Heather sat at her mahogany desk leafing through various invitations and begging
letters. “I don’Â’t care how beautiful the view of Central Park is from their apartment, IÂ’’m not going to listen to the Pitts and their Hollywood stories for a tepid gin ” she thought. Perhaps she could ask Bobble to pop in and deliver a Christmas card whilst she was over there. Although, she couldnÂ’’t help wondering if this New York trip of
BobbleÂ’s wasn’Â’t some sort of ploy to be working against their plan. Lazy Jack Silver had been so quiet recently and Heather wondered if this recent Italian trip that Bobble had made may have resulted in a meeting with some of the “family” over there. Perhaps they had provided a more intense drug to keep LJS in this deep sleep.
After all, sheÂ’’d never seen anyone react to Nurofen quite like this before. If she hadnÂ’’t actually seen him slumped in the cellar then sheÂ’’d think he’Â’d just disappeared.
If only she could talk things over with Norah but the only word from her at the moment was “passport” as she moved things around in her panic. Where was Waffle when she needed her? Just slipping off and leaving a note about needing to spend time with her family wasnÂ’’t very helpful.
The truth of the matter was that Heather couldnÂ’t cope with the thought of spending
Christmas alone in the Schloss with Friar Tuck. There was something deeply unsettling about the way he sidled into the room and, although perfectly pleasant on the surface, Heather knew what he was capable of. Maybe she would have to return to England and then the Friar would leave the Schloss. He wouldnÂ’’t be stupid enough to follow her
to England, would he?
Oh, sod Christmas, she thought. If it weren’Â’t for the thought of a new diamond to add to the collection then sheÂ’’d just forget about it completely. There was no way that she would fall into the sentimental claptrap of childhood memories of Christmas.
However, if she did return to England who would look after LJS? Maureen was nowhere to be seen. Bobble would be in New York. If Norah ever found her passport, then she’Â’d be off. This wasn’Â’t working out as she had planned. However, after a rest over Christmas perhaps she would be able to find some new way of tackling the problem. All she needed was someone to look after LJS while she took a few days off. Was this
too much to ask?
on 31 December 2004 at 15:53
He’s always been a lightweight with drugs, that LJS. The big wuss. 
on 04 January 2005 at 18:15
Sidled?! That seems so snake-like. Oh… {unpleasant reality dawns}
on 05 January 2005 at 12:07
Now, now, Friar Tuck – that would be ‘slid’ or ‘slithered’.
Whereas ‘sidling’ is more …. well … Gollum-like, I think you’ll find.
Does that help, at all?
on 05 January 2005 at 13:57
Heather the genius. I hope that if I give you a sweetie it gets to you.
on 10 January 2005 at 21:19
What’s happened to Lazy Jack? Is he okay?
on 22 March 2005 at 10:03
Just don’t ask Bobble to nurse him – you know what she’s like for fainting all over the blog …..
Arf.
on 22 March 2005 at 10:58
I heard he was unmasked for the cad he really is and fled to South America, with only a copy of In Patagonia and a few stolen snatches of love poetry to his name.
on 22 March 2005 at 12:13
Don’t be like that Pog… it’s better this way. After all, he’ll always have the Schloss and he has left us a legacy polished prose [that] subtly distanced him… a blend of intellectual passion and emotional coldness, the postmodern glitter of surface and patchwork, shorn of all authorial judgement.
Can’t be bad for a figment of ‘wafs deeply seated inadequacies, unresolved love interests and materialistic longings.
on 22 March 2005 at 12:19
But … but …
Oh, okay then.
*mourns*
(Oh – and don’t forget H’s contribution to his saga. I’d hide if I were you, jd.)
on 22 March 2005 at 13:56
You just don’t love us any more, do you?
I’m gutted.
Gutted, I tells ya.
on 22 March 2005 at 14:02
Sorry, you’ll have to speak up… it’s a bad line. Did you say something about lewd?
on 22 March 2005 at 14:04
Jealous? Me?
*green*
on 23 March 2005 at 10:20
Dashes water over Bobble’s inanimate form. Will have to give some thought to what exactly LJS is doing in South America but just you wait, my chickadees…
