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Cupcake Kissin’ 5 – Alex Ankarr
At the front of the room he’s caught up again, this time by the lawyers. And he holds out a hand dutifully, expecting a handshake, and a notification of when and where he can come by and pick up the excruciatingly awful vase or whatever it might be, that Aunt Gert has sicced on him.
He gets the shake, all right. And for a grey old suave lawyer dude, Mayhewlinson’s grip is something impressive. But then it all goes haywire. Because Mayhewlinson doesn’t let go of Caspar’s hand. No, he just holds on, and then – uh-oh – he turns it into the old two-handed shake, that’s what he does. Caspar has learned to beware the two-handed shake. In his clan, it tends to mean that some jolly old uncle has marked you down as the target for his unending store of hunting stories for the evening, and is absolutely delighted to have a new victim. However, he tries to calm himself, and reminds himself that in this case, these circumstances, it probably just means that…
‘My very dear Mr Rockalde,’ Mayhewlinson goes on to say, with the most urbane Scottish smoothness Caspar has ever been undelighted to give ear to. ‘Let me invite you into my own personal office. I’ll pour you a drink, and we can have both the official, and an unofficial, discussion of your dear aunt’s charming bequest.’
Yeah. Yeah, Caspar thought that it would most probably be that. It’s still a little odd, though. Because no-one else in the family is getting, has gotten, the invite, the nod, as far as Caspar has noticed. No, they’re all filing and trickling out, singly and in little knots, waving at Caspar as they go, touching him on the arm, even now the odd, ‘Lovely to see you again, dear!’ and ‘Give me a call if you’re staying in town a while, Caspar!’ And to that, add several versions of, ‘Oh my God, the old tinker! Gertie, eh? Poor Caspar! Still, bit of a windfall!’ Yes, several variations on that, and a whole lot of teasing winks, including from people too far away to give him this congratulatory adieu.
Oh, hell, Caspar wonders, with just a shade of foreboding. Gertie, you very very sly old girl. What have you gone and left me? Not a vase, he thinks. Probably not a vase.
© Copyright Alex Ankarr 2014
No unauthorised reproductions allowed. All rights reserved to the author. No inspirations for characters drawn from real-life individuals, no resemblance to real individuals intended.
Photo credit: Lyn Whitfield on Flickr, public domain.