The Birthday on Lovelace Lane by Alice Ross

Author:Alice Ross [Ross, Alice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-24T16:00:00+00:00

Mike awoke the next morning with a head that felt full of short-sighted flying squirrels, a mouth that felt as if it had been lined with mouldy carpet, and a wife who looked distinctly unimpressed.

At least, that was his second impression. His first, as he lurched back to consciousness, prising open his eyes to find something long, slim and beige with an orange tip hovering over him, had related to giant matchsticks.

But it wasn’t a giant matchstick.

It was Judith.

In a beige shirt dress.

And orange hair.

Looking extremely naffed off.

‘As you could scarcely speak when the taxi driver deposited you on the doorstep last night,’ she sniffed reprovingly, ‘I haven’t the first idea what you were up to yesterday. And I’m not sure I want to know.’

Mike refrained from replying that that was probably just as well. On two fronts. First, because the way his head thudded, he doubted he’d be able to co-ordinate a coherent explanation. And second, because he had absolutely no idea what to explain.

He could remember arriving at Highwater Hall – eager to show his plans to Melandra; he could remember being very hot and her instructing him to take off his jacket; he could remember taking off his jacket and… very little else after that. Other than her thrusting an enormous glass of wine into his hand. And—

Oh God!

Surely not!

But no. Flashbacks began leapfrogging into his befuddled brain. Of Melandra whipping off her bikini top and… of him smearing suntan lotion onto her back.

Bloody hell.

What had he been thinking?

Not much. Obviously.

And what else had they got up to?

He groaned as he recalled a giant duck bobbing about the swimming pool. And him attempting to clamber on top of it. In his M&S striped boxers. With Melandra cackling profusely as she floated about on a giant octopus.

‘You all right?’ demanded Judith, still hovering over him.

Mike attempted to shake his head. Not a good idea given its flying squirrel occupants. ‘No,’ he uttered pathetically. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

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