THE PEAS OF POZZUOLI
A gentle pastoral romp, in which a young man moves to a quaint seaside town to heal after a series of personal tragedies. While there, he becomes entangled in the lives and loves of a colourful backstreet community.
CHAPTER ONE
The affluent and sparse district of Idwick lay approximately five miles west of the dense lair of ne’er-do-wells, or metropolitan prefecture, of Bradbury Town.
That grimy central district, and the greater sprawl of Bradbury Gate, had their names derived from the Broad River, which ran west-east through a once-lush valley, from Idwick to the Port of Sunk.
Idwick was, somewhat predictably, named after its crumbling medieval castle, a castle which, despite some optimistic assertions to the contrary by the local tourist board, was not worthy of further description.
That is, unless you wish to count its use by real ale enthusiasts as a convenient place to urinate as they merrily jaunt between bustling public houses.
Edward Whetstone, whom the reader should henceforth welcome as their protagonist, understood that he lived something of a charmed existence in dear old Iedereen House.
To paraphrase the boy’s own words, why would a person want for anything else than a privileged lifestyle in a seven-bedroom gated estate with, and this is the most enticing part, numerous artisan water features?
They would not. And should not.
However, Edward was, as many wealthy layabouts find themselves, to be somewhat bored of his charmed existence. As was his older sibling, Angelica. She stood, as Edward sat watching, in front of her bedroom mirror, trying on appropriate attire for a forthcoming formal meeting to arrange employment.
Or a “job interview”, to the reader and the author.
Suffice to say, Edward was not having a jolly time of it. Patience was not his strong suit. But Angelica adored her little brother’s attention, whether he was emotionally along for the narcissistic ride or not.
“I’m not sure about this belt.” Said Angelica, twisting her slight frame in the hope that, eventually, she would discover an angle that would please her.
Edward returned his drifting attention back to his anxious sibling.
“Just wear a low-cut top.” He said, wading through the pile of blouses on the bed next to him. “I’m sure they won’t be looking at your belt if your tits are out!”
Angelica scowled and threw a rolled up scarf at him. It bounced lightly off his forehead.
“Edward! Take this seriously!” She said, whipping off the belt and retiring it to a growing pile of accessories.
Edward sighed, curling the scarf of mass destruction back up into a tidy loop.
“How can I?! You should have female friends for this, you know!” He said, his torso flopping back onto the sheets. “Or a gay male friend.”
The young woman stomped over to her red-headed fashion critic and slapped his knee.
“Well, you’ll just have to do, won’t you.”
Edward rubbed his stinging knee and straightened its trouser leg.
“I think the chauffeur’s gay.” He said, as Angelica began sifting through the blouses.
“They all are, sweetie, what’s your point?!” She said, finding the sort of low-cut affair Edward had suggested.
“No point. I’m just bored.” He said, looking at the bawdy clothing item his sister now held against her torso for inspection. “I wasn’t being serious about the top. The belt was fine. Just make sure you pick the right shoes for it.”
Angelica smirked knowingly and dropped the blouse back onto its parent pile.
“I thought as much. Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?!” She said, perching herself on Edward’s knee and kissing his cheek.
“Don’t.” He said, squirming as little brothers are want to do.
Despite his petulant protestations, Angelica wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.
“Are you going to come with me for moral support?” She said, a nervous quiver in her voice.
“Of course.” Said Edward, returning his attention to the incidental play of light on the window pane.
It had been his one totem of sanity throughout this entire ordeal.
“I love you.” Said Angelica, battling her crisis of confidence. “Do you love me too?!”
Edward noticed how the light on the window pane shifted slightly, no doubt due to the Earth’s natural rotation.
“You know I do, stop fishing for compliments.”
“You’re a bastard.” Angelica said, a mere mutter as her mind found itself elsewhere.
“So are you.” Edward said, pushing his sister off his lap and standing to straighten the frustratingly-tangled drapes. “This has been bothering me all afternoon!”
Angelica’s once alert posture sank into a depressed slump.
“You think I shouldn’t be bothering, don’t you?!” She said, staring blankly into the mists of her own future. “You think I should just work for father!”
Edward, after much obsessive compulsive twitching, found himself at peace with the drapery arrangement. He stepped back to admire his sudden-onset interior decorating skills.
‘Perhaps we should just change the drapes altogether.” He said, rubbing his chin for inspiration.
“Edward!”
“Oh. No. Of course I don’t think that! You have lots of potential, and will be a sterling addition to any workforce!” He said, with rehearsed precision.
“Thanks.” His sister said, throwing a shoe at her brother’s lower back. “And what about you? You can’t shuffle around this bloody morgue for the rest of your life!”
Edward retrieved the abusive shoe from the floor and knelt down at Angelica’s feet. Taking on the role a prince in.a romantic fairytale, he slipped the sensible kitten heal over the young woman’s bare toes.
“Who says I can’t?”
Angelica lifted her other foot for Edward’s attention.
“Everybody, but we’re all too polite to say it.” She said, rubbing his unkempt mop. “Mum’s not coming back, you know.”
“I know she’s not, but dad needs me.” He said, then thought for a moment. “He needs us. All of us.”
Angelica peered into her brother’s melancholic soul. He had lost more than just his mother in recent years.
“Are you missing…?”
“No!” Said Edward, immediately regretting his harsh tone. “Yes, of course I am.”
The other shoe was placed firmly next to its enduring partner.
“Thank you, Young Master Charming!” Said Angelica, pouncing off the bed and spinning for her shimmering reflection.
“Please, we’re well-off, but we’re not ‘incest is acceptable’ well-off.” Edward said, snatching the curled up belt Angelica had left on the ‘maybe’ pile. “Now let’s see them with the belt, so you can finally leave me alone.”
⬅︎ SHORT PREQUEL
