Doug grinned at his trusty wardrobe as he made coffee. He didn’t think they’d be needing that tonight.
Sure enough, when he returned, Maia stood in his bedroom, completely naked, except for the omnipresent Jumbo. Doug nearly dropped the coffee. He wished Spoons were here – not joining in, just to see it for one second and then have to go home again. She was magnificent.
‘Do you know what really turns me on?’ she purred.
‘I would guess that would be snakes,’ said Doug.
‘No!’ She caught hold of his tie and pulled him slowly towards her. He felt unbelievably turned on, even with the knowledge that, if he so wished, Jumbo could bite off his head like a cocktail cherry.
‘Money.’
‘Money? I thought you were a primary school teacher.’
‘I want you to talk money to me, Dougie. It really turns me on.’
‘Ehm, God, I don’t know … florin?’
She pulled him closer and kissed him hard on the lips, till he thought the top of his head was going to explode.
‘Tell me … tell me how much money the shop makes.’
‘What? I don’t underst – Jesus!’
She was on her knees and had unbuttoned his trousers.
‘Tell me, Dougie …’
‘Oh God, don’t stop that.’
‘I will if you don’t –’
‘Three thousand a week give or take … oooh.’
‘Yes, yes …’
Doug had his eyes tightly shut now. His mind was being blown, amongst other things.
‘And how much of that do you pay in VAT?’
‘What!? No, no, please don’t stop.’
‘How much do you pay in VAT?’
‘Oh … my … God.’
‘How MUCH?’
‘Nothing. NOTHING! NOTHING! Ahhhhhh …’
‘A honey trap?’ said Spoons, eating a honey doughnut at the same time and seemingly unable to distinguish between the two.
‘I think you’re going to get nicked. I’m really sorry, Spoons.’
‘It’s my dad’s fault. Those bloody lorries.’ He sighed. ‘Undercover. Who would have thought the Inland Revenue would be so thorough?’
‘I know. She took us in, right enough.’
‘I mean, where the hell did they find a woman who loved snakes and suntans and chips and Newcastle United and who would fancy you as well? Must have taken them ages.’
‘No, Spoons, you see …’
The door swung open, tinging loudly. Maia and Jumbo stood there with four menacing-looking men in pinstriped suits with briefcases strapped to their wrists.
‘It’s all through the back,’ she announced. ‘Take it down.’
She faced the boys.
‘No hard feelings. It’s just business.’
They stared at her.
‘So, I mean … where did you get Jumbo?’ asked Doug.
‘His real name’s Mambo. He’s professionally undercover too. Oh and there’s …’
She nudged Jumbo/Mambo, and the snake lifted its huge flat head. There was a clicking, whirring noise.
‘… a miniature camera implanted in his head. Painless, I assure you. But extremely useful.’
Doug shook his head in disbelief.
‘Well, for what it’s worth, you really convinced us you loved that snake.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Just doing my job. Really, when I’m not working, they make me want to vomit, scream, run away and burst into tears.’
Spoons, who hadn’t been listening, nudged Doug hard.
‘Doug … does this mean you’re not going out with her any more?’
Doug clasped him on the shoulder.
‘Yes, Spoons. Yes, it does.’
‘Ehm … can I go out with her then?’
‘Spoons, she’s going to put you in prison.’
‘Yeh, but when I come out, maybe?’
‘Spoons, she’s not really who she says she is.’
‘I don’t care,’ said Spoons miserably.
‘We’ll talk about it,’ said Maia crisply. ‘Perhaps over forms lla-95c. See how co-operative we both can be.’
Spoons was beaming as she led him off into the unmarked vehicle.
‘Hello, snaky man.’ Chloë was walking down the street carrying two bags of shopping with her hair in little bunches and her summer sandals on. Doug felt his heart lurch.
‘Hello there. Ehm … you know, I’m not really involved in that line of work these days.’
‘Oh really?’ she said, putting the shopping bags down.
‘No, I kind of … gave it up. I think in future I’m going to stick to the more rectangular animals.’
She nodded. ‘What, like bears and stuff?’
‘Bears, maybe … anything with right-angles. Giraffes, stuff like that.’
‘Huh.’
They looked at each other for a bit.
‘So do you … ?’
‘Well, maybe …’
They both spoke at once, then smiled foolishly at each other.
‘Yeah, all right,’ said Chloë.
Later, walking away, Doug patted his pocket.
‘Don’t worry, Fluffster. I’m sure she’ll come round sooner or later …’
Fiona Walker
Fiona Walker is the author of fifteen bestselling novels – most recently The Woman Who Fell in Love for a Week, which is published by Sphere. Fiona lives in Warwickshire with her partner and two children plus an assortment of horses and dogs.
‘Al Matthews is PR, darling,’ Sly winked, dragging out his Edinburgh brogue for emphasis. ‘He is absolutely the man to boost your image. Look at Red and Slim.’
‘Pul-lease,’ I laughed. Last year’s pop sensation Ruby ‘Red’ Richmond had been supposedly in lurve with cult actor Slim Tim Gorman for several weeks and pictures of them looking sickeningly couply were splashed all over the tabloids. Everyone knew it was a publicity stunt. Ruby was far too anorexic to kiss anything but bathroom fittings and Slim Tim was a coke addict who snorted Colombia’s finest from