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There is a God and his name is Richie

There is a God and his name is Richie

Tuesday 27 January 2009

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Richie scrunched his nose up as the smell of burning toast wafted through the kitchen.

‘God I could even burn water.’ he thought as he gingerly pulled the blackened bread from out of the toaster and dropped them in the bin.

His stomach rumbled and he wondered, for a moment, whether sending Anna back to the states had been such a good idea. Yes, she was brainless and would’ve been too much of a temptation but she could at least make him some toast without burning it. He shook his head. Nah, she was just too brainless, even for him, and by god he’d dated some of the most brainless yet beautiful women in the world. He sniggered. Who the hell needed brains with tits that size?

Sighing he picked up two fresh pieces of bread and put them in the toaster, carefully turning the level down in the hope that they wouldn’t burn.

“Ok Richie I’m outta here, I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

Jon walked into the kitchen and laughed at the sight of his usually finely groomed best friend wearing a cooks apron and looking completely frazzled.

“Oh man, you are totally useless in the kitchen aren’t ya?”

“Jon, make me some toast please? I’m starving and can’t get this fucking thing to work.” he whined plaintively as his stomach gave a huge rumble.

With a huge sigh Jon walked over to the toaster and checked the settings before getting out a frying pan and checking the fridge for eggs and bacon. It was worth it just for the look of pure undying gratitude on his friend’s face.

Within a few minutes Richie was sat at the large kitchen table, munching happily on expertly cooked eggs, bacon, beans and toast with a huge mug of fresh coffee by the plate.

“Richie, enjoy.” Jon said with a smile, “I gotta go. Have fun bro, email Dot with any queries as you know I’m fuckin useless on those things, or call me. No, no don’t get up, not that ya would anyway, I’ll let myself out, Paul’s outside to pick me up.”

Richie waved at him, his mouth full of crispy bacon and hot egg yolk and a happy smile on his face.

Jon just hoped that the PA the Agency were sending over knew how to cook or there was going to be a lot less of his best friend to go around.


Erin stood outside the imposing black front door, checked her reflection in a small mirror to make sure her hair was still in the chignon Gwen had done earlier that morning, and reached out to ring the doorbell just as the front door opened.

“Er hi, I’m Erin, I’m from the Agency.” she said, looking up at the thin but well built blonde man in front of her, motioning towards her suitcase. She turned back to him, wondering why he looked familiar in his tight jeans, black bomber jacket and sunglasses.

“Oh hi, I’m Jon and I’m leaving. The guy you want is in there. Have fun, and I sure hope you can cook.”

With that he swept past her and entered a black car parked on the kerbside.

Erin looked around for a few moments and then pulled her suitcase in to the hallway. There was a staircase in front of her and an archway to the right of it. She sniffed, she could smell fried breakfast and deciding that the kitchen was through the archway, she left her suitcase in the narrow, high ceilinged hallway and walked through the archway.

“Hello?” she called out as she walked through the archway into a corridor, “I’m Erin, from the Agency.”

She rounded a small corner and walked into a large but cosy kitchen, dominated by a huge kitchen table in the middle of it.

A familiar looking man sat at the table, his eyes closed in what looked like utter bliss as he ate the last bite of what appeared to be toast.

Erin stood in the doorway, uncertain as to what she should do. She’d called out but he obviously hadn’t heard her. She stood and looked around the kitchen, taking in the beautiful top of the range Aga and the huge American style fridge. The kitchen was painted a muted terracotta colour with Spanish accent tiles dotted in amongst the white splash back tiles.

Feeling completely out of place as the man at the table picked up his mug and drank deeply from it, his eyes still closed, she walked over to him, her footsteps muffled by a large rug, and tapped him on the shoulder.

Richie’s eyes flew open as he felt someone tap him. He choked on the mouthful of coffee he’d just taken and looked at the person standing in front of him, he backed away from the table as he suddenly couldn‘t breathe and wild eyed, motioned for her to help him.

“Oh shit.” Erin muttered as she slapped the man hard on the back to try and help him stop choking. She hoped it would work as she really didn’t want to try and do the Heimlich Manoeuvre on him as he looked really buff.

Richie breathed hard as air flowed back into his lungs. Jesus fucking H Christ! What the fuck? Dimly he remembered something Jon had told him about having a PA/cook come and live in with him to take care of him. He sank back into the seat and finally looked up,

“YOU!!”

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