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Authors: Lacey Dearie

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BOOK: The Tangled Web
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Comments

 

Scarlett McDonald
– 3rd January 18:02

I thought I was your best friend!!! :(  And it was a
seagull.

 

Christos Polycarpou
– 3rd January 19:49

You have me intrigued.  But I’m not going to ask how your
parents got their money.  Looking forward to the blog about how dinner went.

 

Adam Robertson

3rd January 23:02

One day, that Mr. Universe crown will be mine!!!
Mwahahahaha!

3

 

3
rd
January

 

It was certainly the house which stood out most in the
street.  The whole area screamed “straight-laced,” with the exception of this
house, which screamed, “more money than sense.”  Although it was dark, Flic
could tell the house had been painted a different colour from the others around
it.  There had to be at least a dozen hanging baskets dotted around the front
garden, all filled to the brim with cheerful winter flowers.  While the other
gardens in the street had been paved and chipped, this one had been turned into
a miniature crazy golf course.  There were three putting greens, one with an
Arc de Triumph to putt through, one with a Taj Mahal and another humped green
going over a small pond, which on closer inspection appeared to be Loch Ness,
the humps being the back of the monster.

Flic pressed her finger against the doorbell, expecting a
ding-dong.  She couldn’t help but smile when the James Bond theme tune was
played and she guessed this was a family with a sense of humour.  She decided
that was a good start.  At least they wouldn’t be boring.  The last thing she
needed tonight was an evening of stilted conversation and formalities. 

She tried to calm her nerves by reminding herself that
Maggie was meeting her boyfriend’s family for the first time, so was bound to
be more nervous than she was, although reaching for a glass of wine was a far
more tempting way of getting rid of her jitters.

There was no response at the door.  That struck her as
odd.  She was asked to arrive at quarter to six.  It was ten to six now.  She
always drove slowly and was a few minutes late for everything.  Better late in
this life than early in the next was her motto. 

Was this the right house?  She pushed the bell again and
smoothed back her ponytail nervously.  The ponytail, she had decided, made her
look younger.  She was conscious of the fact she was older than Adam and he
looked to be in his early twenties, meaning Maggie could possibly still be in
her teens. 

Flic shrugged her shoulder uncomfortably.  She was laden
down on one arm with bags of dessert – chopped and tinned fruits, a small
fondue set given to her as a Secret Santa present and her leftover chocolate
from Christmas.  Vicky had insisted she didn’t have to bring anything but she
had refused to visit without contributing to the meal.  Given the circumstances
of their meeting this morning, and the fact she had now considerably sobered up
and didn’t want to go over the edge again, she decided it was a bad idea to
bring wine. 

She thumped the bag down on the step and rattled on the
letterbox.  A can of mandarins spilled from one of the bags and she rushed
after it, out of the driveway and halfway down the street.  She had just
collected it when she heard the door open and close again.  Someone had opened
the door, taken the bag of dessert and then shut the door. 

Trying not to run back in case her stilettos let her down
in the frosty weather, she made it a quick business-like march instead,
imagining how ridiculous she must look marching up the street holding a can of
mandarins.  The door opened again just as she reached the steps.

‘Maggie?’ quizzed a teenage girl with a heavily black
lipsticked mouth.

‘Flic,’ she replied and offered her hand to shake.  ‘Nice
to meet you.’

‘Pamela,’ the girl shook her hand in response.  ‘You don’t
seem like a snooty cow at all.’

Vicky arrived at the door in time to hear Pamela’s remark
and closed her eyes softly, signalling an inner-cringe.  ‘Ignore her!  She’s
got a weird sense of humour, as you’ll find out,’ Vicky covered.

‘Nice accent by the way,’ Pamela called back as she
disappeared through to the living room.

‘I brought dessert.  It’s chocolate fondue,’ Flic cheered,
attempting to ignore the eccentricity she had already been met with.

‘My mother will love you for that!  So will I actually….’
Vicky trailed off as she lifted the bag of goodies and poked her head inside. 
‘Come in, take a seat.  Adam and his new girlie aren’t here yet so we’ve got
time to introduce you to my parents and have a quick chat.’

‘You’ve got a lovely garden.  Really fun!’ Flic attempted a
compliment.

Vicky groaned.  ‘My Dad’s idea.  And my Mum’s design. 
They’re a little bit strange.’

‘Oh, ok,’ Flic blushed.  She wasn’t quite sure how to
respond to that.  ‘It’s quite an impressive design.  What does your mother
do?’  She gingerly sat down on the edge of a cream leather sofa, hoping her
indigo jeans wouldn’t stain it and removed her long grey coat.

‘I’ll take that for you,’ Vicky offered.  ‘She was an
engineer in another life.  She works for Ann Summers now.’

‘Right,’ Flic responded absent-mindedly, too focused on her
surroundings. 

The photographs hanging on the walls and mantelpiece told a
story of a very unusual family.  It was hard to believe that Vicky was a part
of this group of people.  There were older pictures, possibly from the
seventies judging by the fashions, of a glamorous couple, the man always
smartly dressed in suits and the woman in a variety of sensational dresses and
haircuts which undoubtedly had been fashionable in their day.

She followed the story in pictures, seeing a baby appear,
then another, then a little later there were two children holding another
baby.  School pictures followed, along with snapshots taken around various
famous landmarks.  A man stood next to Vicky in some of the later pictures. 
Clearly they all enjoyed travelling.  Then she noticed a more recent picture of
Vicky holding a baby.  The man who had been by her side had vanished.  It was
clearly her own child.

‘I see you’ve been having a look at the family portraits,’
Vicky said, returning from having hung up the coat.

‘Yeah.  You’ve done a lot of travelling.  And your parents
looked very glamorous in their day,’ Flic noted.

‘We’ve been a few holidays,’ Vicky shrugged.

‘Is that your baby there?’ Flic asked pointing to the most
recent photo.

‘Yeah, that’s me and Sasha, my daughter,’ Vicky smiled.

‘Where is she?’ Flic bobbed her head around looking for
evidence of a baby in the house.  She couldn’t see any.

‘She’s in the kitchen with my mum.  It’s Sasha’s favourite
room in the house.  She likes to talk to the vegetable rack.  Earlier tonight
she was chatting away to a butternut squash.’

Flic laughed, imagining the scene.

‘I blame Mr. Bloom’s Nursery,’ Vicky shook her head.

‘What does your dad do for a living?’ Flic enquired.  She
was sure he had to have an exciting job, given the size of the house, area they
lived in and amount of travelling they’d obviously done.

‘Dad’s a mystery shopper,’ Vicky answered.

Flic mulled this over for a second.  She was sure there wasn’t
much money involved in either mystery shopping or working for Ann Summers, as
fun as they both sounded.  Vicky didn’t appear to want to elaborate so she
decided to change the subject.

‘Your family are all so good looking too,’ Flic praised.

‘Yeah.  They are.  I don’t know why I turned out so average
though,’ Vicky contemplated.

Flic was about to tactfully rubbish that statement, even
though she thought there was some truth in it when the doorbell sounded again. 

‘They’re here already?  You haven’t even met Sasha or my
parents yet!  I’ll be back shortly, I want to suss out Maggie before Pamela
gets to her,’ Vicky blurted, rushing towards the door.

Vicky fled, closely followed by Pamela who had swept
through the room within seconds of the doorbell sounding.  Flic was left alone
once again.  She glanced around the room again and decided to see where Pamela
had come from.  She cautiously peered around the door and was surprised to find
it was a library.  The shelves were stacked with paperback books from the
ceiling to the floor and the only furniture was a single soft cosy looking
armchair. 

Flic edged away from the library and sat down on the couch
again.  She retrieved her compact from her handbag and scrutinised her
make-up.  All in place and looking as good as it was when she left the house. 
Her hair colour could do with a freshen up though.  At least it was clean and
tidy, and the black dye made it shine healthily.  She squirted a little more
perfume from her atomiser onto the back of her neck and took a deep breath. 
She felt ready for battle.

Flic had been interested in Adam since she first started
visiting the gym last January.  She had always seen him surrounded by female
gym-bunnies, looking all young and toned and naturally pert.  Flic on the other
hand had to work at her fitness.  She was convinced her bum cheeks were falling
down the back of her legs.  She had always meant to go over and strike up a
conversation with him once she was feeling a bit sexier and more confident. 
That day hadn’t arrived.  But now, she reasoned, she had nothing to lose.

Voices reached her from the other side of the door.  She
couldn’t hear anyone other than Vicky, Pamela and Adam.  Perhaps Maggie had
changed her mind after all and decided not to come to dinner.  She was sure she
could see four silhouettes through the glass though.  Two of them were very
tall.  And masculine looking. 

That doesn’t make sense, she thought. 

Vicky opened the door to the living room and beamed, ‘Flic,
this is Magnus, Adam’s friend.’  She stood aside to reveal a tall blonde man
with strong features and alarmingly green eyes.  He reminded Flic of He-Man,
minus the warrior costume.  He looked trendy – possibly the same age as Flic -
but he dressed younger.  He was the type who wore jeans, a t-shirt and a scarf
but no jacket.  Flic just didn’t understand how that could be warm enough in
this weather and made a snap judgement that he was a vain idiot.  Despite her
own vanity, she always made an effort to dress weather-appropriately.  Nothing
was more unflattering to someone’s looks, in her opinion, than chattering
teeth.

Flic stood and prepared herself for a handshake but was
instead greeted with a double cheek kiss.  She then determined he was also a
bit of a smoothie, before he had even said a word.

‘I’m Magnus Pellicci, it’s lovely to meet you Flip,’ he
smarmed.

‘It’s nice to meet you too, and it’s Flic actually,’ she
corrected.

‘Oh, forgive me,’ he grinned.  ‘I’m terrible with names,
but I never forget a pretty face.  And I’ve seen yours before, at the gym.’  A
wink followed.

Flic couldn’t recall ever having seen this man before – and
he was quite striking so she was sure she would have remembered him.  She
wasn’t usually one to disregard a flattering remark but as she guessed they
were the norm for Magnus, she paid no notice to it and turned her attentions to
Adam.

‘Nice to see you again,’ she grinned, hoping for a double
cheek kiss from him too.  She was disappointed though when he agreed with her
and then asked Vicky what dinner was to be that night.  It was clear Vicky
wasn’t going to be much help to her tonight in her attempt to get Adam’s
attention.  She was too busy admiring He-Man.

‘Are you all coming through?’ a female asked from beyond a
second door in the living room. 

‘Be there in a minute, Mum,’ Adam called back. 

There were a few minutes of removing coats, scarves and
gloves and Vicky hung them up, though Magnus, after some kind of internal
struggle, decided he would keep his scarf on. 

The five of them made their way through to a small dining
room.  No photo gallery in here, Flic noted.  There were, however, a few
paintings of street scenes in various European cities, with the corresponding
landmarks in the backgrounds.

They were met by the glamorous couple from the photographs
and Vicky’s daughter Sasha who was already in her high chair sucking on a
rusk.  Introductions were made and everyone took a seat, Vicky making sure that
she and Magnus were side by side.  Flic was seated across from Adam, which
suited her fine.  That meant plenty of opportunity for eye contact.

‘When Adam said he was bringing his partner Maggie, we
weren’t sure what to expect!’ exclaimed the older man who had been introduced
as Bob. 

‘We thought you were a woman he was having it off with,’
Pamela hooted.

BOOK: The Tangled Web
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