Hi readers! This is the opening chapter of my novel which is exclusive to all my subscribed members. I will post a new chapter every month, and it should deliver right to your mailbox. A lot of expected things are going to happen with this dystopian social science novel. Grateful if you can support my work!
Alma was sitting upright, uncomfortably in a white leather sofa chair, as if fearing the grand chandelier above her will drop to the ground any minute.
The phone beeps and she jumps slightly by the noise. It is a phone notification from her legal advisor about her apartment in London. The deal is done apparently. The apartment she and her ex-husband owned together is now sold and her share of the profit has been wired to her account.
"This concludes the divorce. " The automated text from the law firm concludes Alma's marriage.
Technology is creepy. Alma thinks to herself as she puts the phone away and looks around the living room. Her late mother did a full decoration in this room. Frankly, it looks like a very tiny tech firm office, with the exception of the chandelier.
On one wall it's a fully-serviced pantry. There are baskets of fruits, a display fridge of coconut water, kombucha and beer, an espresso machine, hot and cold water tap, even a panini toaster.
In the middle, under the chandelier, places four white Bibendum leather chair in credit of Eileen Grey. A beautiful walnut wood coffee table stands above a red Turkish rug. Two walnut wood desks sit in an L-shape next to the sofa area with two white Eames chairs tucked under them, waiting for their masters. Alma looks at her black pointed Louboutins against the red rug, very femme fatale.
Alma spots that just under the staircase leading up to her mother's room, there's small printer/scanner. She doesn't recall her mum had a job or a charity role before she passed away, and even if she did work, why's there two desks in the living room? This is a four-bedroom house with three living rooms for my mother alone. In other words, no one in a sane mind will put an office in the living room of a mansion.
The doorbell rings and Alma walks through another living room and gets to the original part of the house, and through the dining room and kitchen to answer the door. Her dad employed someone to build the extension around fifteen years ago but didn't live long enough to see it finished. Alma prefers the old bit of the house, the warm stone wall brings back happy memories with dad.
"Hi Alma," says a woman with long ginger hair. She is around 30 years old but with a very childish face, there's something innocent about her with her pale green eyes. She's wearing a very long linen dress in a light grey colour, and an expensive-looking white and navy tartan cape. If she carries a twig basket, it will complete her look of a character from any Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales or Frozen, the Disney cartoon.
"I know you probably don't remember me, but I'm your school mate Lawrence Pike's little sister, Charlotte Pike," says the wide-eyed girl in a nervous, timid tone.
Alma searches through her memory palace and remembers Charlotte as the tiny red hair angel. The youngest sister of Laurie, when Alma was sixteen years old she was only three or four. They had two good years playing together when Laurie and she were dating, before she went to university up north. Little Charlotte used to drag her silver patchwork blanket everywhere she went adorably.
"Charlotte! You've grown so much!" Alma extends her arm warmly to hug this girl, "How old are you now? What a lovely surprise! What're you doing here?" In her black turtle neck, black pants and black Louboutins, Alma is still a couple of heads taller than this little girl. She hurries to invite Charlotte in and settles in the kitchen nook.
Places her green canvas bag on the old wooden table, Charlotte carefully sits on the sage green sofa. "I'm here to express on condolences for the passing of Mrs Somerfield. And also..." A big splash of noise interrupts her. A mountain-full of plastic lunch boxes fall down like avalanche as Alma goes through the kitchen cabinets looking for tea bags.
Charlotte rushes to help, "if you're looking for tea bags, they are right next to the kettle in the red tin box. Sugar is in the cabinet above in the white porcelain bowl, and milk is in the fridge of course."
Alma sees the red tin box and turns around to look at Charlotte, "you know your way around here."
"Yes, I do. This is also one of the reasons I'm here to speak to you, Alma." Charlotte starts sorting out the tea making, "I think there're a lot of things about your mum and me that you ought to know."
"Please don't tell me my mum was also your mum," Alma freezes.
To be continued...
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash