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‘A cover?’ His eyes wandered over me in a way that made my cheeks heat. ‘What, pray, do you need to cover?’
I broke down. I broke down, and told him all about the burgeoning passion between Miss Emilia Harse and Mr Victor Linton, and how Mr Victor Linton wanted to please please please switch genders in order to put a stop to any further burgeoning. If, at any time in the past, I had doubted that Mr Ambrose’s capability to keep his face stoic and stony approached the superhuman, those doubts were now eradicated. Not once during my entire tale did he even so much as hint at a smile.
When I had finished, and gazed up at him with the big, pleading eyes of a tortured soul searching for an escape route from hell, he simply cocked his head, his eyes glittering, and said:
‘I see.’
My finger twitched in the desire to strangle him.
‘And?’ I demanded. ‘Will you let me have the money?’
‘No.’
‘But Mr Ambrose, Sir! I—’
‘In fact,’ he continued, stroking his chin thoughtfully, ‘I have decided to appoint you the temporary head of the human resources department here at the opera house.’
‘What?’
Eyes blazing, I jumped to my feet.
‘Ah. Eager to go to work, I see? I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mr Linton. This great responsibility is a sign of my trust in you. It means that you will be in charge of hiring and firing all the major staff members. Some singers have quit their jobs over that little incident with the rotting corpse.’
I had a horrible feeling where this was going.
‘No. No. No, nononono!’
‘Since you are already practised in interviewing people,’ he continued mercilessly, ‘you might as well interview potential candidates for those positions. I’m sure that Miss Harse will appreciate having a friendly face on the committee that will decide her fate.’
Rushing forward, I grabbed him by the collar. He gazed down at me, as cool as if I wasn’t contemplating smashing his head in.
‘This is revenge, isn’t it?’ I growled. ‘Revenge for the free tickets! You bastard son of a bachelor!’
‘I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr Linton.’
Tightening my grip, I pulled him down towards me, or myself up towards him, who the hell cared, and slammed my lips to his, kissing him fiercely.
‘I hate you!’ I whispered against his mouth.
‘Indeed?’ he whispered back, catching my cheeks in his hands.
‘If you say “indeed” one more time, I’m going to clobber you over the head with a wooden prop sword!’
Releasing him, I took a few steps back and raised a threatening finger. ‘I shall be avenged! Be on your guard. It may take months. It may take years. But one day, when you least expect it, I will appear from the shadows and wreak my vengeance upon you!’
‘I think you will make an excellent head of human resources, Mr Linton. You obviously have a talent for the performing arts.’
Tempted to stagger under the weight of my fate, but holding myself proudly, I marched out of the door, away from the cruel, cruel man who was going to let me suffer through this and who I most certainly did not love, no matter the evidence to the contrary. As I marched down the corridor and towards the lovestruck girl who was my worst nightmare, I was only cheered by one single thought:
Wait till Miss Harse is introduced to the first French person. Just wait. It’ll be worth all the trouble…
The Singing Butt
‘Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Ti Do…Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Ti Dooooooooo…’
‘Thank you, Mademoiselle Monette.’ I waved, wincing. ‘Thank you for the, um…memorable performance. Your application will be considered.’
I waited for Claudette to translate and, once the girl had disappeared, leant over towards her. ‘What do you think?’
