The Corner Shop of Whispers by Viggiano Debbie

Author:Viggiano, Debbie [Viggiano, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gingersnap Books
Published: 2017-02-14T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

I lay under the chaise-longue for what seemed like an eternity. By the time things came to a juddering, groaning, noisy climax I’d completely lost sensation in my legs, and my neck muscles were in agony.

Finally my neighbour and Martin Murray-Wells rolled off the chaise-longue, collected up their discarded clothing and, exclaiming excitedly at their brazen antics, left the attic rooms. I was just about to come out from my hiding place when Alison returned by herself. Giggling naughtily, she went and stood in front of the easel for a minute. After that I was too scared to come out for another ten minutes in case either of them returned again. When I finally hauled myself out, I felt incredibly shaky. I sat down heavily on the chaise-longue, desperately trying to regain my wits and sense of well-being. It evaded me. Groaning, I put my head in my hands. I don’t know how long I sat like that, but a familiar female voice had me jumping off the chaise-longue like a schoolgirl in trouble with the head teacher.

‘What the hell’s happened to my painting?’ Harriet roared.

I clutched my hands to my thumping heart. ‘O-oh, Harriet. You took me by surprise.’

‘I take it the reason you’re sitting on that chaise looking like your world has collapsed is because of this?’ she snapped.

White-faced, I crept over and peered at the canvas. Alison had finished off Harriet’s facial features on my behalf. The image was now sporting blacked out teeth and a pair of Harry Potter glasses.

‘Y-yes,’ I stammered. ‘It was a bit of a shock. I had to, er, sit down and just…take a moment.’

‘That child of mine,’ Harriet fumed, ‘is turning into a delinquent.’ She dumped her handbag on the floor and stomped over to the chaise. ‘I’ve told Martin that I’m finding her behaviour more and more rebellious. I’ll be having words with that school of hers on Monday. We don’t pay thousands of pounds in fees to have our daughter carrying on like some sort of chav.’ Harriet’s eyes flashed with anger.

‘Don’t blame Piper,’ I soothed. ‘It’s probably just a cry for attention.’

I desperately hoped Piper didn’t get into trouble due to Alison’s prank back-firing.

‘If Piper wants attention, she only has to ask. After all, her father is downstairs with Alison.’

I looked at Harriet uncertainly. Surely she didn’t know of or condone the shenanigans her husband had so very recently been up to with my neighbour? Harriet met my gaze.

‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing,’ I said quickly as a vision of Martin Murray-Well’s erect private parts instantly sprang to mind. The mental picture faded to Henry and his third leg. Dear Lord, the Montgomery-Murray-Wells’ house was certainly seeing a lot of extra-marital action.

‘I was, um, just surprised to hear my neighbour is downstairs.’

Harriet flapped a hand dismissively. ‘The May Ball. Apparently there was some minor tweaking that just couldn’t keep.’

‘Ah,’ I nodded. So that was the excuse for Alison being here.

‘Well shall we get on with it?’ Harriet said, suddenly business-like. ‘I want this painting finished tonight.

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