Wednesday, 29 March 2017

The Chronicles Of A Middle-Aged Vampire- Part 14

I looked Rosa in the eyes, and for the first time saw her turn away, her derisive smile fade. A brief flash of fear illuminated her vapid face. "Dear Greta, so understandably upset...Especially after your ordeal..." She moved over to the kitchen counter and picked up her handbag. Clutching it defensively before her she backed nervously out of the door. "I will leave you, I know you need some alone time...I will see you later at the wake..."

Sheila gave her a hug, and saw her to the door. I waited for her, and willed that murderous rage down, down...

My daughter returned and headed for the counter, put the kettle on, took down the teapot, the sugar and the tea-caddie. Soon we were sitting nursing large mugs of aromatic tea.

"Mom?" Sheila took a deep breath, "At the Hospital they told me you had been attacked last night. Why didn't you call me?"

"Thank God I didn't, or you might have been home when you Father was..." I choked out the word, "Murdered."

"Oh Mom!" My poor child started to sob and I reached out to embrace her, comfort her. I felt no urge to snap at her throat or feed on her blood. Relief untied the knots on in my spine. I was not a uncontrollable bundle of murderous instincts. It was as Alphonse had promised; I was still me, but with a sting!

I let her cry it out, then my pragmatic Teutonic side took over. "Darling, we need to organise the wake. I know that the Hospital released the...body..."

Sheila blew her nose and nodded. "Yes, and they recommended a funeral home. Very sympathetic on the phone...A Mr.Jonathan Stell, of Silverman & Stell Lda.

"I think we should pop over, sort out the details so we can inform the family, your aunt May...Does she know?"

"Yes, I called her and she is calling Dad's side of the family and his friends. She is driving up from London tonight, Uncle Klaus will be taking care of your side..."

"Right. So we need to sort ourselves out. Speak to your Mr Stell, order some flowers, sort out the details..."

"Oh MOM!" Sheila gasped in sudden horror, "I just remembered the WORST thing! You have nothing to wear! All your clothes are those browns and beige's and clumpy orthopaedic shoes. You don't even have black stockings" From Sheila's expression I deduced this was a major failure for a woman. "We need to get you something in black for the funeral!"

Shopping for clothes with Sheila. Oh joy...
Then I remembered Frank's credit card and I perked right up. What had Alphonse said? "Reinvent yourself"?

Oh yes indeed! It was time to give Greta Schultz a revamp, in every sense of the word!


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