Chapter 55: Chapter 55

Chapter 55 Goodbye Mr. Biscuit!

Grandma, Ella and a few laborers were all tears when Brian drove into the compound and rushed into the ball room. He scarcely could ask anyone what the problem was because everyone was sober and all tears. He stood gaping, confused about his next line of action. Thought of Mr. Biscuit struck in his head and he made to its room, combing around for it.

“Mr. Biscuit! Mr. Biscuit!” he chanted as he left its room to search in his room. The moment he opened the door, on the floor was a figure covered with a sheet. His hands convulsed massively as he squatted to unveil the figure. And when he did the lifeless body of Mr. Biscuit flashed before his eyes. The pet died the moment it stopped falling early hours in the morning. Brian stroked its fluffy hairs and felt how cold they were now. The smart dog had died with its pink tongue stuck out; it lay helplessly on the floor with all its limbs falling to the left side and a lump of blood had caked under its lower mandible.

“No!!” Brian wailed at the top of his voice, hugging and pressing Mr. Biscuit into his chest. “I am sorry. I am so sorry for my negligence,” he cried, pulling and staring at its dead face and kissing it. “Forgive me, I am so sorry please. I never knew it would get to this,” Brian wailed, gnashing his teeth.

He carried the remains of Mr. Biscuit in his arms and advanced to the ball room where grandma and everyone were mourning on end. When he got to the middle of the ball room, he placed the remains on the floor and squatted to it, lamenting at the top of his voice – it was so touchy that Ella had to leave her spot to cuddle Brian.

Grandma grinned at Brian, unable to fight back the spite and curse going on in her mind. “Laborers leave us,” she commanded.

“Don’t utter a word while she barks at you,” Ella whispered an advice into Brian’s ears before she left the ball room and shut the door, but stuck her ears at the door to listen to every of their conversation.

“You know what , Brian, we are not going to bury that pet until you tell me where you spent the night,” grandma queried, the veins in her neck standing out in anger and her hostile face showed of a truth she was depressed; her face went blue at Brian. “Did you check your phone?” asked grandma toddling to the coffee shelf to pour herself a cupful of black coffee.

“Yes, I did.” Brian replied numbly, having his heart throbbed with so great a pressure that he confirmed for the first time how much he loved and respected grandma.

“You weren’t returning home last night and you never phoned to tell me.”

“I was in a deep mess. The rain spoilt everything. My car broke down and I was stranded.”

She had a sip, wishing she wouldn’t raise her voice because her doctor had warned her against doing such which could raise her blood pressure.

“You were with Mr. Biscuit, planning to take it to the vet only for you to disappear and visit some random friend of yours. You killed Mr. Biscuit,” she said finally and coughed hugely.

Brian raised his voice, “I didn’t. The rain had started when I was about returning home and my car broke down also. Everything had happened in flash.”

“Where did you spend the night? Did you sleep on the road?” She looked straight into his eyes, “Look up here, nanny’s boy and don’t lie to me. Where did you spend the night that made you ignore my phone calls?” grandma asked, her face changing into an unfriendly sight to behold.

Brian recalled the nemesis Meyer had caused grandma which left her under the artificial oxygen for weeks and deemed it troublesome to mention her name at this hour.

“I spent the night in my car,” he mumbled, believing he lied perfectly.

Grandma shook her head, “You can’t tell me you spent the night in your car and you couldn’t hear phone calls. Were you on cheap drugs?”

Brian shut his eyes briefly and smiled with impatience. “Grandma, come on, when your phone is on silence do you hear it ring?” His face held fire as he stared sternly at grandma.

She toddled to him. “Mr. Biscuit is dead. When you weren’t forthcoming, it searched the whole place for you, frequenting your room, because it believed its life was in your hands and just beholding you will change the narrative. It earnestly hunted for your presence that was why it died in your room. Do you know the message it passed; it meant I died in your room. When you get back take my meat and eat.” She pointed at the remains on the floor. “On the floor is Mr. Biscuit, a dog that served and loved you more than the whore in whose house you spent the night. How did she taste? Hope you had fun?”

Brian scowled and protested, “I never spent the night in a whore’s house…”

She interrupted, “Keep shut.” Tears rained down her cheeks and her jaw trembled like the strings on a guitar. “That is the meat of Mr. Biscuit, eat it. Gracias,” she said in Spanish, and toddled away.

Immediately Ella disappeared from the door and made to her flat.

Brian’s eyes were welled up with tears and just right there tears rained down his cheeks as he carried the remains of Mr. Biscuit and made outside. As for his crying there was no stopping him because the guilt of killing Mr. Biscuit hit his heart like shells from the guns of warring soldiers.

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Kate glared into the space after an endearing thought of teaching Tony the lesson of his life; and then an idea struck in her mind. She knew where he hid his piles of cocaine; in a false bag buried in the ceiling at the garage of his house same was applicable to his boss. She picked up her phone to dial 911…

Troublesome days ahead.