchen, is she?”

  Brenda nodded and followed Cassie into the room, taking another huge puff of her fag, her nerves strung to their limit. Sharon’s eyes widened at the sight of the patch leader, and she staggered to the side, coffee in hand sloshing, and plonked down onto her chair.

  “Morning. You look a bit peaky,” Cassie said. “Like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Brenda held back a chuckle at that. Sharon clearly hadn’t expected Cassie to appear. Brenda would bet she’d entertained ideas of Cassie being killed overnight, so to see her now… Well, she would seem like a ghost.

  “I-I-I… Oh, fucking hell.” Sharon burst into tears.

  Cassie stared at Brenda who shrugged and turned to the kettle again. Cassie sat opposite Sharon while Brenda made another coffee, and the tension in the air was so thick she swore she could touch it, hold it in her shaking hand. Silence ruled the time it took for her to finish the drink and take it to Cassie, then she collected her own and sat at the head of the table, leaning across to the worktop to pick up her cigarettes, and a lighter, the one with Paris written on the side and a picture of the Eiffel Tower, something she’d stolen from Sid last week. She had a habit of nicking things, even though she could afford them herself, and had been arrested for it once in her younger days.

  “Right, I’ll come straight out with it.” Cassie glared at Sharon. “Karen’s gone and got herself disappeared.”

  The shock on Sharon’s face spread her features out with her watery eyes going mass
ive and her mouth hanging open. The crows’ feet bunched, a tear anchored in one, and her chin turned into a double. “W-what?”

  “I’m warning you, don’t play coy with me, Sharon. I didn’t get to bed last night and I’m in no mood to play games.” Cassie blew her coffee then sipped.

  “I told her it wasn’t right.” Sharon wiped the tears from her cheeks, the nail with the missing tip standing out amongst the longer ones. Again with the neon-yellow polish. “I said I wanted nowt to do with it.”

  “But you didn’t tell me.” Cassie doodled on the tabletop with the pad of her thumb, and the action seemed portentous, the calm before a violent storm that would blow Brenda’s kitchen up something chronic. “You didn’t feel it was necessary to warn me that your best pal was going to kill me and my mam. Me, I can deal with that, but Mam? No fucking way. No one threatens her.”

  “She’s off her rocker, obsessed with taking over,” Sharon babbled. “Karen, I mean, not Francis. I’d never say owt mean about Francis.”

  Brenda doubted that, she’d been there when Sharon had badmouthed her in the past, but whatever. She gulped some coffee and burnt her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Christ, today was getting mankier by the second. The icing on the cake would be Sid dying when he hadn’t withdrawn the money, something she got all of her victims to do, which she handed over for Cassie to launder, then received a percentage.

  Sharon burbled on. “I told Karen it was stupid, that we’re too old to be gallivanting around the estate now, issuing orders, but she was convinced she was owed the patch. Like, it was ours before Lenny came along and stole it. She’s never been happy about that. Me? I was glad we didn’t have to be bullies anymore. I never did like it. Editing The Life and listening out for trouble suits me, and that’s all I want to do.”

  Cassie’s stare gave Brenda the willies.

  Shit, will she get rid of Sharon as well now? Will she expect me to help her like she did with Vance? Will Sharon end up in Marlene?

  “I’ve decided not to do owt about you, Sharon,” Cassie said, “so don’t go shitting yourself all over Brenda’s nice chair. I’m well aware you weren’t prepared to go against me or Mam.”

  “How?” Sharon blinked, her eyelashes clogged with tears.

  “Never you mind. So long as you keep this shit to yourself, you’re golden. If you need to chat about it, do it with me, Mam, or Brenda here. No one else. Do I make myself clear?”

  Sharon nodded. “I won’t breathe a word.”

  “I can see you won’t, considering you didn’t warn me about what Karen was up to. A sneaky secret-keeper, that’s what you are—so make sure you remain that way with everyone else. Although, if you hear of someone wanting to take over the patch, or owt whatsoever to do with me or Mam, or even Brenda, you’d better tell me.”

  Even me? Brenda was well chuffed to be included, to be that important to Cassie.

  The patch leader slapped the table. “This is your first and only warning, got it?”

  Sharon whined, covered her eyes, and sobbed.

  Cassie glanced at Brenda and rolled her eyes. Brenda gave her a smile and stubbed her ciggie out, immediately lighting a second. She blew smoke away from her guests (she wasn’t that much of a heathen), and took another draw of her drink, willing the caffeine and nicotine to keep her on an even keel.

  First and only warning. Sharon had better behave, or she’d find herself in the same situation as Karen.

  Sharon lifted her head and dragged her hands down her face, resting them either side of her untouched coffee. Drips were already drying on the outside of the mug where she’d spilt it, and there’d be a ring stain on the table, which irritated Brenda. She whipped a tea towel off the side and cleaned up the mess.

  “What…what happened?” Sharon asked.

  You were clumsy, that’s what happened. I swear, if this stain doesn’t come off…

  Cassie focused on Sharon instead of Brenda’s frantic wiping. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fair enough. I wrecked her face with my weapon—Karen was unrecognisable by the time I’d finished with her. Lots of blood. My associate slashed her cheeks with a knife. We’d planned to impale her on The Beast’s tail, like Karen had in store for me—fitting to turn her idea back round onto her, I reckon—but in the end, she had her throat slit, her stomach stabbed, and Marlene dealt with her after that.”

  Sharon let out a weird noise, half screech, half groan. “My God…”

  “She shouldn’t have overstepped the mark. Let it be a lesson to you.” Cassie drank her coffee as though she hadn’t just described something hideous.

  Brenda shivered and sucked on her fag. Fucking hell, it sounded like they’d gone to town on Karen, overboard even. Who was the associate? Francis? Jason? Was Cassie saving his comeuppance for when she had solid proof of what he had in mind?

  “Go home, Sharon,” Cassie said. “And from now on, you’ll be dealing with Doreen Prince when it comes to The Life. She’s taken over writing it. I don’t need your input, as in, you won’t be meeting up with her to discuss the articles. Just edit them when she emails them to you.”

  Sharon’s mouth sagged. “What?”

  “You heard me.” Cassie scowled. “If you’re worried about your five hundred a week, it’s safe.” A pause. “For now. You’ll continue to be my ears—and you’d better get listening, else I’ll start suspecting you’re not on the level an’ all.” She waved at the door absently. “Say nowt about Karen. You’ll understand what you can say once you’ve received the next instalment of The Life. Go on, piss off, I need a private chat with Brenda.”

  That had the coffee in Brenda’s stomach all but curdling. A private chat?

  Sharon rose and stumbled out, a muffled “Oh!” escaping from behind the hand over her mouth. The shock of everything had properly set in, and she undoubtedly wondered how she was going to convince people she didn’t know owt about Karen ‘moving away’, because Brenda knew that was code in The Life for ‘dead’.

  The front door snicked shut.

  Cassie sighed. “What a stupid fucking cow.”

  Brenda couldn’t argue with that. “She sounded genuine when she told me she didn’t want owt to do with it, though.”

  “I agree—someone else told me the same thing. Sharon’s on her last legs with me. One more misdemeanour, no matter how small, and I’ll have her. I can’t be doing with baggy lips—unless they’re giving me information. Now then…” Cassie twisted to face Brenda. “I’ll be adding another five hundred to your weekly wage. I want you to keep an eye on Sharon. Get friendlier with her—that’ll be easy because she’ll need someone to fill the void Karen’s murder has created, plus she’ll be at a loose end, what with not having any meetings about The Life. I want you to monitor what she’s up to in case she decides to do a Karen on me.”

  “Fine by me. She said she’s giving up the supermarket, so she’ll be even more lost. I’ll make a habit of nipping over there each day before I go and see Sid. Act like I’m concerned about her.”

  “Good. The private thing I need to discuss… You won’t be seeing Jason around anymore.”

  Oh shit. She’s gone and done it already. Is that why she’s got bags under her eyes? Was she up all night killing him and Karen? “Has he disappeared?”

  “Not yet, I’ve got him somewhere, but put it this way, he won’t be leaving that place alive.”

  “He’s a bampot.” It was what Cassie would expect her to say.

  “That he is. I need to you pay as much attention as you can to Gina, too. That mother of his has the potential to cause a ruckus during the time he’s ‘missing’. I’ve no doubt she’ll come whinging to me, asking if I know where he is, but she’ll get short shrift until I’m ready to tell her he’s dead. I know full well she won’t take to you suddenly wanting to be pals, so I don’t expect that of you—she’s a closed door when it comes to friendships, isn’t she. Always has thought herself better than everyone el
se, yet she lives on the shittiest street of the Barrington. Weird, that.”

  “I heard she likes her house and doesn’t want to leave it.” Brenda knew that feeling well. The location might be ropey, but the interior was what became home. “Jason told me that once—why he thought I’d want to know is anyone’s guess. He wanted to rent somewhere else once he started working for Lenny and got better wages, but Gina wouldn’t hear of it.”

  “Well, that’s her lookout. You can’t expect people to believe you’re royalty yet live in the slums, can you. Anyroad, she’ll know exactly what her precious son has been up to—and if she gives me any bother, I’ll let her know where her husband ended up an’ all.”

  Bloody hell… “Lenny…”

  Cassie nodded. “Between you and me, Dad got rid of him for Jason’s sake, said he was better off without that sort of man in his life. Do you know what really boils my piss? The fact Dad watched out for Jason, tried to make up for him not having a father anymore. Showing him what a proper dad was like. And look what Jason did. Threw it back in his face by wanting to run the patch. All his talk of us two dating—he was stringing me along, I see that now. He wanted to be with me, and all so he could be close by to drug me and Mam so we’d be off our tits enough that he could take over, making it look like we were incompetent.”

  “How wrong he was.” Brenda drank some coffee, thinking about her new tasks. Dealing with Sharon was a breeze, but earwigging with Gina? Not a chance. The woman had her nose so far in the air it touched God’s arsehole.

  “Yep, and now he’s paying the price for it.” Cassie smiled. “He’s currently attached to the floor by an eight-inch nail through his shin.”

  “Fuck me.” Nauseated, Brenda imagined the pain, the blood. She was well aware of how wicked Cassie could be, she’d witnessed it first-hand with Vance, but Jesus Christ, a nail? Eight inches? She rubbed her goosebumped arms.