Between Heaven and Rock (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 3)

A Publisher, a Soldier, and a Priest Enter a Pub

2 out of 3 for today.

Do you love me? :P

K. xx

***

Oliver hung up and said to Whitlaw in the backseat, "Fenton's waiting for you."

"Let me guess, he lives above his surgery, like in a Christie novel?" Ulla asked.

Whitlaw chuckled. "He does. And he'll be done with his tea by now, so hopefully he'll be in a better mood and won't stab me too hard." He paused, and then added - with Oliver once again joining him in unison, "Yeah, he still will."

Ulla snorted.

"I bet he was gentle with you, Rev," Whitlaw said, leaning back in his seat. "Didn't he have to patch you up your face that time before Will's wedding?"

Ulla whipped her head and quickly glanced at Oliver before returning her attention to the road. It was snowing properly now, and a few minutes ago she'd started leaning forward, trying to distinguish where the road was in this sea of white.

"What happened before the wedding?" she asked greedily, trying to maneuver the slippery streets of the sleepy town of Fleckney Woulds.

Holyoake seemed to have suddenly developed selective deafness, but obviously Ulla wasn't going to let it go.

"I think it would be wise for you to tell the story yourself, Oliver," Ulla drew out, "as opposed to me pulling it out of our mate James here."

Whitlaw guffawed at the back, and Holyaoke sighed dramatically.

"But tell it nicely, please," Ulla said. "Like one of your sermons, not like your book."

"Blimey, mate, she's vicious," Whitlaw supplied a comment.

"Alright," Oliver said slowly. "So, once upon a time," he said, and Ulla giggled. He chuckled as well, and continued, "A publisher, a soldier, and a priest were on their way to a morning dress fitting. And they needed to stop by the pub that had previously belonged to the soldier's bride and was now sold to her evil ex-husband and his evil new girlfriend."

Oh wow. Fiona Holyoake has quite a backstory, Ulla thought.

"And the publisher parked his overpriced car in the street, and the soldier said he'd go inside the pub to pick up the papers he came there for, and told his brothers there was absolutely no reason for them to go with him," Oliver continued. "So, after twenty minutes of waiting for him in the car, the brothers decided to go check on him."

"Oh dear, you've waited for twenty minutes while he was in the pub with his wife's ex?" Ulla gasped.

"Don't interrupt," he told her, his voice shaking with laughter. "I'll slip into my usual 'botched up, half-arse' style."

"Never did I expect to hear Oli Holyoake say 'arse,'" Whitlaw exclaimed in fake shock. "But please, do continue. It's an ace story."

"When the publisher and the priest came in, four henchmen of the evil ex husband were trying to overpower the soldier, while three more were moaning and lamenting their broken limbs and bashed out teeth on the floor."

"Oh wow..." Ulla exhaled.

"Actually, there were no broken limbs or bashed out teeth," Oliver said in a normal voice. "He'd been dodging them the whole time. Didn't leave a scratch on them, because, according to him–"

"That wouldn't be fair," Whitlaw sing-songed.

"He is a trained SAS officer after all," Oliver said with a nod. "So, we come in, and he yells to us to go back to the car, because, and I quote, he's 'fine.'" Ulla laughed, and Oliver continued, "John starts trying to settle the matter peacefully, offering the lads to 'talk it out,' and then one jumps on him. John dodges, knocking another one over - and then all hell breaks loose. They all want to end us in, and Will is avoiding them like an eel, because, again, he doesn't want to accidentally kill them. John is doing his Jiu-Jitsu thing, where they just fly left and right, and then hop up again and have another go at him. While I'm stuck with two large lads who decided it would be easier to take me on together."

"Tell her about the jacket," Whitlaw said.

"Ah, right, I'm wearing a jacket at the time," Oliver said in a pointed tone.

"So they can't see the dog collar," Ulla guessed. "Blimey, the story's getting more and more craic."

"It's craic now, darling," Oliver said sardonically. "I was hardly amused at the time."

"By the way, he has a black belt just like John, mind you," Whitlaw chuckled.

"You do?" Ulla threw Oliver a quick glance.

"But unlike John, I haven't practised since I was a teen. And I wasn't exactly on a training mat at the time," he said. "There are two hard blokes planning to coldcock me! And then we see that four of them finally got to Will, and he's just thrown a couple of them on the floor, and John suddenly yells, "Don't let them punch him! He'll need his face for the wedding photos!" And then, like in a ridiculous comedy, Fiona's ex jumps from behind the counter with a cricket bat in his hand, screaming, "Leave the big one to me!" and rushes to me, spitting insults!"

"The big one being Oli since he's the tallest, and was the most hench of them at the time," Whitlaw explained. "And since our Oli doesn't curse, I'll tell you that the words 'nonce,' 'ninny,' and for some reason 'a fucking left-footer' were used in those insults."

"So he knew you were a priest!" Ulla exclaimed.

"And I assume he thought I wouldn't hit back," Oliver said and paused.

"Let me guess," Ulla murmured, and Whitlaw loudly cheered from the back seat.

"I did let him hit me first," Oliver said in an apologetic tone - and Ulla and Whitlaw burst into loud laughter.

"He knocked out Fiona's ex, and then the two blokes coming at Will," Whitlaw rasped out after a few seconds, still rolling with laughter. "He'll never hear the end of it! Every time the story comes up, John and Will start saying, 'Remember when you beat up those poor punters in Fiona's pub, Oli?' or 'Is this what they call the priestly behaviour these days, Oli?'"

Oliver rolled his eyes, and Ulla snickered.

"Oh right there!" Whitlaw pointed at a large cottage on their left. "That's the surgery."

Ulla parked carefully, and turned around to look at Whitlaw.

"Well, that was a lonely evening, Ms. Svensson," he said, grinning roguishly. "Welcome to the County of Fleckney." Ulla snorted. He gave her a wink with the healthy half of his face, but then hissed nonetheless. "I hope the rest of your evening is just as much fun. Oli?" He slammed his hands into Holyoake's shoulder. "No vigorous activities, mate."

"Have rest, James," Oliver said with a warm smile.

Whitlaw climbed out of Ulla's Honda and headed to the cottage. Ulla started the car.