little boring bits that made up the lives of normal people.
“Another dreary Wednesday,” he said, giving up on the idea of watching the rest of the game and turning to talk to Steven. “I even managed to persuade the gladioli to save their budding for the weekend when we have more customers.”
“Good lad. You will let me know when you get the new lot of dahlias in? Your auntie wants some for a friend’s back terrace.”
His two cousins arrived, and as usual, they were in the middle of a squabble. The taller of the two was sporting blue hair and looked angry, while his younger brother was smirking, and Robert saw traces of blue dye under his fingernails.
“Bloody hell, Gavin, what have you done to your hair?” said Steven in horror, spotting his oldest son.
“Ask Git Zit here. He laced my new shampoo with hair dye.”
Robert laughed and tried to hide it behind his beer bottle, but his uncle was not impressed. “Jesus, Stuart, you’re worse than the twins!”
“Hey, that’s not fair,” said Stuart, affronted. “At least it wasn’t puce.”
Steven scowled. “You’re not twelve anymore. Time to start acting your age.”
Stuart and Gavin took seats at the table, beer bottles already in hand. “I can’t believe I spent most of the afternoon giving a police statement,” said Gavin, helping himself to the nuts Robert had bought earlier. “You’d have thought that by now the cops would take ‘I have superpowers’ as a legitimate response to how I stopped a bank robber.”
“It’s not like we’re in the States, Gav,” said Robert with a shrug. “The British police are still getting used to the idea that the comic books were right.”
“I blame that twat, the Green Furnace, for his viral YouTube video. If he hadn’t filmed himself torching that van, I doubt we’d get half the shite we do.”
“The important thing was we stopped the robbery and none of us were hurt,” said Steven, raising his bottle for a toast, and then the three other men clinked bottles. “And that brings me to what I want to talk to you all about.”
Gavin looked confused. “Something wrong, Dad?”
“I know we’ve talked about this before, and you’ve all been dead set against it, but it’s time for me to take a step back.”
“Is this about what happened with the guard?” asked Robert. “Because none of us could’ve known he was in on the job. He’d have got the drop of any of us.”
“It’s good of you to say, Bobby, but you know that ain’t true.”
Gavin and Stuart rushed to disagree, but their dad wasn’t having any of it. “I’m sorry, boys, but my mind’s made up. One last mission, and I’m hanging up my cape for good.”
“You retiring? What you gonna do, spend days watching daytime telly and gardening? I’m telling you, Dad, you ain’t made for sitting on your arse.”
“No, I’m going to go and help Bobby’s dad with the farm. Since John’s spent his life making sure we’ve a home to go to, seems only fair that I lend a hand now we’re both getting on a bit.”
“You’ve spoken to my dad about this?” asked Robert, surprised. He’d suspected his uncle had been thinking about quitting, but he didn’t think Steven had actually started making plans. Maybe he just hadn’t wanted to believe Steven would really walk away from them. They worked well as a unit, but it was more than that. Having his uncle and his cousins by his side had made it easier when he’d left the farm, given him an anchor when he’d most needed it, when he’d doubted himself and the decisions he’d made. And on days when a rescue didn’t go exactly to plan, he still needed them.
“Yeah, spoke to him last night,” said Steven. “He called to tell us about one of the neighbor’s farms being put up for sale, and wondered if we should consider an offer.”
Robert nearly knocked his beer bottle over. “Which neighbor?”
“The Flints—the ones to the west.”
The mention of Mike’s family