Thrasher’s jaw is tight as he turns, glaring daggers at me as Bryan cuffs him. I can’t help it, I stick my tongue out at him.
He lunges for me, eyes wild, and Bryan jams a knee into his back, dropping him like a stone.
“Daniel Thompson,” he says without a single change in tone. “You’re being detained for multiple offences, including failure to attend a mandatory police interview. You don’t have to make any statements, but anything you say will be recorded and may be given in evidence in court at a later date?—”
“Oh Lord,” Cece whispers, as Bryan locks the cuffs closed on Thrasher’s wrists. “This is really happening...”
I nod in fascination as Bryan hauls Thrasher to his feet. “Not only is it happening, it’s the hottest police activity I’ve ever seen.”
“I can hear you,” Bryan says, turning Thrasher toward the car park.
“Yeah, you can,” I call after him. “Your wife’s a very lucky woman!”
Bryan shoots us a weary look as he guides Thrasher away.
“Watch it, Renaldo,” Jake mutters, but he doesn’t sound upset. How could he when there’s so much to take in?
Shannon, surprisingly sensible, offers his wrists to the cops without fuss. Xavier doesn’t. He howls about being stitched up as his wife screams that she’ll sue them all. The sound rips through the garden, sparking mayhem and everyone and their mum starts scattering, filming, crying, shouting…
Betty and Gavin rise, and the six of us revolve like disco balls, trying to absorb everything at once.
Hayley Dean, in her beige dress and heels, blocks the female officer trying to put cuffs on Fletcher. “Get away from him, you bitch! He doesn’t even work at that farm! He never has!”
“He’s the fucking accounts manager,” the female officerreplies. “Get out of the way, or you’ll join him.”
Hayley claws her arm, so I guess she decided to join him. The lady-cop unleashes her taser, and I’m about to check if Cece’s watching when an even louder scream bursts from the mansion.
“You can’t do this! We’ve done nothing wrong!”
Before I can guess who’s definitely done something wrong, Will Sharpe barrels onto the lawn, Jenny hot on his heels. They half-run, half-stumble across the grass. Jenny’s stilettos sink into the soil, and Will grabs her hand as the cops close in.
“Whoa,” Cece whispers. “This would be cute if they weren’t…”
“The shittiest, most revolting people in the world?” I suggest.
“Yeah.”
“Stop right where you are,” one of the cops shouts.
“Fuck off!” Will calls over his shoulder, but he shouldn’t because the guy sprints forward, hooks his knee, and stacks Will like a sack of bricks.
“Not a bad tackle,” Jake says, and Cece, Betty, and I all laugh like hyenas.
Jenny shrieks bloody murder, re-sinking into the grass as Will’s wrists are pinned and the cuffs snap shut.
“You bastards,” Will bellows. “You’re not gonna get away with this!”
“William Sharpe,” the officer says, grinning as he drags Will to standing. “You’re being arrested for multiple offences, including failure to attend a mandatory police interview…”
Will’s still raging as they frog-march him toward the car park. I wish I had an apple to throw at his head, but you can’t have everything. At least that’s what I think before the cop helping Jenny out of the grass turns her around, cuffs her and steers her right after Will.
My mouth falls open. “How?What?”
“Surprise,” Betty gasps, laughing so hard she can hardly breathe. “She had one of the girls from the farm cleaning her house for free. I thought I’d keep it quiet. A little gift from me to you.”
“Wow,” I whisper. “Wow.”
Jenny wails like a banshee as she’s led away, a mix of pleas and threats echoing across the lawn. Betty and Cece are still laughing,and so are the boys, but I can only stare. Stare and wonder if this is what dying and going to heaven feels like.
