Mirror World (7)

I closed the door with a thud and Nick Cowper pressed his remote controller. The noise and the croquet vanished. Cowper twisted his head, and he made no attempt to stop his gaze inspecting me from head to toe and lingering on my breasts. EEYOU! ‘So youse the nanny me betta ‘alf’s employed?’
I stroked my neck and nodded. No wonder Admiral Thumm was concerned. The smell of fermented hops mingled with rank body odour. Tails in a former life and world — Nick Cowper. And he spoke English with a cockney accent.

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Mirror World (6)

I checked the status of the boys. On the swings. Eight-year-old Max mounted higher and higher. Bet he won’t last five minutes before he jumps and scrapes his knees. Liam, six wiggled in his rubber sling. Two minutes before he yells out for a helping push.
‘Are you there?’ Jemima reminded me of her presence on the phone.
‘Yeah, I’m in Fatsgalf Hill, actually at the local park.’ I strode up to Liam and his swing all twisted ready to spring into a spin. Last thing I wanted was a dizzy vomiting boy. We’d left his mother in her interpretation of the “flu”, laid up in bed and bucket standing vigil by the bedside. More like hang-over, if you ask me. I slowly unwound Liam and his swing. ‘What happened to you? Last Sunday you never came, and I’ve been trying to contact you all week.’

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Mirror World (5)

‘Aunt Frieda, you’re getting embarrassing.’ I didn’t know where to look. Sure, Uncle Wilhelm shuffled from this life to glory some years ago, but all this sauciness and flirting between the two top Admirals of the IGSF made me shift uncomfortably on my seat. What would Minna, if she were alive, think?

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Mirror World (4)

‘Not a valid number. Please try again. Not a valid number please try again.’ The phone repeated in my ear.
Three meters away sat Kirk, son of Boris. I turned away and then raised the newspaper to my face. Hope he hasn’t seen me. Better still, hope he’s Mirror’s Kirk. My arteries thumped inside my head.

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