Page 3 of You’re So Vein

The ball arcs perfectly through the air, the kind of throw that would have had got me on the Indian cricket team.

Augustin touches his fingers to his watch, and I catch the tiniest peek of a tattoo trailing the edge of his starched cuff. It looks like a vine twisting around his wrist.

Somehow, despite all my time playing backyard cricket with my Papa and nephews, the ball misses Augustin entirely. It hits the potted plant.

Actually, it looks like the plant slams into the ball, wraps it and drops it harmlessly into its trailing foliage. But that’s impossible.

I must be too angry to throw straight.

Augustin consults his notes. “No matter how many missiles Councillor Ahuja lobs at my head, the fact remains that the wastewater system needs upgrading. Either we vote to accept my proposal or we form a subcommittee to investigate other options. All in favour?”

Of course everyone’s hand shoots up. The last thing anyone wants is another subcommittee.

I keep my hands firmly balled into fists at my sides. Augustin flashes me a smug smile as he bangs his gavel and opens the floor to general business.

As Councillor Mowbray steps up to give her report on the Guerilla Gardener’s latest pothole installation, Augustin sweeps past me to take a seat.

“This isn’t over,” I say.

By the window, the pot plant shivers.

2Komal

Augustin: ATTENTION ARGLETON SHOP-OWNERS: During routine inspections, we discovered the Victorian stormwater system isn’t up to code and needs to be replaced. We expect repairs to take 4–5 weeks. Due to HSE concerns, the work can only be carried out during daylight hours, requiring all shops to close during this time. We suggest that starting Monday, shopkeepers temporarily adjust their hours to late evenings to accommodate the needs of the village. We apologise for the inconvenience.

“I’M GOING TO MAKE MODERN art from his spleen,” I growl as I throw my phone at the table. It narrowly misses upsetting a Tupperware container of onion bhaji before skidding towards the half-empty bottle of wine. My friend Celeste saves the bottle just in time, making her my new all-time favourite person in the world. Right now, I need all the wine.

Augustin forcing every shop in the village to shut down during the day is bad enough, but telling the shopkeepers by text message, in his uncaring robot tone, makes this so much worse. I’d invited my friends to the park tonight to break the news to them so we could strategise over wine and leftover birthday food, but of course he has to bulldoze his way into our conversation without even being here.

“Let me guess – Augustin Durant and his amazing wastewater repair plan?” Beth Duncan taps her fingers against her mushroom-print phone case. Since her health food shop Zen and Tonic is also located on the village green, I’m assuming she just got the same text message.

“I’ll fill his mittens with glitter. I’ll find his old Twilight fan fiction and publish it in the Argleton Gazette, turn his suit trousers into low rise, and reorganise his bookshelves by colour.”

“Low-rise trousers? That’s some serious revenge. Augustin is quite charming, really. You have to learn to stop letting everything that man does get to you—” Celeste looks down at her phone. “What? This is absurd. How can he expect us to change our business hours for a whole month? On two days’ notice! I sell baked goods. No one wants cream doughnuts and filled rolls at midnight. They want pints of cider and questionable hook-ups.”

“Komal Massi, look what we can do!” Nikhil calls from the slide. Our necks momentarily snap up to watch my two nephews barrel down the slide together and land in a giggling heap.

“Very acrobatic!” I call out. “I bet you can’t get from one end of the playground to the other without touching the ground.”

“Can too!” They rush off to complete my challenge, buying me at least seventeen more minutes to vent with my friends.

Celeste scratches furiously behind her ear. “Shop owners are supposed to be consulted on these matters. This is just like the sunshades incident. I’m pissed.”

“You’re not going to go all wolfy on us?” Beth looks at our friend in concern, shuffling a few inches down the table as if that might save her from being mauled. Ever since Celeste told us a few weeks ago that she’s a werewolf, Beth has been a bit nervous around her. Personally, I think it’s super cool that our friend can sprout fur and claws. No body hair shame from Komal Ahuja.

“It’s only during the full moon that I can’t control my shift,” Celeste explains, squinting up at the waning moon peeking out from behind one of the huge floodlights. Luckily, the park is well-lit at night, because me and darkness don’t get on. “I’m just going to sit here, eating birthday cake and bhajis, unless Augustin Durant shows up, and then I’ll help Komal weave his intestines into a decorative fruit basket. Your dad never would have approved this plan.”

At the mention of Papa, my chest constricts.

“I’m sorry, Komal,” Celeste says quickly. “I know it’s scary. But your dad is going to be fine. He’s got you and your mum and sister looking after him.”

“Yeah.” I set down my wine glass. I’m not thirsty anymore.

“And just because he pulled out, doesn’t mean Augustin will win—”

“In true English local election tradition, he’s running against that mad army colonel who plans to reinstate cannons on the village green, and Reggie Brown, the crazy vegan handyman who wants to build tunnels under every road so hedgehogs can safely move about.” I slump in my seat. “Augustin will be mayor, and he’ll make all our lives miserable.”

“I don’t know what you have against Augustin. He’s really quite lovely,” Celeste says. “And maybe he’s on to something with these evening hours. You’re already doing well with your after-dark vampire beauty treatments, right, Beth?”