Page 3 of Storm of Bells
My eyes swept around, taking in the familiarlittle space. My space. Mine. I had worked hard to get it, and evenharder to keep it. After all my adventures in distant lands, allthe fabulous sights I had seen, and all the dirty gags that hadbeen stuffed into my mouth by assorted bandits, revolutionaries andgod only knows who else, still nothing quite took my breath awaylike this little office right here in good old London.
And soon, you won’t have to pretend anymore,Lillian. Soon, you’ll be married to the man in charge, and then youcan forget about this ridiculous male costume and just be yourfabulous self.
I could hardly wait.
The thought put me in such a good mood that Ihad almost forgotten about the mysterious tarpaulin downstairs bythe time the door to Mr Ambrose’s office creaked, announcing hisarrival. Rising from my desk, I headed towards the connectingdoor—but before I had even taken a step, I heard a very familiarnoise.
Plink!
I looked down at the desk—and grinned. A tinymetal cylinder was lying on the desk. Ah, what fond memories thatbrought up…
Reaching for the missive from Ambrose theMighty, I pulled open the metal capsule, unrolled the message andread:
Mr Linton,
You’re late.
Rikkard Ambrose
I closed my eyes in bliss. Ah. The loving words ofmy future husband. Wasn’t he a darling?
Plink.
Lifting one eyelid, I peeked at the desk,where another capsule was lying, ready to be opened. What, twomessages in a row? Apparently, Mr Ambrose was feeling quiteextraordinarily verbose today. It had to be the approachingnuptials. I had heard an event like that could completelyemotionally derail a man, and turn him into a quivering wreck.
Mr Linton,
Bring me file 39XV225.
Rikkard Ambrose
I nodded sagely. Yes, utterly emotionally derailed.I could see he was positively dissolving in pre-wedding panic. Heurgently needed the comforting, encouraging words of his futurewife and love of his life. Sitting down at the desk, I wrote:
My dearest and most beloved Mr Ambrose,
Why don’t you get it yourself, lazybones?
Yours Faithfully
Miss Lilly Linton
Then I dispatched it, put my feet up on the desk andstarted whistling. I didn’t have long to wait for a response.
Plink!
Mr Linton,
If you are labouring under the delusion Ishall tolerate such behaviour merely because we shall in the nearfuture be entering matrimonial relations, you are sorely mistaken.Cease wasting ink this instant, and fetch file 39XV225!
Rikkard Ambrose
Sighing in bliss, I hugged the little paper to me.Just like the good old times!
Snatching up a pen and a piece of paper, Ipenned my eloquent reply.
My most ardently and unceasingly passionatelybeloved Mr Ambrose,
I’m on my way.
