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In here? Okay.
Oh, thank you. Yes, yes. I'm comfortable.
Thank you.
Now, you said you wanted to talk?
Oh. About her. Okay. Anything specific? The day she died?
Okay.
When I think about the day that woman died, I like to think of it as a scene from an Agatha Christie novel, where we arrive fashionably dressed in smart 1920's clothes and arrived in cute roadsters to a garden party, and banter witty repartee back and forth with posh accents.
What it really was, was a sweltering mid afternoon lunch at my parents country club, where no one spoke except that woman , who was holding court like some grande dame. She was canvassing her favorite subject- what was wrong with everyone but her. No one, not her family seated at the table with her, or the other club members or even the club staff was beyond her notice.
What? Oh yes.
Water would be nice, thank you.
Now. Where was I?
Oh, yes.
It was a buffet style set up, perfect for what I had planned. That woman liked to have tea after meals like this. Maybe that's where the Agatha Christie thing comes in.
When the opportunity arose, I palmed the small baggie from my handbag.
"Oh mother," I cooed during a lull in her monologue. "You're out of tea. Let me get you another cup."
"Why yes, Joanne. How nice of you to make yourself useful for once."
"Cream and sugar?" I said sweetly through gritted teeth.
"You know I take two sugars, no cream, dear. " She turned to my father. "She takes after your side. Not a brain in her head."
But he doesn't hear her. He's on his fourth martini and busily eyeing a perky young "niece" of one of the older members. So, I noticed, was my brother-in-law. My sister was trying to show a supremely uninterested busboy her unimpressive cleavage.
These were the idiots who banded together in moral outrage against my husband and his lover. And denied us all our freedom.
I wonder how the old bitch managed it.
What?
Oh, what do I mean by managed it?
Got all of them back under her control.
I thought you wanted to hear about the day she died?
Fine. Now what was I saying?
Oh yes.
That thought enraged me, and the hand holding the delicate porcelain cup and saucer trembles setting them off in a light tinkling dance. I was furious because of the conversation I'd had with Roy about Johnny asking him not to call that woman names.
And so, Roy didn't. Not that he did before. He just didn't with that expression on his face.
Who am I talking about?
My very soon to be ex husband and his deceased lover. You know. That big shot hero fireman they're burying today.
I guess if your husband is going to leave you for another man, having him leave you for a hero isn't so bad I suppose.
But that's not the point , now is it?
As I was saying, I was madder than hell at the thought of those two. But I hated, and I mean hated that woman.
You know, it's stuffy in here. Could we…?
Yes, thank you.
Now, as I was saying-
No, I don't want to talk about Roy and Johnny.
I was telling you about that woman, and how I was about to get her some tea.
Which I did. And I dutifully put two sugars in and my secret little packet.
And stirred it aaalllll up.
Was I laughing? I didn't realize. Is that bad?
Maybe I was thinking about how I almost put cream in it to spite that woman .
Anyway, I took it back to her and watched as she drank it. I hate how she ate and drank things. Always smacking her lips or tongue.
Did I tell you she had spider lips?
Well spiders have teeth, why wouldn't they have lips?
Anyway, where was I?
Oh, yes. As that woman was slurping through her tea, my father decided to get her a pastry. Which he never does. He said he picked one out with extra sugar on top, because he knows how much she likes it.
Which is funny, come to think of it. He never gets her things. My sister and her husband did too. And my brother-in-law is above all else, useless.
Well, it's about this time she starts looking bad, kind of pale but red at the same time. She belched a couple of times and started sweating.
And we were all watching her real close now because those were the two things she loved to criticise most in the servants.
What?
Oh, you know, the people who bring the food and clean and mow. Stuff like that.
No, no. Dad was never that well off. Just at the club.
So we're watching and she starts having trouble breathing and we just kept watching.
Which is weird, come to think of it. My sister never misses the chance to go into hysterics.
And then…
Then.
She just drops dead, face down in her second pastry.
Was I laughing again?
I was just thinking of what she used to say to us if we ever had seconds of anything.
Well, just that if she has another pastry they won't get the coffin lid shut.
Well, no. Not exactly. More like our clothes won't fit. She was terrified that we might get fat.
Oh, well. Thank you. Did I mention I was getting a divorce?
Oh, happily you say?
Twenty years you say?
Good for you. Just keep her away from dark haired firemen with soulful brown eyes.
It's cold in here. Do you mind if we?
Thank you.
We must have watched her too long after because one of the servants came and asked if everything was all right.
Then daddy asked if he could fetch a doctor and a constable as it appeared mummy had taken on a bit of a fit.
Then the coroner came and collected her and said something about an inquest. And daddy left then Scott and Zelda did.
And I was left to drive myself home.
Did I tell you about my adorable boattail speedster?
I didn't?
Well. It's adorable.
Who are Scott and Zelda?
Why my dear sir! Surely even you have heard of the Fitzgeralds! My sister and brother-in-law!
Yes.
Well.
We call her Bethy when she wants to be anonymous.
Could I have more water? This one is warm.
Thank you.
What did I do then?
I went and found Roy and the children with his mother at the vicarage.
We came to an understanding, and went back to the house to prepare for mummy's funeral.
Well, Roy's Chief and that curly haired pain in the ass came to tell Roy his lover was dead.
No. Not really. Why should it bother me?
I was in the kitchen, and it was when Roy told the others that Johnny didn't know he was free now, that I realized that I couldn't have been the only one to add something special to mummy's lunch.
Yes. Yes I am quite tired.
Yes, doctor. I'd like that very much. Will you give me something to help me sleep?
Thank you doctor.
Doctor?
Thanks for not making me share rooms with Zelda. She snores terribly.
Oh, and Doctor?
How much poison did they find?