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Authors: Lacey Dearie

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BOOK: The Tangled Web
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‘I just didn’t want to say too much in front of Scarlett
this morning,’ Adam explained.

Magnus twitched in his seat and appeared uncomfortable. 
‘Well, Maggie has been a kind of jokey nickname of mine for a while.  I prefer
Mags or Magnus though.’

‘What’s Flic short for?’ Pamela quizzed.

‘It’s not short for anything,’ Flic fibbed.  She never used
her Sunday name and didn’t intend to give anyone the opportunity of doing so.

‘Do you all like Maria’s lasagne?’ Bob asked, to which they
all provided positive responses.  Flic inspected her plate.  So that’s what it
is, she thought.  It did resemble lasagne, as there were some sheets of pasta
but there were also some pasta shapes too.  Squinting and turning her head, she
tried to understand what the shapes were, but was baffled.

‘I ran out of lasagne sheets so I had to use the leftover
pasta from the last Ann Summers party,’ Maria pouted.

Oh God.  That’s what the shapes were.  Men’s bits.  Flic
gulped the mouthful of pasta down awkwardly and forced a smile.  She looked
over at Vicky who mouthed the words, ‘I’m so sorry,’ before inspecting her
daughter’s plastic plate.  It looked like Sasha just had mashed up vegetables
and crumbs of rusk thankfully.

‘Nobody has any food allergies do they?  Every time
Scarlett comes to dinner I seem to make something she’s allergic to,’ fretted
Maria.  They all confirmed they didn’t.

‘Scarlett?’ Magnus asked.

‘Vicky’s friend, and work colleague.  Pain in the
backside.  Total drama queen,’ Adam spat quickly.

‘That’s a very unusual name around here.  Can’t be many
Scarletts in Inverness,’ Magnus flustered.

If Flic hadn’t known any better she would have said that
she’d just witnessed Magnus blush.  She wondered if he and Scarlett had met
before.

‘That’s my mate you’re talking about Adam!’ Vicky
protested.

‘That’s an interesting mix of names you have Magnus,’ Maria
smiled, trying to avoid a feud.  It wasn’t surprising she worked for Ann
Summers.  She struck Flic as the type who can distract her audience from
embarrassing situations and looked ready to try and win everyone over with a
smile and a sex-themed consolation prize if her lasagne hadn’t hit the spot.

‘I had a Swedish mother and an Italian father,’ Magnus
enlightened them.

‘Oh, so you have all the charm of an Italian and the looks
of Scandinavians.  What a lovely combination!’ Maria flirted and winked.  Flic
noticed Vicky softly close her eyes in the cringing motion she had seen earlier
and gave her a sympathetic half-smile.

‘Anyway, let’s hear how Vicky and Flic met.  I hear you
just met earlier today,’ Bob changed the subject.

‘It’s actually quite funny!  I accidentally hit Flic in the
face with a s... pigeon,’ Vicky laughed, almost forgetting Flic’s inability to
distinguish breeds of bird.

‘A spigeon?  Take it you had to be there to appreciate the
humour,’ Pamela frowned.

Vicky ignored her and went on, ‘How is Jesse the pigeon
anyway, Flic?’

‘Oh, he died this afternoon.  I buried him in the communal
garden near my flat.’  Flic instantly regretted this announcement after seeing
how uncomfortable everyone had become.  She should have just lied and said he
was fine.  This wasn’t going well at all.  Where was her sparkling wit?  Her
effervescent conversational skills?  Did they get made redundant too?

Bob cleared his throat.  ‘We’re sorry for your loss,
girls.  Pamela, how was your day?’

‘It was alright I suppose.  I still haven’t come up with a
title for my musical yet,’ she grumped.

‘You should get Vicky to come up with something, she’s good
at that,’ Adam advised.

‘I’ve tried, I can’t think of anything,’ Vicky flustered,
visibly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation was taking.

‘Are you writing a musical?’ Magnus enquired, genuinely
interested.

‘Yeah.  You know how tribute musicals have been all the
rage for a while?  Like there’s Mamma Mia and We Will Rock You and Never
Forget?  Well, I’ve been trying to write a tribute musical of my own,’ Pamela
explained.

‘For which band?’ Flic asked.

‘Chaka Demus and Pliers,’ Pamela smiled.

Flic almost laughed out loud, then remembered how eccentric
this family were.  Her eyes darted towards Vicky for guidance.  Vicky’s lips
were pursed together and her eyes gave a stern warning.  Pamela was not joking.

‘Well, there IS a nineties revival right now.  That would
probably go in your favour if you were trying to market it,’ Flic reasoned.

‘If you need a business plan when you’ve finished the
writing process, come and see me.  I’ll be happy to help you explore your
options for getting your work out there,’ Magnus offered.  ‘I know some good
solicitors too, so they can advise you on copyright.’

‘Cheers Maggie,’ Pamela grinned.

‘Wouldn’t you be better making it a reggae musical in
general?’ Adam scowled.

‘That’s not my dream!  A Chaka Demus and Pliers musical is
my dream,’ Pamela protested.

‘It’s good to have dreams.  We should all follow our
dreams.  It’s exactly what Adam and I are doing by opening our own gym,’ Magnus
told them with a smirk.

Flic exhaled a sigh of relief.  So Magnus was his business
partner.  Adam was not gay.  For a few minutes she had wondered if Magnus was a
life partner. 

‘So you’re finally going to do it!  That’s wonderful news!’
Bob grinned, patting Adam on the back.  Adam nodded and beamed proudly in
response.

‘I wish I’d known we were celebrating, I’d have bought some
wine,’ Maria trilled.

 

*****

 

For the next half hour, the group excitedly talked about
locations, bank loans and business plans.  Pamela lost interest after ten
minutes and began playing Angry Birds on her phone.  The others were
enthusiastic though and Flic watched with amusement as Adam’s brown eyes seemed
to widen whenever the mention of the launch of his gym was brought up.  She
couldn’t remember the last time she had felt that his of enthusiasm about
something – or such an attraction to someone.

Flic left the room briefly to help Maria arrange the fondue
she had brought for pudding and Maria added some chocolate breast shapes to the
fondue mix.  When she returned, the topic of conversation had changed slightly.

‘I’m so glad one of my children is realising their dream. 
I always wanted to be a novelist.  That was
my
dream.  I wanted to be
the next Ian Fleming.  But those kind of novels weren’t my forte,’ Bob smiled
wistfully.

‘Vicky wants to be a novelist too, but she wants to be the
next Jackie Collins,’ Adam sniggered. 

‘I’d like to think I still could be one day!’ Vicky
objected.

‘I think that would be more up Dad’s street,’ Adam
sniggered.

Flic scowled, wondering what Adam meant with that comment. 
The only other person who seemed confused was Magnus.  They exchanged perplexed
expressions but said nothing.

‘You have to actually keep writing then Vicky,’ Maria
warned.  ‘I can’t remember the last time I read something of yours before that
blog this week.’

‘You have a blog?’ Bob brightened. 

‘Not really.  I’ve lost my motivation,’ squirmed Vicky,
hoping to avoid having to tell her father the contents of her New Year blog.

‘You really need motivation to follow a dream?  That can’t
be possible!’ Magnus scoffed.  ‘It’s easy to follow a dream or a vocation. 
Fighting it is what requires drive.  What inspired you before you lost your
inspiration?’

Flic was suddenly fascinated.  Vicky didn’t strike her as a
writer.  She had an image in her head of overtly intellectual types who sit in
Starbucks typing on their laptops, having done nothing but moan about how poor
they’ve been since leaving university – where they had obviously studied
something boring.  That’s how writers were meant to be in Flic’s mind.  Not
blonde twenty-something single mother undertakers with crazy families.  She was
also curious as to what had made Vicky lose enthusiasm to pursue her dream.

‘I just don’t think I have an interesting life.  You need
to live life to write about it.  I used to travel a lot and I had plenty of
stories to tell.  I had an active social life.  I had inspiration!  I lost it
all in the last couple of years,’ Vicky shrugged.

‘Nonsense!  What could be more inspiring than life itself! 
And being a parent?’ Bob enthused.

‘Whatever you need to write, I’ve lost it,’ Vicky snapped.

‘So get it back!’ Magnus exclaimed.

‘It’s not that simple,’ Vicky shook her head.

‘Make it up,’ Flic suggested.  ‘Isn’t that what writers
do?  They invent.’

Adam smiled at her.  ‘That’s what I’ve been telling her for
ages.  Take something boring and mundane and turn it into something people want
to read about.  It doesn’t matter if it’s true.  All she needs is the seed to
be planted.’

Flic returned the smile. 

The seven of them were silent for a moment while they
mulled this over and divided up the bowls of fruit between them.  Clearly
nobody wanted to be the first to dip into the fondue.  Sasha broke the silence
by throwing a chunk of a peach into the chocolate, the warm gloop splashing
onto Magnus’s forehead as a result and making Pamela hoot with laughter.  

‘I think we should make a rule that nobody double dips,’
Pamela proposed.

‘Agreed,’ Vicky said, licking her lips.

‘And nobody should follow the baby’s example and start a
food fight,’ Magnus grumped, wiping smatterings of chocolate from his scarf.

‘So what’s been your dream Flic?’ Adam asked, dunking a
strawberry into the brown goo before ramming it into his mouth.

Flic thought for a moment.  She’d had two dreams when she
was a child but had always told herself neither of them were realistic.  She
had also never mentioned them to anyone.  Why do so now? 

‘I don’t have a dream,’ she lied. 

Bob tutted.  ‘Nonsense!  This is a good time to stop being
shy.  You’re in a house full of strangers, and most of us are barking mad. 
There’s nothing to be gained from holding back.’

Flic winced.  He was right.  This was as good a time as
any.

‘Well, I had two ideas for careers when I was younger.  One
was to be a photographer, and the other was to be a private investigator.’  She
waited for someone to laugh at her.

‘You can still be a photographer.  Nothing stopping you,’
Pamela reasoned.

‘I wanted to be a celebrity photographer though.  And sell
my scandalous photos to newspapers,’ Flic giggled in Pamela’s direction.

‘Oooh, I’d love to do that.  Catch out celebrity love
rats!  Footballers cheating on their uppity wives with glamour models and
royals having affairs with commoners,’ Pamela enthused, a wicked glimmer in her
eye. 

‘Exactly!’ Flic grinned.  Her enthusiasm dampened slightly
as she started to think about her statement.  ‘I suppose it’s not a very moral
profession though.  Maybe that’s why I never pursued it.’

‘There’s an element of immorality in most professions,’
Magnus shrugged.  ‘Whether it’s helping people to indulge their vanity,
charging a ridiculous price for an essential service or going out of your way
to expose someone’s own dirty deeds.’

‘Nothing immoral in writing musicals,’ Pamela pouted.

‘There would always be somebody who would find something
wrong with it,’ Magnus advised her, which was met with raised eyebrows and a
sneer from the teenager.

‘Private detective sounds good,’ Maria mused, though she
appeared to be talking to her chocolate covered mandarin segment rather than to
anyone at the table.

‘I did consider it seriously once, when I was down south. 
I had moved from Bristol to Torquay in my early twenties and needed to find a
job there.  I’d worked alongside private investigators when I was working in
family law and I always thought it was something I could be good at.  I ended
up taking a job in a solicitors’ office again though,’ Flic reflected.  She had
major regrets about that decision now.

‘You could do it now.  You’ve been made redundant, so while
you’re looking for another job you could start being a private investigator and
see how it goes,’ Vicky offered.

Flic opened her mouth to protest, then realised she had no
protest to make.  There was nothing holding her back from following a career as
a private investigator.

‘Here’s a better idea - go into business together.  It’ll
give Vicky something interesting to write about!’ Magnus smirked.

‘Vicky has previous spying experience, she used to do a bit
of mystery shopping with Dad,’ Adam commented.

‘How exciting!  The two of you need to get Magnus to draw
you up a business plan!’ Maria enthused, beginning to clear away plates.

Bob stood up to help Maria and chimed in, ‘Do your research
first girls, make sure you’re on the right side of the law.’

BOOK: The Tangled Web
11.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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