“Ah, this is top,” Ezra enthused. “Big time.”
“Please, follow me.” Wolfie led them to the kitchen door and the group filed outside. Pippa remained hidden behind the door, holding her breath as she waited for the inevitable. And seconds later, there it was. Steffany let out an ungodly shriek as her colleague burst out with some very un-corporate invectives. Pippa counted a few seconds and then rushed out after them, desperate to see the effects of her handiwork.
“What’s wrong?” she cried, only for the stench to hit her in the face harder than expected. “Wow.” Pig shit really was vile.
“Whatisthat stink?” Ezra demanded, looking positively green.
“Do you mean the smell?” Pippa fought to keep her face nonchalant. “We get that a lot when the wind blows a certain way. I’m so used to it I barely notice.” She hoped they didn’t clock her subtle retch at the end of the sentence.
“Where’s it coming from?” Steffany was almost in tears.
“Could it be that?” Toby was pinching his nose with one hand; the other was pointing towards the perimeter fence. There, piled up against the boundary fence, was what could only be described as a giant pile of shit. Atop it, a peg clipped to his nose, was Todd, merrily forking away at it and it seemed with every twist of his tool that more scent was unleashed into the air.
“Todd?” Wolfie stalked over to the fence. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Ah, greetings, neighbour!” Todd waved. “A relatively recent initiative for Johnson farms. Manure!”
“I can see and smell that it’s manure,” Wolfie snarled. “But why is it up against my fence all of a sudden?”
“Good question,” Todd said cheerfully. “It’s a safe space away from the other animals; contains alotof nasty bugs does pig shit. Had to move it over here. Against regulations to store so much shit so close to my beehives.”
“Regulations?” Wolfie snapped.
“Yeah. Total bugger. You know,” Todd leaned on the fork handle, “it’s excellent fertiliser and the rose gardeners at Sumpter Hall pay through the nose for it.”
Wolfie levelled him with a stare and Pippa could only marvel at Todd’s composure in the face of it. “Are those noses immune to the stench?”
Todd blinked. “Excuse me?”
Wolfie took a deep breath. “Far be it from me to limit your enterprise,” he said, “but I’m trying to sell this place and you’re stacking pig shit right against our shared boundary. Forgive me if I seem a little perplexed!”
Todd shrugged helplessly. “I do apologise for that,” he said. “The only thing is, I just learned that legally if I’m to store it I have to keep it a certain distance from my bees.”
“You’ve really got used to this?” Steffany murmured to Pippa. The exec clutched her tablet to her chest, face drained of colour. Pippa wondered what zany ‘vibe’ she’d attribute to the scene before her.Turd chic,she thought absurdly.Faecal eleganza.She couldn’t stop the snort that escaped, but instantly wished she had, as more stink rushed up her nose and her mirth turned into a gag.
“God yeah.” Pippa styled out the gag as a chuckle. “Barely notice it.”
Steffany heaved. “Are you telling me this is whatTop Stayguests can expect to smell every morning?”
“No way in hell.” Wolfie turned his electric eyes on Pippa. “Did you have anything to do with this?”
“Why would I have anything to do with it?” Pippa said, nose pinched. It was hard to hide her smirk because of course she’d suggested this tactical relocation of the manure pile and Todd had been only too happy to oblige.
Wolfie didn’t answer. He merely narrowed his eyes then turned back to the visitors. “I can only apologise for this,” he said to them. “Rest assured, this is some kind of misunderstanding that I will resolve.”
“How about we go inside?” Ezra suggested. “I think I’ve seen enough.”
With a final suspicious glare at Pippa, Wolfie shepherded his guests back into the house. As soon as the door was closed, Pippa whirled around to face Todd.
“That was epic!” she squealed.
“I think that tattooed kid was about to faint,” Todd said. “What a wuss. It’s just a bit of shit.”
“That’s more than a bit, Todd,” Pippa corrected him. “It’s a fuckton of shit.”
“Ah, yes, the metric fuckton, that oft-forgotten unit of manure measurement.” Todd grinned.
“Seriously, though, I have to move. It’s so vile.” Pippa backed away. “And well done for assembling it late-notice. Just hope it works.”
