Toad in the Hole -- The Rachael O'Brien Chronicles book 4

Chapter 1 Pearly Kings and Queens

by Paisley Ray

Chapter 1 Pearly Kings and Queens

"TOAD IN THE HOLE, it's what I crave when I'm back," my grandmother Geneva said before releasing a plume from an Indonesian Kretek cigarette into the already smoky room.

It was early June outside Langdon Park in East London, and rain ricocheted off the pub windows. Seated on the wooden bench next to me, Travis fidgeted. Beard stubble had erupted on his chin, shadowing his handsome face. Leaning into my ear, his breath whispered, "Is your grandmother always so graphic?"

Warm ale washed the back of my throat and I had to concentrate to swallow. It would have been easier to come up with a smartass comeback if I'd been one hundred percent sure what GG was talking about—Toad in the Hole!? The truth was I'd only found out that I had a living grandmother a year before. To preserve my sanity, I try not to dwell on my family's dysfunctional dynamics and for the most part I trap that stuff in a corner of my brain that unfortunately keeps outgrowing its allocated space. I didn't really know the woman seated across from me with hair fashioned behind her ear in a gem-encrusted barrette. She was nine-tenths a mystery and among other things, she easily hid the fact that she was a grandmother. Her fisherman cable-knit sweater and jeans gave her a timeless appearance, and if genetics were on my side, I hoped I looked just as good at her age.

To make up for lost time, missed birthdays, and Christmases, GG —Geneva McCarty, a "Geordie" from Newcastle, England, by birth—had invited me and a friend on this trip to visit her homeland and I'd chosen Travis Howard to bring along.

Travis's dimples caved. "We're talking about food? Right?"

"What did you think we were talking about?" I mumbled, knowing his mind, like mine, had visited the gutter. I'd been attracted to him from the moment we met two years ago on a crisp Halloween night in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. I knew he liked me, but not in THAT way. Our relationship fell under the expansive umbrella of "friends," though I'd be lying if I didn't admit that a part of me fantasized about the day he'd abandon his sexual preference for men and leap over the white picket fence into my open arms.

GG's eyes danced as she took another drag of her cigarette. Jesus, I craved one – not that I'd smoke in front of my grandmother and my dad's assistant, Edmond. They were easy going traveling companions, but my relationship with them hadn't evolved to where I'd comfortably reveal the two years of college vices I'd tucked under my belt.

"Homemade sausages baked in Yorkshire pudding. It's feel good food, more complicated to make than you'd think. The baking tin and beef drippings need to be smoking hot before the batter is poured. It can come out like a brick if the proper steps aren't followed." She tapped Travis's arm. "You'll love it."

"I'm sure I will." Travis lied.

Along with gumption, youthfulness, wealth, and a slew of other qualities, GG possessed the power of persuasion. When Travis's mouth twitched, I knew he was a goner.

"Make it two," he said.

Edmond was the oldest in our group and surprisingly didn't outwardly appear drained from our cross-continent airport schlep. I chalked it up to the golden glow he carried on his cheeks, neck, and hands. A suntan easily masks how you feel beneath. He fastened his sleek dark hair into a modest ponytail, accentuating the contrast where his tanned face met gray at the temples. His coloring didn't come from white sand beaches and crystal blue waters. It had been harvested in Canton, Ohio, where summer heat had flicked on like a light switch a month before this trip. By the time I returned home from my sophomore year at North Carolina College, sauna conditions had already curtained the Midwest in ninety-degree heat. Edmond's early-season tan was a blatant reminder that the number of clients requiring refurbishment and repair of art and antiques at Dad's restoration shop waned. That had to be why my father agreed to relinquish his only full-time employee for an entire month. My grandmother professed she needed his help while she redecorated her cottage in North Yorkshire, but she was a wheeler-dealer and in the back of my mind, I wondered if she had more than refurbishments in mind for this trip.