Page 28 of Storm over the Caribbean
“Come on,” I cajoled. “This can’t be so bad, right? You’ve already helped me with putting the squeeze on a helpless home-owner and depriving him of his property for a pittance.”
“That is different, Karim huffed. “That isnormal!”
“It is?”
“Naturally. TheSahibused to do this kind of thing all the time. Threats, extortion, speculation, that is all in a day’s work. But…” Wrinkling his nose, he glanced down at the pile of items on the lawn. “…interior decorating?”
I jabbed a finger into his side. “Don’t be a baby! I’ve got one of those coming already.” The expression on his face was priceless. “Now,” I suggested, “why don’t you gather up all the supplies and meet me at the back door.”
Karim gripped his sabre—then his gaze slid down to my bulging belly, and his shoulders slumped.
“Yes,Sahiba.”
“And do be quiet, will you?” I winked. “We wouldn’t want Mr Ambrose to find out what we’re up to, would we?”
“No,Sahiba.”
Five minutes later, I was just surveying my new realm when the sound of the bell came from the back door. Skipping over, I pulled it open, revealing a massive mountain of assorted items, with a beard sticking out somewhere in the middle.
“Why, hello! Thank you for coming so quickly!”
“Beware,” said the removal man mountain. “One day, I shall have my revenge for this.”
“I’m sure you will. Now come in and put that stuff over there, will you?”
He did as ordered and, having put down his burden, gave a sigh of relief—until I stuck a paintbrush into his hand.
“I don’t really like the wall colour in this room, but unfortunately, I can’t reach the top of the wall, and I couldn’t possibly risk climbing onto a ladder while I am in the family way.” Giving a dramatic sigh, I switched on my doe-eyes and looked up at him. “If only helpless, pregnant little me had a big, strong man to take care of it for me.”
His beard twitched. “Is that so?”
I patted his shoulder. “Make it something child-friendly, will you? A cheerful blue maybe, or bright pink.”
The wood of the brush creaked under the pressure of Karim’s grip. “I shall do my best to be…cheerful.”
“Spiffing!” Giving him another encouraging clap on the shoulder, I skipped off towards the stairs to inspect the rest of the house.
The remainder of the afternoon passed in a whirlwind of colours, fabric and furniture. I knew I was doing this for the future, for my family, but I’d never realized how much I, for myself, had wanted this. Back at Uncle Bufford’s house, theplace I’d called “home” was a tiny room that contained nothing but two creaking beds, a cupboard and my sister Ella. This…
This place was mine. Unquestionably, completely mine. And I could do anything I wanted with it.
With a broad smile on my face, I pushed open the arched window at the very top of the house. Wind tickled my face and I gazed out over the back garden. The grass was lush and green, buds of opening flowers were scattered everywhere, and a towering oak’s leaves cast soothing shadows over the lawn. Beaming, I turned around and returned to the living room. There was now a slightly moth-eaten but oh-so-comfortable chaise longue standing against one wall. The walls had been painted in a cheerful (and appropriately inexpensive) blue. A freshly tuned (second hand) piano stood in one corner, and a framed piece of paper proclaiming “Home, Cheap Home” hung on the wall.
Beaming, I turned towards Karim. “What do you think?”
Karim’s fingers twitched, as if he wanted to decapitate me with his sabre. Then he realized he was still holding the paint brush.
“It is certainly…unique.”
“I know, right?” Spreading my arms, I twirled around, then dropped onto the sofa, snuggling into the moth-eaten upholstery. “Isn’t it perfect?”
“I’m sure the moths would agree with you.”
I glanced over at him. “I’m sensing a subtext there.”
“Well…” Shifting, Karim glanced from left to right. “You wanted a home suitable for your family,Sahiba. Isn’t all of this a bit…cheap?”
I cocked my head. “I’m LillianAmbrosenow, aren’t I?”
