by Lacey Dearie
Vicky says…
Nothing. You’ll get a friends request from a girl called Kayla soon. It’s Pamela. She’s trying to get you to flirt back and expose yourself as a cheat. Play hard to get.
Christos says…
So all I have to do is accept and be friendly?
Vicky says…
Exactly. Friendly, not flirty. Keep it going for as long as need be - until she gets bored.
Christos says…
But she knows who I am. She knows you and I are good friends.
Vicky says…
I’ll explain to her that I can’t do the assignment because I know you too well and that’s why she has to do it.
Christos says…
*sings Secret Agent Man*
Vicky says…
LOL
Christos says…
I think I might actually enjoy being in on this ;)
Vicky says…
GTG, time to go to Flic’s for the meeting. Bye sweetie ;) *hugs*
Christos says…
Bye agapi mou :) *hugs and kisses back*
10
6th February
‘He’s made us sound like virtual prostitutes!’ Flic seethed.
‘We’re only virtual prostitutes if we have cybersex for money,’ Pamela countered.
‘But that’s how he’s made it sound.’ Flic pouted and threw the newspaper down on the table in front of Magnus. ‘And it makes YOU sound like a pimp.’
Magnus frowned. ‘There’s no such thing as bad publicity, Felicity.’
‘That’s NOT my name. And you suck as a poet, Sherlock Poems’
‘I’m a fantastic songwriter and you know it! How can I possibly suck as a poet?’
Adam bashed the flat of his left palm on the table melodramatically. ‘I call this meeting to order!’
He was determined to make a success of his short period of time working for HunE-trap Investigations. He didn’t care that this was his first staff meeting with them. Having spent the last couple of weeks relying on, firstly the hospital staff, and now Flic, he just wanted to be useful again. If that meant taking charge and acting as the leader, then he would do so.
The room fell silent and all heads turned toward Adam.
‘Jeez, who made you the boss?’ Pamela tutted.
‘The same person who decided you could work for us,’ Vicky scoffed. ‘Carry on Adam.’
Adam straightened up as much as he possibly could and peered at his almost illegible notes. Writing with his left hand had been difficult.
‘First item on the agenda, the name of the business. Is everyone still happy to call us HunE-trap Investigations? And happy with the spelling? Even though it looks like Hune Trap? All in favour of keeping this name please raise your hands.’
They all raised their hands.
‘Good. Next item on the agenda….’ Adam furrowed his brow as he tried to decipher his scrawls. ‘Ah, yes. The website. How’s that coming along Vicky?’
‘So far we’ve got a homepage, a copy of the price list we decided on last week, a link to Peter’s story, links to all our blogs – even Flic’s brand spanking new blog although she refuses to write anything – and a “contact us” page. I’m in the process of linking our Tête-a-net profiles.’
‘Make sure you specify that we DON’T DO CYBER SEX’ Flic stropped.
‘And add the terms and conditions I’ve listed here. It’ll keep us right, and the clients will have some bedtime reading.’ Magnus handed over a small booklet of paper to Vicky.
Vicky tapped a reminder into her phone. ‘Just making a note to add that.’
‘Whose phone is that?’ Magnus asked, hearing a vibration and a male voice moaning, “Yeah, babe, oh lordy, mmmmm.”
‘Mine. Probably some chancer trying to give me an upgrade,’ Pamela dismissed.
‘Never heard it called that before!’ Vicky whooped.
Adam winked at Flic who then reached under the table and pulled Pamela’s phone from her bag. Flic looked at the screen.
‘It’s your dad. Answer it,’ she demanded.
Pamela sighed and grabbed her phone from Flic before stomping out of the room to answer the call.
‘That ringtone’s a bit much,’ Magnus grumped.
‘Don’t worry, my dad’s been instructed to phone around now and tell her to go home. The snow’s getting heavier anyway. She should get home before she gets snowed in here,’ Vicky advised.
‘Maybe she should take Sasha with her,’ Magnus suggested hopefully.
‘No, Sasha stays with Vicky,’ Adam halted him before he tried to shoo the little girl out of the meeting. It was the one thing that bothered him about his friend – his intolerance of children. He pretended to be the caring type, giving up his holiday every year to do voluntary work with kids. Adam suspected he only did this because the charity he volunteered for paid all his travelling and accommodation expenses. He’d seen the photos. Eight hours a day working with the kids and the rest of the time partying with all the other, mostly female, volunteers who assumed he was a decent bloke just because he was there. Adam was onto him.
‘Dad’s demanding I go home!’ Pamela whined from the doorway. ‘Vicky, phone him back and tell him I can stay here with you.’
‘No. Do as dad tells you,’ Vicky flatly refused.
‘This is iniquitous! I’m seventeen years old! I could have a house of my own if I wanted,’ Pamela whined.
‘It’s what?’ Flic squinted.
‘She’s been reading the dictionary all morning. She’s trying to make herself sound grown up,’ Vicky explained. ‘And if you want your own place, move out. Nobody’s stopping you.’
Flic nodded sympathetically towards Pamela. ‘Being young’s a bitch.’
‘Surprised you can remember that far back!’ Pamela snapped at a wounded Flic, scooping up her coat, gloves and earmuffs from Flic’s couch then storming out dramatically.
‘Now she’s gone,’ Adam continued without paying any attention to the drama his younger sister had intended to bring to the situation, ‘How is your plan to keep her nose out of the work you’re doing going, Vicky?’
Vicky cleared her throat. ‘I’ve lined up a fake assignment for her. Tomorrow morning I’ll email her a link to my friend Christos’s old MaisonNet page, which he no longer uses. She’ll be asked to get evidence of him cheating on his girlfriend, which she’ll be unable to find. I’ll tell her that as soon as she gets the evidence she can become a fully fledged member of our team.’
‘Christos? Isn’t he the florist guy who’s obsessed with his girlfriend and kids and talks about nothing else?’ Adam queried.
‘The very same. He knows all about this, so he’ll be extra careful not to say anything to her character – who will be named Kayla – in case she misconstrues it.’
‘Wait! Why does this guy know about our business? How can we be sure we can trust him?’ Flic panicked.
‘We can,’ Vicky stated simply.
‘I don’t know who this guy is!’ Flic griped.
‘Vicky’s known him for years, he’s alright,’ Adam attempted to calm Flic.
‘I want to know exactly who this guy is! If he knows anything about HunE-trap Investigations and our work, I have a right to meet him,’ Flic reasoned.
‘Ha! You’ll be lucky. You’ll have to tear him away from his computer first,’ Adam snorted.
Flic turned towards Adam, who was grinning manically and reigning in a laugh.
‘Is he a geek?’ Flic blinked.
‘He is NOT a geek!’ Vicky cried defensively.
‘You know how Vicky’s got her phone stuck to her hand permanently?’ Adam sniggered.
Vicky instantly released her phone from her grip and it thumped onto the table in front of her.
‘That’s because she’s constantly texting Christos. Nobody else ever gets a look in. The two of them are best friends. But because they’re both too busy texting each other they never spend any real time together,’ Adam whoop
ed.
‘I did wonder who was so important that you’re constantly checking that phone!’ Magnus smirked.
‘He’s just a friend.’ Vicky flushed, eager to set the record straight.
‘Is he good looking?’ Flic teased.
Vicky’s face coloured some more. She checked to see Magnus’s reaction. He looked amused rather than jealous. Not what she had hoped for.
‘Has he got that geek-chic look? Like Rivers Cuomo?’ Flic cajoled in a hushed tone. ‘That’s hot,’ she winked at Vicky.
‘Right, that’s enough hilarity. Back to business,’ Magnus said, pretending to crack an invisible whip.
Vicky was grateful the teasing had stopped. And hopeful that Magnus had stopped it because he was uncomfortable about her having feelings for another man. Not that she did.
‘What else is left to talk about?’ Flic’s smile disappeared.
‘We need to discuss which clients we have, which potential clients have been in touch, and the status of each case,’ Adam informed them.
‘Urgh! That’s going to take for-e-ver!’ Vicky complained.
‘It has to be done,’ Magnus conceded. ‘We all need to know what’s happening with the clients in case one of you has a reason you can’t do the work.’
‘This was a lot easier when it was just me and you, Vicky, having a good gossip about what was happening,’ Flic grumped.
‘That’s because there were no clients,’ Adam sniggered. ‘I’ll go and get your big red folder.’
‘What? No, you sit there, I’ll get it,’ Flic instructed harshly.
‘I can do it!’ Adam snapped.
Flic waved her hand in a gesture which told him to go ahead. He could see in her eyes that she was concerned, and probably ready to run to his rescue if he couldn’t cope but he was determined that he would. He used his free arm to pick up his crutch and make a clumsy attempt to manoeuvre himself away from the table and out of the door. After a few knocks against furniture, he finally managed to get out of the room.
‘I’ll check on dinner,’ Flic announced, to no-one in particular.
‘What are we having?’ Magnus asked.
‘Coq au vin,’ Flic replied as she left the room.
‘Do you think any of the wine made it in to the dinner?’ he whispered to Vicky, who smothered a smile.
Adam came to an awkward halt in the hallway, where Flic kept her big red folder with all the basic client information. She had started to keep it there next to the phone, the fax machine Magnus had insisted they buy, and her printer. Everything was in one place. Adam grabbed the folder with his left hand and attempted to get moving again as best he could, considering his physical limitations. He was struggling though. He pushed his hand through his hair in frustration. Was there nothing he could do without help now? He’d been reminding himself constantly today that he would only be this way for a few weeks, but already the time was dragging. He would have to shout for help. Feeling defeated and thoroughly miserable, he wracked his brain to think if there was some way he could do this without help.
He hopped into the kitchen where an anxious Flic was standing, pretending to be checking various pots of bubbling casserole and boiling vegetables.
‘Do you have a plastic bag so I can carry the folder more easily while I’m struggling with these crutches?’ he asked.
‘Um, hang on.’ Flic breezed past him towards the hall and into her bedroom. She returned with a large hot pink plastic bag with knotted laces attached.
He should have known that she wouldn’t have a simple Tesco or Asda bag.
‘Thanks,’ he called back as he shuffled out into the hall again. He placed the folder into the bag and hooked it over his arm. Pleased with himself, he picked up the crutch which had been resting against the wall. He gave the table a last look to check he hadn’t missed any papers. That was when he noticed something white underneath the phone. He clumsily edged towards the hidden document and pulled it out. It was an unopened envelope addressed to, “Mrs Felixia Goodbody.” Adam was confused. Felixia must be Flic. She kept insisting her name wasn’t Felicity. That would make sense.
But Mrs? His new girlfriend was married? And he had thought her last name was Rice. He attempted to back up into the kitchen but found himself crashing into Flic.
‘What have you got there?’ she asked quietly.
‘Found this under the phone. Is this person you?’ he checked. He hoped it didn’t sound like an interrogation but more of a casual question, but he was so confused and panicky that he was living with a married woman and he suspected that might have been given away in his tone of voice.
‘Yeah,’ she nodded, appearing unwilling to volunteer any more information.
‘Care to explain why it says Mrs?’ he urged.
Flic shrugged. ‘I used to be married. I’m now divorced. I still occasionally get junk mail and letters from my old solicitor in my old name. No big deal.’
‘It IS a big deal. I didn’t know you’d been married,’ Adam muttered.
Flic cast her eyes downwards.
‘You should have told me,’ he continued.
She nodded guiltily. ‘Hang on,’ she said. She poked her head around the door to the dining room and living room area, then closed it and perched on a window ledge.
‘Magnus and Vicky are deep in conversation. Sasha’s watching Midsomer Murders. We should have a little chat,’ Flic reflected.
‘That baby cracks me up. I’ve never known such a telly addict. She’ll watch anything,’ Adam snorted.
Flic smiled.
‘Do you have kids?’ he ventured.
‘No. Do you?’
‘No, I don’t. Don’t change the subject. This is about you and your secret marriage.’
‘It wasn’t a secret marriage. I just never got the chance to tell you about it. We haven’t known each other that long and you’ve had a lot on your plate with the accident,’ she assured.
‘I want to know more,’ he pushed. ‘I want to know at least the basics.’
‘Like what?’
‘Who is he? Where is he? Why did you break up? How long were you married for?’ he reeled.
‘Ok.’ Flic pushed her hair off her shoulders – something Adam had noticed she did when she was uncomfortable. 'His name was George. He still lives down south as far as I know. We were together since we were fifteen, got married when we were nineteen and split up in 2006.’
‘What happened? Who ended it?’ Adam continued.
‘He left me for one of my workmates. My protégée actually. Amy. They met on MaisonNet through my profile. Saw each other leaving comments on my pictures and videos and stuff. She added him as a friend. They started messaging each other privately. Within a couple of months, they’d met in real life and decided to get together. I was out of the picture.’
Adam stared past Flic’s shoulder and out of the window, feeling like the jigsaw was starting to fit together. He knew Vicky’s motivation for HunE-trap Investigations. Now he realised what Flic’s motivation was too.
‘Is that when you moved up here?’ Adam asked.
Flic nodded her reply. ‘I hope this isn’t going to affect anything between you and me. I would have told you but you haven’t mentioned your past relationships to me. I have no idea if you’ve ever been married or engaged and to be honest, it doesn’t matter to me. The Adam I’m with right now matters.’
‘Are you still in touch with him? Is the divorce final?’
‘We got divorced quickly. He married Amy within a month of our divorce. I’ve had no direct contact with him since I left him. Just through the solicitors. I made a clean break.’
‘This seems so unlike you – the woman I know. You’re so feisty. Why didn’t you fight to save your marriage, or stay and make their lives difficult? You really just walked away?’ Adam squinted.
The woman standing before him was speaking so matter-of-factly, like she had completely detached herself from the emotions involved in the situation. He couldn�
��t understand how someone could lose their spouse in a way which sounded deeply hurtful, and now feel nothing.
‘You had clearly thought you would be with this George guy forever if you had married him. Surely you couldn’t switch your feelings off.’ Adam struggled to make sense of the situation.
Flic shrugged and examined a chipped fingernail. ‘I choose my battles carefully. I didn’t fight for him because I couldn’t win. He’d made his decision. It would never have been the same anyway.’
Adam nodded. ‘I could never forgive someone for cheating either.’
‘The way I see it, he didn’t cheat. He met someone else and he ended our marriage to be with her. He didn’t want us both.’
‘That must have hurt,’ Adam sympathised.
‘Of course. It was the single most hurtful thing that anyone has ever done to me. But the man I loved would never have done that. He wasn’t the man I loved any more. I would say I felt more grief than hurt,’ she explained. ‘Grief is still what I feel. I moved on. I just had to.’
Adam tried to mentally brush aside his concerns over Flic’s secret. Her explanation sounded plausible. He heard the emotion from the words she chose rather than her tone of voice and he saw tiny glints of sadness in her eyes. But there was certainly no feeling in her body language. She looked comfortable and casual, hovering on the window ledge. Her shoulders were relaxed and her legs swung like a child on a chair that was far too big for them. There was no stiffness in her appearance and she had stopped brushing her hair back.
Adam suspected his new girlfriend had spent the last few years training herself in the art of being indifferent.
‘Ok. I still need to get my head around this, but I don’t see why we should let the past affect us now,’ he reasoned.
‘I agree.’ Flic leaned down and kissed him reassuringly.
‘Can you take the folder into the dining room? I’ll be through in a second. I just need to use the loo,’ Adam said.
‘Sure.’ Flic unhooked the plastic bag from Adam’s arm and smiled at him, then made her way back through to the dining room.
