Page 28 of Storm of Bells
‘Well, that’s it then, guv.’ The delivery mantipped his hat. ‘I’ll be going.’
‘What? Wait! You can’t leave me likethis!’
‘Sorry, guv. I got a dozen more deliveries tomake today. See ye.’
And he was out the door.
From behind me came a softplink, asanother metal capsule bounced off the wooden crate and landed onwhat little of the desk was still accessible. Grabbing the thing, Itore it open.
Mr Linton,
No.
Mr Ambrose
P.S. I believe I already commented on the matterof amorous emotions. I refer to my statements made on the14thof December, 3 pm, upon MarfordBridge, nine miles and twenty-seven yards southeast ofBattlewood.
No?
No?
Calm down, Lilly. When one partner in arelationship says no to the other, that has to be respected underall circumstances. Even if you would like to take a big woodencrate and stuff it down the aforementioned other’s throat.
Besides, this was part of the game. He wastesting me. I wouldn’t let him win! Not in a million years!
So, instead of kicking down the connectingdoor to his office and fulfilling one of my revenge fantasies, Idid the next best thing. I marched over to the fireplace andgrabbed the poker.
No, not to bash a certain person’s stony headin. Resisting that mighty temptation, I instead marched straighttowards the crate and jammed the sharp end of the poker between theboards of the crate and tugged.
Nothing happened.
I tugged harder. ‘Nnnng! Rrrrg!’
Still nothing.
‘Come on, Lilly! You can do this! You can doth—’
Crack!
‘—iiiouch!’
I landed rather unceremoniously on mywell-padded derrière. Scrambling to my feet, I approached the crateand peered into its shadowy innards through the gap left by thesplintered board. There was something there…something metallic. Acurve, and things that looked like miniature metal hammers attachedto what seemed to be a psychopathic spider’s piano keyboard.
What the…?
Grabbing the next scrap of paper, I penned awell-justified and polite enquiry to my employer.
My dearest & nearest Mr Ambrose,
Have you lost your bloody marbles?
Yours concerned and about to call for adoctor with a straightjacket,
Lillian Linton
P.S. Normal people do not object to saying‘I love you’ more than once in their life, you know.
The reply wasn’t long in coming.
