from different cultures, but I don’t have a good feeling about these guys. My guts are twisting as I take it all in. Where have they come from?
‘Just give him the money,’ I whisper to Ella. She begrudgingly hands over too much money, her shoulders up around her ears.
I grab her and pull her out back to the kitchen, grabbing my handbag on the way. ‘What the hell’s going on?’
She leans on one hip, arms crossed over her chest. ‘I have no idea. We’ve just suddenly been over-run with travellers. They’ve been a nightmare from the minute they came in. Saying we’ve short changed them and given them the wrong drinks.’
‘Shit.’ This is just what we bloody need. I lift my hair from the nape of my neck, suddenly sweaty with panic. ‘We have to get rid of them.’
‘No shit,’ Clooney says, appearing in the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest. That position shows off his perfect triceps and tattooed forearms. ‘But you have to be careful with this lot. You can’t just bar them. They’ll kick off.’
‘You shouldn’t have left the bar. They could be robbing us right now!’
I start walking back towards it. I need to grasp some sort of control over the situation. I stand behind the bar looking over their faces. What can I do to get rid of them?
The front door opens and all three of us peer round to see who’s walking in. If it’s more travellers I’ll possibly cry.
As if my prayers have been answered two police men walk in, or guards as they call them here. Everyone in the place turns to stare at them. An eerie silence descends on the place.
‘We’d like to speak to a Phoebe Bellerose please.’
Crap, there was me thinking they were here to help us.
‘Erm, that’s me,’ I confirm as calmly as possible. My wobbly voice betrays any possibility of that. My cheeks burn as every traveller in there stares at me. Yeah, like I’m the dodgy one right now. ‘What’s this about?’
‘We’d prefer to speak to you in private, please,’ the taller one says, eyeing up the local travellers with caution.
‘Err... of course. Come through the back.’
Ella’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets in a speechless attempt to ask what’s happening without actually using words. I shrug and lead them through to the back room. When I open the door Suki runs around in excitement. They look at her warily.
‘Don’t worry, she’s friendly and without her anal glands.’
Words I never thought I’d say.
I invite them to sit on the sofa and sit myself down on the chair by the table, wiping my clammy hands on my trousers. Suki jumps up onto my lap, clearly thinking she’s a support animal.
‘So, what’s this all about?’ I ask, twiddling my hands.
The taller guy clears his throat. ‘We’ve been informed by Mr Breen that you tried to run him down today.’
Oh for God’s sakes. Clooney’s dad trying to cause trouble again. Can he not see that I’m clearly capable of putting myself in it without him getting involved?
I sigh, slouching over. ‘I didn’t try and run him down. He stepped out in front of the hearse and I had to emergency brake to stop in time. The car didn’t even touch him.’
‘So it definitely wasn’t deliberate?’ he asks, his lips pursed, his pen and pad at the ready; like he’s expecting me to confess and he doesn’t want to miss anything.
‘Of course not!’ Do they really think I would do that?
He nods. ‘It’s just that he owns the rival pub and claims you have a grudge against him.’
‘Ha!’ I snort. ‘If anyone has a grudge its him. He’s not stopped trying to cause problems for me. He even tried to get us shut down for rats that he’d planted in here.’ I realise I’ve been flailing my arms around and quickly put them behind my back in an attempt to look calm and controlled.
‘Well,’ he looks to his shorter colleague, ‘your story seems to tie up with Seamus and Niall’s, so we’re happy.’
‘Oh. Okay.’
That was easier than I thought it would be. Thank God they didn’t mention me accusing them of hazing me. That would make me look really unhinged.
‘Now, do you have any idea how I can get rid of them lot out the front?’ I ask, my stomach still in knots.
He pursues his lips together, his eyes sympathetic. ‘Unless they’ve broken the law, not much we can do, I’m afraid.’
I sigh and cross my arms