Several days after Dad's departure, I spied a new huntsman in the corner of the living room, and Giselle wasn't far behind in noticing him. "We've a new tenant," she commented. "Should we charge him rent money?"
As the question left her lips, the spider scurried to the couch and under the cushions. Moments later, he reappeared with a £20 note, and a smaller, scribbled note that read, 'Ask and you shall recieve.'
Giselle's eyes all but bulged out of her head. "The hell is going on?" she demanded, as I tried to stifle my laughter and failed. This caught my wife's attention and she poked me in the ribs. "You've got some explaining to do," she said.
So I did. By the time I was finished, Giselle was caught between laughter and wonder. "That's one hell of a tale," she said. "But I believe you. I always did wonder if some other power was looking out for us, and it turns out I was right! But who's this scamp?"
"A half-brother or sister," I surmised.
The spider dropped another note. 'Brother,' the note read. 'Name's Charlie. Dad bent the rules and got one of us assigned to you instead. The higher ups weren't happy, but they couldn't really argue too much. It's not technically breaking the rules, so I can stay around as long as I want.'
Giselle smiled and stroked Charlie's head. "We'd be honoured," she said. "Welcome to the family, Charlie. Just keep the bugs at bay."
Charlie saluted her with a foreleg, and just like that, he was settled in as if he'd always been here.
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Charlie didn't do too much in the way of navigating us through the normal stresses that came with raising two energetic girls. But he did keep Frank at bay when the louse tried to sue Andrew and Catherine for a host of ficticious offences that saw his arse dropped right back in jail. His tale closed the night he committed suicide, and to be fair, I was rather glad he was gone. I did feel sorry for Stella, who by all accounts was now doing quite well for herself, but I didn't inquire after her. I no longer felt quite as bitter towards her as I had in the early days after our breakup, but I no longer wanted to know anything about her or her life. That chapter had been closed the day she'd tried to hurt Giselle, and so far as I was concerned, I was better off without a psychotic ex.
Mark wasn't doing as well as Stella, according to the rumour mill. He was constantly in and out of jail for a string of offences, and not long after Frank took his life, Mark was found floating in the river. It appeared to be a suicide at first, until the autopsy concluded he'd been shot before being dumped in the river. I shivered, thinking of how close Giselle had come to meeting a similar watery fate years ago, and she admitted to mixed relief and regret when the word of his death got to us. "He had a hell of a lot of potential," she said that night, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, for which I didn't blame her at all. "It's just a shame he chose to act out and be a bastard."
"Some people just can't help themselves," I agreed with a sigh. Bastard or not, he had been my best friend, and I mourned his loss. He could have been more than what he was, but in the end, his vices had caught up to him.
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A week after Mark's death, Giselle came home, white faced and shaking with rage. "Stella's really gone too far this time," she said, her eyes glistening with tears as she sank onto the couch, trembling. I grabbed her a coffee, and once she'd taken a few sips, she told me the story. Apparently Stella had come into the shop against the restraining order, and had told Giselle it was her fault Mark was dead. More accurately, Stella had screamed at my wife, in front of a shop full of customers, and when Giselle had tried to talk her down, Stella had all but launched herself across the counter. Luckily one of the customers had intervened, and Stella was now in custody. I swore when Giselle reached the end of her story.
"She's definitely gone too far," I agreed, tightening my hold. Giselle leaned against me, still trembling, but not as violently. Charlie looked grim as he perched in his usual corner, and I knew he was going to act as Dad had done many times before. I was definitely looking forward to seeing Stella face justice for this latest round of crazy.
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And face justice she did. This time, she was looking at a much longer jail term, not just for her attempted assault on Giselle and her breaking of the restraining order, but also for other unsavoury crimes, which included plans for murdering Giselle and our daughters, in the misguided belief it might drive me back into her arms. I was, at this point, more eager to hug a snake, and when Stella was sentenced, I was immensely relieved, not just because she was being put away for life, but also because my wife and daughters were safe.
One sour note was Stella's mother, Marcia, who confronted us as we left the court. I'd never gotten along with my erstwhile future mother-in-law, and her eyes showed all the malice she still carried for me. "You're to blame for my baby being jailed," she snarled, pointing a perfectly-manicured finger at me. "If you hadn't broken up with her, she would never have been driven to do such terrible things."
"She cheated on me," I said bluntly. "I wasn't going to tie myself to a girl who couldn't even lie straight in bed. I'm well rid of her."225Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvzTm9Q6Gbt
Marcia sniffed. "You'll be sorry," she said. "I'll make sure of it."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?" I said.
Right at that moment, a police officer tapped Marcia on the shoulder, and, like her daughter had done at Mark's trial years ago, Marcia went sheet-white. "I'm going to have to ask you to come with me," the officer said, his tone indicating that was not a request. Marcia meekly went along, but her eyes were spitting fire, and I sighed. Giselle squeezed my hand.
"What sort of flies does Charlie like?" she whispered as we made our way to our car. Andrew and Catherine were babysitting the girls, who were now very energectic toddlers, and I felt a sudden sense of foreboding come over me, despite my relief at my half-brother's timely intervention.
"Let's go," I said, and Giselle sobered as she caught onto my mood. We got into the car without further conversation, and Giselle held my hand very tightly as I turned the car's nose to home. I just prayed, as I navigated the Saturday afternoon traffic, that my hunch was wrong. Charlie was proving himself as skilled as Dad had been at tweaking threads here and there, and I hoped those skills would keep my in-laws and my daughter safe.
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