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‘Adequate suggestion. Here.’ He pulled a few clothes out of the wardrobe and turned. ‘Take thi-’
That was when he caught sight of me.
Without the sheet.
Without anything.
‘Thank you.’ Doing the best curtsy you can do in your birthday suit, I pulled the clothes out of his unresisting hands. ‘With a tight belt, I should be able to make these fit.’
Silence.
Well, except for the footsteps.
Wait - footsteps?
‘Hello?’ The knock coming from the door made me jump ten feet in the air. But it was the voice that nearly gave me heart attack. The voice of the very last person I wanted to enter this room right now. ‘Hello, Ricky? Son, are you awake?’
Oh crap.
The Last Day
Things went very, very fast. One moment I was standing in front of Mr Ambrose, a bundle of clothes in my bare arms, the next, the man who had sworn eternal love to me pushed me over onto the carpet-
Thud!
‘Ouch!’
-and shoved me under the bed.
‘Nng!’
Who said gentlemanly chivalry was dead? You simply had to admire a gentleman who assisted a lady with such swiftness. And the moment I was out from under this bed, I would show him my admiration with a swift kick in the butt!
Right now, however, the only things in sight were his feet, and the rather smelly, dusty carpet. God, how long had it been since this thing had been cleaned? I would have to have a word with the chambermaid.
Click.
The door opened and another pair of feet, this one wearing pink shoes, entered the room.
‘Ah. Good morning, Mother.’
All right - butt kicking postponed.
‘Rick! Are you all right, my son?’
‘Certainly. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Well, you didn’t show up for breakfast, and now I find you here looking all flushed and hot. Do you have a fever?’
I glanced down at my lack of ladylike - or indeed any - attire. Yes, he definitely has. But not the kind you are probably referring to, Your Ladyship.
‘No.’
‘Are you sure? Let me feel your forehead. Lie down on the bed for a minute and-’
‘No! The bed is perfectly fine! And so am I.’
‘Oh. Um…very well.’
