A Stranger Calls...
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- cosycottage
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A Stranger Calls...
Although she was beginning to miss him a little bit, at least while things were relatively peaceful, this gave her a chance to catch up on her reading. Today was a nice book about a big house called the Louvre, which was full of pretty pictures and sculptures and stuff:
'None of which are as beautiful as you, of course…' cosycottage had claimed a while back.
“Hee hee!” Kiko giggled to herself as she remembered, “Silly cosy!” And then went back to the chapter on the17th Century Flemish School.
However, a distinct tapping sound pierced the tranquil summer afternoon. Faint, yet persistent.
“Hmmm…” Kiko immediately wondered what Bonesy was up to... But, almost on cue, the little skellington piped up: “Don’t look at me, darlin’!” From the opposite side of the bay seat. Bonesy had been rather quiet up to now, lost in the enjoyment of his own, less educational reading material, and Kiko had completely forgotten that he was in the same room.
And yet, the strange tapping sound returned, which merely elicited a disinterested shrug from Bonesy, coupled with a quick ruffle of his magazine and a barely-controlled “Phhwooorrr!!!!!” as his gaze returned to the shiny folds of his periodical: And so, Kiko was left sort-of-on-her-own to ponder on this peculiar sound.
She worried that it might be a leak or something: or even a delivery of one of Cosy’s parcels and packages.
Kiko remembered her own rather cold and damp arrival and, even though she had strict instructions NOT to answer the door under ANY circumstance,
she felt it would do no harm to sneak down to the front door and take a peek through the peephole – maybe wait for the shuffle of the “sorry we tried to deliver” card to make its way through the letterbox and onto the doormat...
And thus it was that she put aside her book and tiptoed into the hallway and down the stairs, making sure not to bonk or scuffle or make any noise as she descended…
- cosycottage
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
But then, another tippety-tap tattoo on that door! Kiko almost jumped out of her skin!
“Ooh. Maybe a fox!” she murmured, and looked through the peephole again, hoping to catch sight of a red bushy tail… or at least a half-mangey one, given the state of some of these urban critters, yowling at all hours of the night and digging up flowerbeds and going through everyone’s rubbish…
And then a small voice,
“Hallo?”
Frail in volume, but strong enough to carry through the heavy front door.
Kiko made a silent curse, scrunching up her face and making a ball of her fist, which swiped at empty air. She was angry at herself for coming down to the front door in the first place, let alone making a stupid sound and giving the game away.
Another short round of tiny knocks.
Followed by the small voice again:
“Hallo?” Kiko froze, hoping to ride this out and then creep upstairs and open her book and never, ever coming down to the front door ever again!
“Miss Katsumoto? Is that you?”
Kiko shivered at the sound of her surname. So official-sounding. Oh no! Perhaps it was the Customs People, come to take her away!
“Miss Kiko-san? Master Bonesy? Please, you must pardon this unforgivable intrusion.” The voice continued. “But I had nowhere else to go.”
Kiko, full of the memory of her own night spent out on the porch, scrunched up her eyes, held her breath and hoped…. and prayed… that Cosy would not tell her off for breaking “Rule Number One”, as she put her fingers to the handle and opened the door… just a crack. There she paused, waiting for the terrible Customs Excising Men to come storming in to arrest her and deport her and she would never see cosy or bonesy or orinoco or motorbike rides ever again!
But nothing… until the small voice from somewhere out of view piped up:
“Ahem. Hallo there?”
Not a scary voice at all, and yet it was with some trepidation that Kiko pulled the door ajar a little further, just enough to peek through.
And there, on the doormat, far below her: “Ah. You must be the delightful Miss Kiko. I’ve heard so many good things about you. So very glad to finally meet you. I’m Miss Page.”
- cosycottage
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
Miss Lylis, the younger and more free-spirited of the two, had planned to meet Cosy at the airport, and might be returning with them: but Miss Page – Lylis’ friend and housemate – was otherwise inconvenienced with another engagement for the Summer.
“I truly am very sorry to inconvenience you like this.” Miss Elisabeth explained, as Kiko carried both her and her luggage upstairs. “A frightful mix-up at my hotel in Epsom Downs. I wanted to call ahead but, naturally, we are all aware of the dreaded Instructions, are we not?” Kiko nodded mutely.
“I could only hope to take my chances by arriving and, if necessary, decant to the garden for a while.” Elisabeth continued.
Kiko nodded again, as she rested Elisabeth down on the sofa. “Ahh. Kiko-san.” Ms Page sighed. “You are a darling treasure for opening the door. We must keep it our little secret, though.” She gave a little nod, which Kiko bashfully returned. “You too, Master Bonesy.” Bonesy glowered over his magazine at this interloper.
The stupid little’uns and the stuffies, he didn’t mind. They were no trouble to boss about. And Kiko was fun and didn’t mind playing games and all that mullarkey.
But this was a different ball game altogether. A bunch of girls: all stupid and stuck-up, with their “ooh what shall I wear today”s and their hair brushing and their bloody tea parties!
Bonesy growled, and shook his magazine defiantly. Miss Elisabeth, courteous as ever, chose to ignore both the skellington’s little hissy fit, as well as the rather lewd cover of his periodical, and turned her attention back to the rapt Kiko, asking politely, “Well. How about a nice cup of tea?”: to which Bonesy let out a derisive snort, from the other side of the room.
But Elisabeth didn’t miss a beat, continuing in a most gracious manner: “I would so much love a refreshing pot, and perhaps a slice of cake, if you have any to hand? But if you don’t have any, then please don’t worry on my account! Just a glass of water. Something to quench the thirst after such a harrowing journey.”
“I-I’ll see what I can find Miss Elisabeth.” Kiko stammered.
“Eliza, please.” Miss Page beamed, “All my friends call me Eliza.” “Okay. Eliza.” Kiko beamed and unconsciously gave a little curtsey, before skipping out of the living room and off towards the kitchen.
“Ahhh.” The new arrival sighed, as she sat back into the plush cushions, and allowed an uneasy silence to settle on the scene – punctuated only by the occasional bash and crash from the kitchen, as Kiko searched for the teapot and other utensils...
- cosycottage
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
Oh, he would have words about this when Cosycottage got back. Yes he bleedin’ would.
Bloody women runnin’ all over the shop, takin’ charge. Cosy had finally lost his marbles.
Soon him and Cosy would be spending the rest of their miserable lives putting up greenhouses and constructing flowerbeds and building extensions and conservatories and running down to the shops every five minutes and desperately trying to cross jobs off a never-ending mega honey-do list… “Fuckin' bollocks!” Bonesy grumbled, just loud enough for a certain individual to hear. But said individual simply and politely ignored the vulgar comment, and waited patiently for Kiko to return… which she did, soon enough, and with a tea tray laden with cups and plates and goodies and forks and spoons… “I’m so sorry, Eliza.” Kiko panted. “But these are the smallest cups I could find!”
“Oh please don’t fret, my dear.” Miss Page entreated. “Trust me, I’ve had to deal with far worse in my time!” And soon the two girls were chatting away to each other, as Elisabeth explained the unfortunate set of circumstances which had precipitated her sudden arrival, along with tales of hectic train schedules and busy platforms...
Kiko was spellbound by her new housemate, and didn’t even notice Bonesy slipping somewhat noisily off the bay seat with a grumble, and heading into the hallway.
“I’ll fuckin’ show ‘em!” Bonesy growled under his breath, determined to find some dirt on this snobby little tart so he could maintain his position within the ever-expanding household.
So, as quietly as he could, he picked the lock on Miss Page’s suitcase, and rifled through it... But nothing of any importance… just papers and timetables and a well-thumbed copy of The Lady…
So, next, he tried the larger trunk: opening it yet again with expert ease and a cackle, before peering inside….
- cosycottage
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
But they were too busy nattering away good-naturedly to each other about life in cosycottage towers as well as the outside world.
“Oh, no, no, no…..” Bonesy wailed under his breath: quickly sealing the trunk tight as a drum, before scampering off into the kitchen to hide under the breakfast table: His skinny ribs pressed tight against the cold wall, as he whimpered to himself and prayed that cosycottage would get back off holiday soon.
Very, very soon….
<duh, duh duuuhhhhhhhhhh!!!!>
[cue creepy organ music and adverts for next saturday morning's episode of The Green Flash and the midnight movie - "Mutant Crabs From Outer Space!"]
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
"Sniff my Knickers"
Wait, just what are "Knickers" to begin with?
- cosycottage
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
Well, it's a chocolate bar with nougat and peanuts.... oh... hang on!narcissus wrote:"Scatch & Sniff Cover"
"Sniff my Knickers"
Wait, just what are "Knickers" to begin with?
"Knickers" are, I believe, "Panties" in your dialect. As for "bollocks".... the "bonnet" of a car... a "fortnight" etc...
- tchon
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
And Bonesy has quite a daunting look with his sunglasses. (not to mention is somewhat different taste in literature )
Oh, and welcome Elisabeth, or Eliza, if I am allowed to say so
I am just a tiny wee little bit curious about what is in the trunk that scared Bonesy that much. But then I try to keep my manners and not be so nosy.
Re: A Stranger Calls...
Great, now I'm gonna be thinking all week "What was in the trunk?". Can't wait to hear the ending.
Re: A Stranger Calls...
cosycottage wrote:Well, it's a chocolate bar with nougat and peanuts.... oh... hang on!narcissus wrote:"Scatch & Sniff Cover"
"Sniff my Knickers"
Wait, just what are "Knickers" to begin with?
"Knickers" are, I believe, "Panties" in your dialect. As for "bollocks".... the "bonnet" of a car... a "fortnight" etc...
I'll never forget my mate asking a sweet shop girl if she had any knickers! It was a genuine freudian slip, because he went 10 different shades of red and stammered Snickers, which of course didn't really help the situation! Especially with me creasing myself behind him!
But anyway, back to the story. Great stuff cosycottage. The dolls' poses make the images come to life and the story reinforces the images. Great read, great pics and a Cliff hanging ending, though I know what was in the trunk to Bonsey's horror! A whole wad of betting vouchers....yes he just saw that poor Elisabeth backed Mac's Power like me yesterday! Bonsey stole the show, very charismatic. I love his reading material. I'm already looking forward to the next instalment.
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- AlexKnight
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
Can't wait to see the conclusion... gotta know what Bonesy saw!
Is it a doorway into the third dimension, or just more girly clothes
or have a look at Ashley's Coverdoll release by clicking here - June 13, 2015
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Re: A Stranger Calls...
Jasmine and Rose have a doll album. Enjoy!