The Piggy Farmer (The Barrington Patch Book 3) Emmy Ellis (notion reading list TXT) đ
- Author: Emmy Ellis
Book online «The Piggy Farmer (The Barrington Patch Book 3) Emmy Ellis (notion reading list TXT) đ». Author Emmy Ellis
They walked farther onto the estate, arms linked, Lou humming out of tune, Doreen recalling the conversation theyâd had earlier about some bloke coming into Blooms, acting weird towards Lou. Sheâd said he kept buying bouquets then handing them back to her after paying, saying stuff like: âYou deserve every flower in this shop. Fancy going for a drink?â
Lou always refused, said he gave her the creeps with his staring bright-blue eyes, and had even told Betty she felt harassed. The thing was, Betty said the man was only being romantic and Lou ought to be grateful she was getting any attention.
That wasnât rightârude, in fact, like Lou wasnât pretty enough to have a man treating her that wayâand Doreen had offered to go right up to Betty perched on the barstool sipping her Pernod and black, telling her to her face she should have her employeeâs bests interests at heart, but Lou wasnât having any of it. Instead, Doreen had given Betty evil stares a lot of the night, the hag giving them right back. God.
âI reckon that fellaâs got a screw loose,â Doreen said now, her little handbag bumping her hip with each step. âYou know, the one who buys you flowers.â
Lou tripped on nowt, said, âWhoopsie daisy!â, and giggled. âYeah, heâs a bit much. Iâve told him I donât want to go for a drink umpteen times nowâlike, a couple of times per visitâbut he wonât listen. Maybe I should tell him I fancy the pants off Joe Wilson. Then again, no. He might tell Joe, and Iâd be right embarrassed, because Joe doesnât know how I feel.â
It was simple to Doreen, the solution there if Lou had the balls to do it. âWhy not just bite the bullet and ask Joe out? If he says yes, at least you can tell the weirdo youâre seeing someone. Who is he anyroad?â
âThatâs the thing, I hadnât seen him before. He sounds like heâs from Yorkshire.â She paused walking and groaned. âFor Peteâs sake, Iâm getting a bloody blister.â
âYou should have put plasters on like I said before we went out. New shoes, sore feet.â Doreen shook her head. âHas he given you his name, the flower fella?â
Lou set off again, limping. âSee, this is where it gets even stranger. He writes the cards himself, right in front of me on the counter, and signs them as âSâ with a kiss and a love heart. Like, the first time, what heâd written was romanticâbecause I thought it was for someone else.â
That was coming on a tad strong. Who drew love hearts for strangers?
Doreen shuddered. âWhat did it say?â
Lou snorted. âYouâll piss yourself. Iâll never forget it: Roses are red. Violets are blue. Iâm in your life. And I will have you.â
âErr, okay⊠I donât find that funny. Itâs creepy.â
âAnd heâd underlined âwillâ. Like I said, I thought it was for someone else, but once he handed them over, that âwillâ came off as sinister, like I had no choice but to go out with him in the end. Maybe Iâm just being silly and he doesnât know how to chat girls up, so he thinks thatâs the way to go.â
Doreen shivered, despite the muggy air. âToo right itâs sinister. How many times has he been in since?â
âFive. Monday through to Friday this week.â
âBloody hell.â Doreen couldnât imagine having someone being pushy with her like that. She had her eye on a bloke, but he was a bit of a lad, seemed to overly enjoy sowing his wild oats. Sheâd wait until heâd calmed down, then see if he wanted to date her. Then again, did she want someone who was the town stud?
Lou swept her free hand through her hair. âAnd when I go for lunch at Samâs CafĂ©, you know the one, around the corner from work, I swear I feel someone watching me. Itâs that bad, Iâve been staying away from the window seats.â
Doreen stopped and gaped at her friend. âPack it in. Thatâs seriously not right. Iâve got bloody goosebumps.â
Lou shrugged, unlinking their arms and clutching Doreenâs hand. âWhat do I do, though? I canât go to the police and say I think Iâm being followed. Iâve got no proof, just a stupid feeling. Iâve never seen him around or owt, only ever in the flower shop.â
âNext time he comes in, tell him if he doesnât stop it with the bouquets, youâre calling the police, whether Betty Bitch likes it or not. Itâs harassment, that is.â
âBetty would have a fit.â Lou tugged Doreen back to walking.
âFuck Betty. Stupid old goat.â
Lou laughed. âSheâs okay, just sees âSâ as being passionate.â
âI wonder what that stands for. Sam? Simon?â
âSpy.â
âYeah, or Stalker.â
Lou squeezed Doreenâs hand. âDonât. Itâs even weirder when I hear footsteps on my way home, but when I turn round, no oneâs there.â
âWhat? Why didnât you say something? Or wait for me outside the betting shop and we walk home together? Jesus Christ, Lou.â
âKeep your hair on. Iâll do that from now onwards, okay?â
âYouâd sodding better. Weâll even get the bus if we have to. At least then if he gets on, weâll know itâs him pissing about by walking behind you.â But what if it wasnât? What if someone else was doing it? âIs he the only one acting off?â
âYeah. Everyone else is fine.â
Theyâd reached the end of their street, and because there had been a lock-in at The Donny, it was late, and all the houses stood in darkness bar theirs, the streetlamps doing bugger all, dim as they were. They always left the outside light on beside the front doorâMam had given Doreen a long list of what
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