Page 50 of Love ad Lib
‘Caligula! Borgia! No!’ a man shouted. Libby turned to see two hounds of hell leaping towards her, their tongues flapping out of their mouths like scarves caught in the door of a moving car, and spittle flying from their glistening teeth.
‘Get back here! Heel!’
She caught a glimpse of a man running after them just before Henry pushed her out of the way, holding his arms wide.
The dogs launched themselves forward, hitting him square in the chest and knocking him to the ground.
He didn’t move.
They continued barking and drooling. One of them now had Henry’s head in its massive jaws.
Libby screamed.
‘It’s okay! They’re only playing.’ The man leaned over Henry, tugging on the dog’s collars. ‘Come on, you daft buggers, get off him.’
She ran to Henry’s side as the hounds were pulled away. He looked like he was trying to speak, but only wheezing sounds were coming out of his mouth.
‘Henry! Oh my god, are you okay?’ She helped him sit. ‘Have you punctured a lung?’
He shook his head. ‘Winded,’ he whispered.
‘Ha! See, right as rain.’ The man turned back to the dogs. ‘Who’s good doggies? Who’s a little over-excited to see our Henry? Yes, you are. Oh yes, you are!’
Henry got to his feet, wiping drool off his face and brushing the dirt off his navy suit. He looked like a model who’d been attacked by a water blaster, then pushed into a sandpit.
‘Libby.’ He straightened his spine. ‘I’d like to present my father, Arthur.’
‘Henry! Henry, my darling!’
A woman was running towards them, arms outstretched. Libby blinked. Whatwasshe wearing? She reached them and grabbed Henry’s head, kissing him full on the lips.
‘You’re home!’ she cried.
‘And my mammy,’ Henry continued, his face tense. ‘Dervla.’
‘You must be Libby!’ Dervla pushed her messy blonde hair out of her eyes. ‘Oh, aren’t you a beauty!’ She clasped her hands to her chest and glanced at Arthur. ‘Isn’t she a beauty, darling?’ She didn’t wait for an answer, drawing Libby in for a hug. ‘Come to Mammy.’
Libby was engulfed in a large bosom and the smell of patchouli. The fear of asphyxiation heightened as another set of arms clasped her tightly.
‘Welcome to the family, my dear,’ barked Arthur.
‘Dad! Mammy! Get off her! Please!’
Libby gulped in a breath as she was released.
Dervla’s brow furrowed. ‘Are you faint? Do you want something to drink? The loo?’
‘I think maybe we should just go straight to our room,’ Henry said.
‘Nonsense!’ replied his father. ‘Estelle’s on her way, and Summer’s around somewhere. Libby needs to meet the family.’
Libby stood in silence as Henry argued with two thirds of his parents. Despite the dirt on his clothes, he was dressed immaculately. Arthur and Dervla looked like they’d raided the dressing-up box at a hippy commune.
From the waist down, Arthur could have passed for a member of the upper-class, with his faded coral-red chinos and battered leather deck shoes. However, from the waist up it was a different matter. Both his ears were pierced, his neck was adorned with an array of necklaces and prayer beads, and his sun-browned chest was bare. The only piece of clothing on his top half was a waistcoat made from patches of brightly coloured fabric and small mirrors.
His wife’s ensemble appeared demure at first glance, however the illusion was broken when Libby realised that she could see Dervla’s leopard-print thong and breasts swaying underneath her clothing, which seemed to consist solely of translucent tie-dyed scarves.
Henry was looking increasingly irate, gesticulating with one hand, the other alternating between rubbing the back of his neck and pinching the bridge of his nose.
