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Joel gets back inside to the sound of bickering.
Not unusual, obviously, for Grian and Jim. They’d probably explode if they went more than a day without finding one thing or another to squabble about, having heard them go at it long enough. He idles by the entryway, trying to get a feel for what they’re on about this time.
“Oh, come on,” Jimmy’s saying, “I was literally fine!”
“But you could have been injured,” Grian snaps, “and then what am I supposed to do, huh? Joel? We’re gonna pull your bones out of the litter tray, is that it?”
“It’s fine. All I did was go up to it. I didn’t even touch it.”
“Timmy, it’s a cat, it’s bigger than all of us, and you don’t have a weapon.”
“Okay, so we’ll find me one! I can borrow the scissors, or one of them little blades from the mantel, or something.”
“You don’t think the human beans are going to notice if they lose something like that?”
Joel decides to step in before this can get any messier. “What are you two on about?”
“Timmy’s decided to make friends with the cat,” Grian manages to edge in ahead of Jimmy for first response.
“OK, well - first of all, his name’s Norman.”
“I don’t care what its name is, Tim!”
“And you let us keep Judge Judy and Executioner!”
“That’s a completely different situation,” she pinches the bridge of her nose, “because Judge Judy Whatever is a frog, and you’re not really even keeping it, you just made a little stick house for it at the back of the tree.”
“Right,” says Joel.
“And I didn’t let you do anything. I’m not your boss. Joel, can you please tell him to stop going up to the cats?”
Joel flicks eyes between them both, a little bit mouse-in-matchlight. “Erm,” he begins, “well, yeah, don’t kill yourself -”
“Come on!”
“- but at the same time… the cat’s not, like, a threat, is it?”
He’s seen the cat - Norman, is what the human beans call it, and apparently Jim does too - about the bakery a fair amount. Supposedly, it’s here to catch the rats, but there aren’t really that many rats round here. (Probably because of these three, who defend their territory pretty valiantly. You’ve gotta, if you wanna keep such a small clan of Borrowers alive.) It spends most of its time dozing by the oven, licking itself, and eating those strange little pebbles of food that the human beans drop in its bowl each morning. Joel doesn’t find it all that hard to believe that Jimmy was able to get right up close to it without being eaten.
Grian sniffs. “Do what you like, then. Your funeral.”
“Good!” says Jimmy. “‘Cos I will!”
He makes a face, a little taunting head jerk, with stubborn eyes. Joel feels awkward more than anything. He was just going to get everyone updated on his quick trip out to the edge of the allotment, how he’d seen a good couple of fallen cherry tomatoes that they could haul back in if they’d gone out on another expedition as a group. Now he’s the arbiter of Jimmy’s life, apparently?
Jim doesn’t leave, though. He looks like he’s about to, but instead he lingers, leaning one hand against the wall by the “window”. (It’s a big piece of paper they found in the bin once and hauled inside. There are scrawls on the back that must be human bean writing. The picture, though, is a lovely landscape of trees and water that they like to think of as their own view of the outside world. More convenient than poking a hole through the brick.)
“Jim?”
He sighs. “I don’t wanna scare you guys.”
“Well, you’re certainly not doing a good job of that,” says Grian.
“Shut up,” he tells her.
Jimmy continues, “It’s - I mean, I don’t think it’s dangerous, I think it’s a big soft thing that hasn’t killed anything in its life and I could probably ride it ‘round the house at night without a problem -”
“Jim,” he nudges.
“- but - I don’t know, I don’t wanna make you think you need to plan a funeral. ‘S hard enough out here, on our own, I’m not trying to make it any harder.”
Grian still looks put out, but there’s something more sombre in it, too. It’s been just the three of them for a long, long time. They had kin, once, but the others had died, or vanished, or split when they moved; they only have each other these days. They’re damn lucky that they found such a good spot to hide out in, living off whatever they can scrounge from the allotment, and a few crumbs from expeditions into the bakery when they’re lucky. Borrowing is in their blood, but it’s a risky way to live. They need to stick together if they want to survive.
“Obviously you guys need me,” says Jimmy.
“Yeah, alright,” says Joel.
“So you’re gonna stay away from the cat?”
“Eh - well, I didn’t say that -”
“Timmy!”
“No, I’m joking, I’m joking, I am! I’ll leave it alone, yeah, I’ll just - I’ll go down, make it a bit nicer for Judge Judy and Executioner, give her a little leaf arrangement or something. We don’t still have any thread left, do we?”
“I think we’ve got the blue one still,” says Grian, looking a good bit more relieved. “Not today, though. I’m still annoyed, you’re gonna have to sit in ‘till I stop thinking you’re gonna go straight back out and mess with the pets again.”
Jimmy huffs. “Fineee.”
“Joel!” Finally, she turns to him properly. “Glad you’re back. Don’t need any more scares today. How was your expedition?”
“Was alright,” he shrugs, “I found some tomatoes but they were a bit big for me. I’ve got a pea pod and a couple of blackcurrants in here.”
“Brilliant, thanks,” says Grian, “and Tim, you’re making dinner, yeah?”
“Because you’re mad at me?”
“No, it’s just your turn. And -” she cuts herself off with a sigh “- and I was never mad. I just worry. Because you’re so stupid sometimes.”
“Oi,” says Jim, swatting at her.
Instead of flapping back, though, Grian just pulls him into a hug. Jimmy startles, but then he wraps her into his chest, intense, unyielding.
There’s a beat.
“Get in here,” Grian says, muffled into Jimmy’s chest, “what are you waiting for?”
So Joel comes over, and lets himself be hugged as well. All that they have is each other, after all. He’d be a fool not to take them up on getting more of it when it’s offered.