usedtobeljs

Happy day to those who celebrate today!

In counter-programming mode -- Fortnum's had a 500-word short story contest this autumn themed to their Chocolate Library. I entered, but I don't think I won. ;) So I thought I would share the story I wrote, tied to their Secrets of the Emerald Circle chocolate and with a prompt of revenge and two sisters, an emerald circle and style... This is not a holiday story.

Mr. James ran his finger down his ledger. One closing-time appointment: Mrs David Catchpole and Miss Elizabeth Mainwaring, regarding the secrets of the emerald circle.

"I'm off, Mr. James," said his assistant Oswald from the door. His hand rested on the inscribed words James and James, Estate Jewelry which marked its glass.

Mr. James's mind elsewhere, he didn't mark Oswald's slow smile disappearing into the fog filling the Mayfair arcade.

Mrs. Catchpole had been Miss Angela Mainwaring before her marriage to Professor Catchpole and a peripatetic life in the Americas. Miss Elizabeth worked in the London Library. What Mr. James remembered, however, was the last time he had seen the two, some ten years ago.

It had been after their mother's death, when their stepbrother had taken advantage of an ill-written bequest in the will and brought their mother's jewelry to Mr James to sell. Miss Angela and Miss Elizabeth had come to the shop shortly thereafter to explain that the jewelry was not Sir John's to dispose of, they had filed suit to reclaim their property. Mr. James had offered tea and the information that alas, the jewelry was already gone. The two ladies had gazed at him silently and then departed.

He remembered the flutter of their fans as they glided out the door and an unusual chill creeping down his spine. He shouldn't have chosen to meet with them again, but Oswald had made the appointment without consulting him.

Two shadows on the other side of the glass, and the door opened.

"Good afternoon, Mr. James," said Mrs Catchpole, resplendent in an arsenic-green coat and gloves, and Miss Mainwaring smiled.

Uneasy, he remembered his manners. "Welcome, ladies. Do come in."

At their entrance his shop seemed hotter, more humid, more enclosed. But he bestirred himself to offer them the best seats on the other side of the glass counter and a cup of tea, freshly made. They accepted with gracious smiles.

As he set down the teacups, he said, "So my assistant tells me that you've an emerald to show me?"

"Why, yes," Mrs. Catchpole said. "Actually, a circle of them."

She pulled off her glove. There on her finger was a ring, set with the finest stones Mr. James had seen in years. After taking it off, she placed it in front of him.

"My word! What a prize!" He took a drink of his tea, savoring the thought of a sale to come, and then reached out.

Miss Elizabeth took out a square of chocolate and broke it in half; Mrs. Catchpole took the other portion. As he touched the ring, they bit down.

At once the emeralds changed from stone to spider. At once the creatures rushed toward him.

He couldn't move, even as the first went under his cuff and bit down.

"That's done," Miss Elizabeth said. "Angela, shall we find a better tea? Oswald's waiting."

The last thing Mr. James saw was two shadows gliding toward Piccadilly, before the green took him.