Unsettled Ground Claire Fuller (grave mercy TXT) 📖

Three, Jeanie thinks. Why did Rawson send three people?

“What the hell is going on?” she says, and they turn to look at her. She tries to block Maude on the stairs but the dog slips round her legs and snarls, lips retracted. The man Julius is arguing with stamps a booted foot towards her and Maude scuttles under the table.

“Jeanie,” Nathan says, standing upright. “Miss Seeder. I didn’t know you were home.”

“Where else would I be at nine in the morning, Nathan?”

He shoves his hands in his trouser pockets and she can see the shape of his knuckles through the material.

A fourth man appears from beside the front door, carrying a toolbox. “All done, Tom,” he says, handing over a set of keys.

“For God’s sake,” Julius says. “This is our house.” He’s wearing only his pyjama bottoms. His go-to uniform for emergencies, Jeanie thinks.

“Why did you let them in?” she asks.

“Didn’t you hear them? They were beating the door down.”

Tom slaps the workman on the back. “Cheers, mate. Settle up later, yeah?”

Through the kitchen window Jeanie sees the locksmith wandering down the path like this is just another job. The wind lifts long strands of his hair and blows them about. Tom takes a drag on his cigarette, flicks the butt into the garden, and kicks the foot of the man on the sofa, making him jump and jerk again. “Come on, Lewis. Can’t fucking sleep all day. We’ve got work to do.”

“Get out of my house,” Julius says. He’s at the front door with his hand on the latch.

Jeanie is standing in front of the range, its dull warmth radiating through her skirt, and she thinks that she must build up the fire—they will need hot water and the top warm for breakfast—until she realizes that they probably won’t be having breakfast this morning. Perhaps the scrambled eggs she made a few days ago but didn’t eat were the last she’ll ever make in this house. She thinks then of the chickens—what will they do with the chickens? Nathan comes to stand beside her. “I thought you’d have moved out already,” he says quietly, apologetically.

“Well, we haven’t. Let’s just stop this,” she says. “We don’t owe any money. There’s no rent to pay. We’ll speak to Rawson and get it sorted out.”

Lewis stares about him, dazed from sleep. He stands and dozily picks up a kitchen chair, and Tom takes another. “Here,” Tom calls and throws the chair to Nathan, high across the table. Nathan’s reaction is slow, but he catches it.

“Wait,” Julius says. “Where are you going with those?”

“Should have got rid of this shit earlier,” Tom says.

“Your dad’s coming to move us out today,” Jeanie says to Nathan, although it hasn’t been arranged. As Jeanie positions herself between him and the front door, she hears Maude fussing under the table. Nathan wavers. “We’re going to be staying with him and your mum for a while.” She hopes this is still possible.

“Are you running this geriatric eviction, Nath?” Tom picks up another chair. “Or am I?” He manoeuvres himself around Julius.

Nathan puts his shoulders back, hardens his face. “Rather you than me,” he says to Jeanie. She wants to grab the chair from him and smash it over his head.

“Surely you can wait until he arrives with the van?” she says.

“I don’t want nothing to do with that old git, never again. I work for who I like, when I like.”

“Let’s put them out on the track, lads,” Tom says, and the men lift the chairs above their heads and Jeanie finds herself backed against the range so that Nathan can pass.

“He did speak to you then?” Jeanie says to him. “Tell you not to do this?” He ignores her.

Julius, near the door, steps in and takes hold of Lewis’s chair, trying to wrestle it from him. There’s a tussle and swearing, and one of the chair’s stretchers comes loose.

“Now, now,” Tom says from where he stands on the doorstep. “We’re just doing our job, Mr. Seeder.” There’s laughter in the way he speaks as if it’s a joke and in a moment he might put the chair back and say, Only pulling your leg.

Suddenly Julius lets go of the chair and Lewis falls, pushing the parlour door open and landing heavily on his back. There’s a tangle of man and chair until Julius steps across Lewis and into the parlour. Jeanie whistles for Maude and follows her brother. Just as she is closing the parlour door on the men, Tom smiles at her, his square little teeth stained, and with his index finger draws a line slowly across his neck.

“Phone Stu,” Jeanie says to Julius. “Tell him to come straight away.” Through the parlour window they see the men chucking the chairs over the gate and walking back up the path.

“I haven’t got any sodding charge,” Julius says.

“For goodness’ sake, why not?”

“Because we haven’t paid the electricity bill, remember?” He’s shouting. “Because I couldn’t charge the phone when I was milking because they’ve bloody got their eye on me the whole time. And I didn’t go to the fucking pub after work because I knew you’d be on at me. All right?”

“All right,” she says softly. “All right. I’m sorry.” She’s trembling and she sits in the armchair so that she can press down on her thighs. “I packed some stuff yesterday. I’ve just got to get our clothes together. We’ll manage. It’ll be okay.” She’s saying things for the sake of speaking, to make everything seem normal, solvable.

Julius crouches, grips her upper arms, and looks into her eyes. “I’m going to get dressed and then I’m going to find Stu and tell him he needs to come right now. Maybe he can try again to stop Nathan.” Julius did speak to Bridget about Nathan, then, Jeanie thinks. She doesn’t believe it will work a second time, not now she’s seen Tom, but she nods. “Stay in here with Maude and you’ll be