Borrowed Courage

Chapter Nine

When Brooke entered the kitchen for breakfast the next morning, she was greeted by the sound of arguing. It wasn't exactly unusual, these days. The source, however, was a surprise.

"Mr Tucker, if I needed any pest control services, I would have phoned in advance, but as I do recall." A wiry older woman who she recognised as their new landlady addressed her father at the door, dropping a mouse trap unceremoniously into his fumbling hands. "You are no longer in business."

Doug Tucker flinched at that, face red in anger. Brooke knew how much he hated being reminded of his forced retirement. "Oh, come off it, woman. Don't you think this place'd be a lot less grimy if you got rid of them?"

The landlady didn't even bat an eyelid at his outburst. "To whom are you referring to?"

"Don't be daft." He growled. "It's obvious you've got a borrower problem."

"Like I said, Mr Tucker. Our current pest control services have kept the bugs out for years before you showed up. I'd advise against giving them any trouble. After all." The landlady's eyes glinted. "You're already walking on very thin ice with the police, hmm? Wouldn't want to cause any unnecessary commotion."

He didn't reply at first, visibly caught off guard by her words, and Brooke's mother took that opportunity to step forward and place and hand on his shoulder. "We understand, Mrs Baker. On behalf of my husband, I am truly sorry for the misunderstanding."

The landlady huffed. "Yes, well. Just know that if you want to live under my roof, it'll be done on my terms." She eyed them both for a moment, before turning on her heels. "That will be all, then."

As soon as the door was closed, Doug Tucker rounded in on his wife with a look of unconcealed disgust. "I can't believe it." He breathed. "They've got her wrapped around their tiny little fingers!"

Sandra rolled her eyes at his dramatics. "Oh, get over yourself, Doug. Do you even have any proof that there are borrowers here?"

"Are you deaf?" He snapped back. "That old bag literally just spelled it out."

"We're done here." Brooke's mother said icily. "For your daughter's sake, don't do anything stupid."

"Your daughter is right here, you know." Brooke spoke up in place of a greeting.

Both parents stiffened in place, and Sandra coughed, quickly returning to the kitchen bench. "Morning, honey." She greeted pleasantly, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Typical.

Doug scowled and muttered a distinct 'for fuck's sake' at her theatrics. "I'm gonna go get some air." He announced. The door slammed shut behind him, inadvertently robbing Brooke of her chance to escape.

Just great.

With a resigned sigh, she turned to her mom. "Morning." Brooke answered stiffly, rubbing her eyes. No thanks to Kaleb, she'd barely gotten six hours of sleep in last night, and it showed in her sluggish steps into the kitchen. Just as she was thinking about what she wanted for breakfast though, a plate of steaming bacon and eggs was pushed towards her. Her brow furrowed. "What's all this?"

"I made us breakfast." Sandra smiled, looking especially proud of herself. "Your lunch is on the counter, too. I saw those apple cinnamon pasties you like at the shops yesterday, so I packed a few extra for you to take to school."

Brooke raised both eyebrows at that. She couldn't remember the last time her mom had made her a packed lunch, let alone breakfast. "Thanks..." She said uncertainly, knowing there had to be a reason. "But... what's the occasion?"