Page 129 of Shroom for Improvement

“Let me introduce you to my acquaintance, Jacques Rochefort, from the Agaricus Town Council,” Mr Greene said.

Jacques finally stepped out of Mr Greene’s convertible. He narrowed his eyes at John, then turned his attention to me. “Lord Stinkhorn, I’m afraid I do not bring good news.”

“Not according to that twit’s face,” John said, pointing at Mr Greene’s despicable smirk.

“John, please.” Jacques spared John a withering look. The kind that parents reserved for children who acted out in public. Then he arranged his features into something more closely resembling patience, and fixed his eyes on me. He presented me with a scroll. The ancient sort with rolling-pin handles. But it wasn’t ancient. The paper was crisp white and brand new.

I unfurled the top part. It had been printed with today’s date. Twentieth of June.

I unfurled it more.

John read it from over my shoulder, whispering, “What the fuck? What the fucking fuck?” the entire time.

Willow read it from under my elbow while Oggy sobbed.

On this day, notice will be served on Lord Claude Angus Pangus Stinkhorn, of Stinkhorn Manor, Agaricus, for the COMPULSORY PURCHASE ORDER of Stinkhorn Manor and The Night Cap Bed and Breakfast, by Agaricus Town Planning and Construction Authority.

Reasons sited for CPO: Unstable building, non-standard construction, non-compliance with building regulations, multiple violations of Health and Safety standards, live exoticand illegal animals kept as pets, ongoing threat to life, and harbouring unregistered cadavers.

Residents have 24 hours from service of notice to evacuate the premises. Demolition of the property will begin at 10:30 a.m. on 21st June. Any property left on site after this time will be signed over to Agaricus Town Planning and Construction Authority, and will no longer be retrievable.

To compensate you for the upheaval and distress this may cause, Agaricus Town Council is prepared to offer a one-time settlement fee equivalent to the current market value of 375,000 silvers.

Alternative arrangements may be made with one of Agaricus Town Council’s official business partners. These options will be made clear to you at the tendering of this notice.

“Has everyone finished reading?” I asked, unnaturally calmly. They nodded, seemingly unable to process the information or speak. I brandished the scroll at Jacques and Mr Greene in turn. “Kindly explain WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS!” I yelled, and followed it with a, “PLEASE!” because I was always forgetting those pesky pleases.

Mr Greene’s eyes widened, his tongue darted out, his smile never left his face.

Jacques gave a nervous cough. “For the reasons stated on the notice, we, Agaricus Town Council, are taking ownership of your property. It is a compulsory purchase order, meaning there is nothing you can do about it. The house will be levelled and the land auctioned off to developers.”

“Jacques, come on, man,” John said, placing a hand on the councillor’s forearm. Jacques followed the movement with his eyes. “I know things between us have been rocky since—”

“Don’t,” Jacques breathed.

“But this is my home, too,” John finished. “Where do you expect me to go? Move in with you and Felix?”

Jacques turned his head slightly, closed his eyes, and sucked at his teeth. Then, as though he’d reached a silent decision, he turned his focus back to John. “You have twenty-four hours to pack your belongings and vacate the grounds.”

“Absolutely not,” I said. I tried to rip the scroll through the middle, but the paper was made of some plasticky shit Sonny would hate, and it wouldn’t tear.

Mr Greene clicked his tongue like he was trying to summon a cat or a horse or something. He took the scroll from my hand. “Sell the property to me now, and I’ll give you five hundred thousand for your troubles.” From the inside pocket of his polyester suit jacket, he pulled out a sealed envelope. Presumably it held the new contract should I agree to sell to him.

“But you would also raze the building?”

“Semantics. Either way, the property will be flattened tomorrow,” he said with a shrug. “Would you rather receive three hundred and seventy-five thousand silvers or half a mil?”

John pointed to the scroll. “Ain’t no way the house is worth only that.”

“Over ninety-five percent of the property and the surrounding land is uninhabitable. The price is reflexive of that,” Mr Greene said. “There’s a gods-damned mortuary in there! And a room piled to the ceiling with actual shit.”

“I wasn’t speaking to you, you wankpuffin,” John said. He turned to the councillor, crowded right up into his space. “Jackie, please.”

Jacques assessed John for a long moment while my heart threw itself against my ribcage.

Was this really our only hope? Begging?

Then the fae buried his mouth near John’s ear and whispered something. Over my raging heartbeat, I had trouble hearing his words, though it sounded an awful lot like, “You had your chance.”

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