Chapter 35: Saving face by ToxicBunny

Susan was not feeling her best. But she was the hostess, and the guests needed their carrot slices. She chopped them slowly and carefully, fearful that her usual efficient chopping might lead to a nasty accident. She didn't see Majo come in from the hall, and only noticed her by the time she was at the back door.
"Hey, what's the rush?"
Majo stopped. Without looking at Susan, she said "Nothing."
"Is something wrong?"
"No, I just need some fresh air."
Majo opened the door and walked out, letting it slam behind her. Susan was a little perturbed, but shrugged it off. She took the sliced carrots through to her guests, then went to fetch Yakira's soup.


She was his best friend.
Thomas gazed into Susan's eyes. She was sitting opposite him at their round, secluded table. Between them were the remains of a two-person carrot lasagne, their favourite dish. They had spent the day wandering around the older quarters of Nole-in-Isvale. Usually referred to as Nole, it was the historic commercial centre of Golbert, a region of southern Diamondus. This was not the first time they had shared a holiday, but it was the first time they had been off Carrotus together.
Susan gazed back into Tom's eyes. It was nice to have him behaving normally again. he had been detached all day. He still seemed nervous, but this wasn't unusual. Besides, he was probably worried about the bill. It had been rather extravagent of him to book a table at one of the city's most expensive restaurants.
The band finished the piece they were playing and moved on to the next. Tom glanced at his watch. Perfect. He could feel the small box in his jacket pocket. It contained the engagement ring his father had given his mother. His parents had been so happy when he'd asked for it.
"Oh, Tom, they're playing our song!"
Susan loved Tom.
She was his best friend.

Alexander was strolling along beside Peddleburg Creek. The moonlight shone on the rippling water. In the distance, he could see a scattering of lights telling him how near to Greenthorpe he was. As peaceful as the scene seemed, Alexander was well aware that he was entirely alone, in the middle of nowhere, late at night. His transceiver beeped. This was something of a surprise. Reception had been so poor since he'd arrived in Greenthorpe, he'd not heard much from headquarters. Now, out here in the wilderness, he was picking up a message. He pushed a button and it played in his ear.
"Investigative reporter due in Greenthorpe. Name is Alice Frowley. Represents Carrotus Daily News Channel. Potential global television broadcast. Target is the recent Class 7 Type EB incident in Greenthorpe. Mr. Garand, you are instructed to ensure that no credible account is made available for broadcast. ETA 2330 hours."
An electronic voice took over and informed him that the message was sent 7 hours, 3 minutes previously. Alexander looked at his watch. Just past midnight. She'd be in Greenthorpe by now. Alexander broke into a run.

The soup was sloshing around in the bowl more than Susan would have liked, and she watched it intently as she ascended the stairs. With her eyes focused downwards, the first thing she saw on the landing was a pair of feet. Her gaze shifted upwards. Her balancing act finally subsided and half a bowl's worth of soup found its way down her shirt.
Yakira took the bowl out of Susan's hands and raised it to her lips. Several large gulps later, the bowl was empty, and she handed it back.
"Um. Okay," said Susan.

If Alice Frowley didn't know any better she'd have sworn she was under attack from the restless spirits of Greenthorpe. The video camera had stopped working, and it had taken three hours for her cameraman to fix. When she'd checked the morning's footage, she'd found that it had all been erased. And, of course, all good things come in threes. Her notebook containing all the details of her exclusive was nowhere to be seen. She'd torn her room in the tavern apart, she'd completely emptied the news van, but it had vanished off the face of Carrotus.
She only had the afternoon to complete the story before she had to leave. Still, at least she'd get this interview in the can.
"Mr. Dalton, what's it like to live in Greenthorpe?"
"Life in Greenthorpe is great. Everybody knows everybody else, to some extent, and so we have a wonderful community spirit. We don't have a problem with crime. We're in one of the most idyllic parts of Peddleburg. The roads are quiet, so you can ride bicycles or horses without worry..."
"It certainly sounds nice. But are you familiar with the rumors surrounding your town?"
"No, I'm afraid not. What rumours?"
"Rumours of attacks by mythical creatures?"
"Attacks by mythical creatures?"
"There have been a number of suspicious deaths here recently and..."
"And you thought you'd make a story about how we're all so superstitious out here in the sticks? That's just sick."
"No, I just..."
"This interview is over. Good day, madam."

It was the end of the academic year at Relwick University. Tom and Jay were alone in one of the many computer labs.
"Engineering? Are you kidding me?" exclaimed Jay, incredulously. Tom was somewhat taken aback.
"The world needs engineers," replied Tom. "There aren't enough of them about."
Jay couldn't believe what he was hearing. They'd been doing the same course for a year. He'd seen Tom almost every day, and had witnessed nothing to suggest that he was having any trouble with the material.
"But you're good at this stuff!" he protested.
"Am I? I've looked at next year's stuff. There's no way I'll be able to keep up. Besides, I don't see the point. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who hates mythology subjects. They're just not my thing. I want to help us advance into the future, not wallow in the past."
"Oh, don't give me that (rhubarb). This isn't wallowing in the past. This is about beliefs which people all over the galaxy live by today, and will continue to live by in the future. I know you aren't a believer yet, but you can't deny..."
"Yet?" Tom interrupted. "When are you going to get it into your head, I'm never going to believe this stuff."
Jay knew he'd gone too far, but he couldn't back down entirely.
"Fine. But don't get (annoyed) the day I say 'I told you so'."
"Fine, I won't."
"But you'll still have thrown away a year of your life."
"Yeah, I know. But there's nothing I can do about that."

"For his extensive studies, especially in the field of extra-sensory perception in quasi-vampiric entities, it gives me great honour to announce that Jayden Lyle has been granted the title of Doctor of Vampirology."
The gowned academic handed Jay his diploma. They shook hands, and the audience applauded.

After the ceremony, Jay walked to the Explanatory Notes, a small pub he and Tom had been to a few times before. They met fairly regularly, and were still good friends. Tom was sitting at a table towards the back. He had an ale for himself, and an orangeade for Jay.
"Hey, man. Congratulations," said Tom.
"Thanks," replied Jay, sitting down opposite him.
"How was the ceremony?"
"Good. And by 'good' I mean 'long, drawn-out, and boring'."
"Good to hear you had fun, then."
"Yeah."
The conversation meandered on for a while. Jay described the highlights of the ceremony. Tom described his progress in his own studies. They reflected nostalgically on the years they'd known each other.
They talked until 6 o'clock, when Tom had to leave to catch a train. He was meeting up with a girl he'd been talking to online, called Susie.
Tom knew he wouldn't be seeing Jayden for a while. Jay, on the other hand, knew this would be the last time he'd ever see Thomas.

Susan found Yakira sitting on the terrace in the back garden. It was a clear, lukewarm day, and Yakira was following the twittering of a bird with her blind eyes.
"Hello," said Susan. "How are you feeling now?"
"Not bad."
"Have you seen Majo. Nobody's seen her since yesterday."
"I'm afraid not."
"Mind if I just...?" Susan held up her medical case.
"No, go ahead."
Susan checked her pulse, her blood pressure, and her temperature. All normal.
"It certainly seems you've made quite a rapid recovery. If I didn't know any better..."
"What?"
"Oh, never mind."
If there's anything Susan had learnt over the last few days, it's that she didn't actually know any better.

"So, how did it go?" asked Alexander.
"She feels like a terrible person. I didn't like doing that," replied Dalton.
"No. It isn't always easy. But you've done the right thing."
"I know."

Alice was in a better mood now. She'd been interviewing liars half her life, and Dalton was one of the worst she'd come across. If only the refugees had been as bad. Luckily, she'd finally found one she may be able to get some answers out of.
"So, what's your name?"
"Charlie."
"And how old are you, Charlie?"
"I'm seven and three-quarters years old."
"Well, you are very grown-up, aren't you? Now, Charlie, can you tell me what happened here four nights ago?"
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers about that."
"But I'm not a stranger. You've seen me on television, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"So, how can I be a stranger?"
"I don't know."
"That's because I'm not a stranger."
"I suppose."
"So, do you want to tell me what happened?"
"Okay."
Tony entered the room. He had been out in the hall, changing a light bulb, when he'd heard the exchange.
"Hello Charlie, who's this?"
"This is Alice Frowley from the television."
"Oh? And what are you talking about?"
"We're talking about the big fight that happened a few days ago."
"Really? Well, your dinner's almost ready, and you don't want it to get cold, do you?"
Charlie ran out of the room. Alice glared at Tony.
"What are you people hiding?" she asked.
"Look," Tony whispered conspiratorially, "His parents had a huge argument a few days ago."

In the staff room of the Cholmondely & Smith offices, three people were watching the local CDNC broadcast.
"The town of Greenthorpe has fallen victim to a large-scale internet prank. Greenthorpe, where a derelict mansion was recently restored to house refugees to Diamondus, is just south of Almsbury. The rumours range from the mansion being haunted to a large werewolf invasion of the town that allegedly took place a few days ago. The rumours have been widely dismissed as an attempt by political activists to discredit Gary Parker, who was a Councillor in Greenthorpe before he became Governor. Mr. Parker has dismissed the rumours as 'Absurd'. And that's all from Peddleburg Press, join us tomorrow at the same time."
Jack Cholmondely switched off the television.
"Gary, you are doing a terrible job of keeping things under wraps," said Ranford Smith.
"I agree," said Cholmondely. "I think this incident reinforces our conclusions vis-a-vis our association with you."
"And what are your conclusions, gentlemen?" asked Gary.
"That we should terminate all association forthwith." replied Smith.
"I see. Well, gentlemen, my plans from here on out do not require participation from either of you. If you do not desire a seat at the top table, that is your loss."
"We don't believe there will be a top table," said Smith, "let alone any seats. So we rather think our decision will be our gain. You owe us a lot of money, Parker."
"Oh, it's 'Parker' now, is it? Well, I don't think you need to worry about your money."
The blows were swift and immaculately timed. The Cholmondely & Smith legal team ceased to practice.

Their bodies lay there for three days before Estella found them.