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 (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 (3)

The writing in La Liberté blurred. I’d been putting up with this reverse script for over two years and still I struggled with it. I had to concentrate so hard reading from right to left and all the words reversed as in a mirror (and French!). The only relief, colour print advertisements sponsored by the force behind the newspaper, Hunter Driver. My head ached. Come on Jemima, I’m sick of reading your world’s news.

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Mirror World (2)

While Liesel waded through the crowd to the counter, I leaned over to Driver. ‘How’s your brother?’
‘Told you,’ she whispered.
‘So, it’s true, then.’
‘What about Delaney? He stayed behind to rescue her.’
‘She made it. But he just had to get a few more of Boris’ mutant prisoners to safety…he gave his life…’ Driver stretched her top lip over her teeth, closed her eyes, and shook her head.

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Mirror World

I waited for her on a crisp morning in September. The café where I waited was swamped with people in shorts and track suits and smelling of sweat. Jetty Road was a wall to wall mass of runners and walkers, and the obligatory onlookers. Great day to pick, Driver; just happens to be the inaugural City to Bay Run Fun.

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