Vonny was getting altogether too cool to talk to her big brother every day. He’d tried several times and she wasn’t answering. He stirred the Bolognese and messaged her: Guess who’s getting married in town next Monday?
No time 4 this, Vonny typed.
The Boarder
He still hadn’t piqued her interest. As in THE Boarder, my biological father
Holy shit
Still not important enough for her to call.
Will you come have a squiz with me at the church? I just want a look?
Course
Don’t tell Mum.
They must have said this to each other a million times over the years.
Obv!! Xx, Vonny replied.
Dante was cooking for the girl whose dating profile was on his screen. Tattooed Tiffany who ‘eats anything’.
He tasted the Bolognese – it was not special enough for Tiffany. He cooled some on a saucer and gave it to Garibaldi, who seemed to agree.
Dante went outside and picked some rosemary, basil and 53a sprig of thyme. He checked there was water and seed in his bird stand. His faithful dog followed him to the chicken hutch, where ten happy chooks lived the good life.
Howie in particular looked very healthy, Dante thought, picking him up. ‘Hey Howie!’ He then placed the chook on the chopping block and, axe in hand, swung once and severed Howie’s head.
Vonny had become a vegan when she saw him do this. She told him she still had nightmares that there was a ginormous headless chicken running round and round her house.
Dante waited till Howie slowed, then carried him and his head inside.
Cacciatore, he was thinking.