A bottle of Prosecco 02

 A bottle of Prosecco

By Janet Baldey

It was after seven and the moon was riding high by the time Alicia’s boss had finished with her.

“Damn him to hell!” Grabbing her coat, she burst into the outside world and started to run, but in her six-inch heels this wasn’t easy.  As she lurched along, she seethed. “The bastard…tonight, of all nights, to make me work late.  I hope he dies, screaming in agony. And soon too!”

Blood flooded her cheeks and her eyes glittered.  An innocent dog walker, who happened to be in her path, caught sight of the wild-eyed figure and hastily pressed herself against the wall, tightening the dog’s lead and dragging her pet to safety as Alicia rushed by.

Alicia was not someone to be trifled with and such fits of uncontrollable anger were not unusual, she’d consigned many to a fiery demise, and tonight it was a case of touch the blue paper and stand well clear.  She had plans and her pox-ridden boss had meddled with them.  He would not be forgiven easily and if he’d been aware of the crime he’d committed, he’d be quaking in his brothel creepers.  She started to pant, the party started at eight and she needed to be on time if her ploy stood any chance of succeeding.

“Oh God, I need to take some plonk…”  Skidding to a halt she dived into the nearest off licence and grabbed a bottle of Prosecco, cheap stuff but it was only a token.  Zooming up the aisle she threw a tenner at the till and zoomed out again.

At last, she reached the end of her road, almost there, still time for a quick shower before she donned her finery.  That’s if…..well, they’d just better not, that’s all.   Just because she was their only daughter, it didn’t mean they owned her soul.  It was bad enough having to live with a couple of ancient relics without having to be at their beck and call 24/7. So, they were in their, nineties, so what?  Was it her fault they had her late in life?  Anyway, a lot of folk that age were perfectly hale and hearty - they didn’t need anyone to nanny them.  She flew through the front door and pounded up the stairs.

“Alicia.  Is that you?”  Not stopping, she took no notice of her mother’s shaky voice.

Anyway!  Who did she think it was?  Boris Johnson?  Come to think of it, perhaps he’d be at the party.

“Alicia?”

“Yes”, she yelled.  “What do you want?  I’m in a rush.”

“A cup of tea, would be nice dear.  We’re both parched.”

“I’m late.  You know where the kitchen is surely?”

Her mother sighed and patted her husband’s hand wondering where they’d gone wrong.  Alicia had always been headstrong, but lately she’d become worse. Her sister had a word for it, or was it two words?   Oh well, she struggled to her feet and reached for her cane.  “I can manage”, she thought, “as long as I’m careful with the boiling water, that kettle is very heavy”. 

Freshly showered, Alicia sat in front of the mirror carefully painting on her party-face. As she did, she thought about the coming evening, and in particular, a certain guy called Jeremy.  She would never have imagined that plain as a well-used flannel, Jenny, had snared such a catch.  Not only was he toned as a surfer guy, but he reeked of money.  After their last meeting, she had done her research found out his surname was Coollaire, as in “Coullaire Electricity, Oil and Gas Heating Co. Ltd and they were loaded.  His father, was now Sir William and the family had their sticky fingers in lots of pies.  Just fancy being married to the only son of that family. She looked around her room noticing, not for the first time, how dingy it was; she’d do anything to get out of this dump. Her lip curled like a cat being sick as she saw strands of cobwebs decorating the walls.  Why, on earth, didn’t her mother do something about them?

Her thoughts reverted to Jeremy.  He fancied her, she knew he did, a girl always knows. At their first meeting his eyes almost fell out of their sockets but he didn’t stand a chance, poor love, with that Jenny guarding him like a tigress.  And she needed to.  Whatever had possessed her to wear that unfortunate dress?  Made her look like a clown. 

Alicia sat back and studied her reflection, pouting her full lips she fluttered her eyelashes.  “Looking good, girl! Jenny doesn’t stand a chance”.  As she slipped into a skin-tight dress she imagined slinking towards Jeremy, her lips curved into a seductive smile. 

Suddenly she caught sight of the clock and sprang into action.  She needed to get a move on if she was going to snap him up before some other bitch did.   At last, sliding her feet into a pair of strappy party shoes, she was good to go. 

It wasn’t far to the venue; it was just that she found it so difficult to walk in her shoes which she was beginning to have serious doubts about; maybe she should have got a size larger but Alicia was sensitive about the size of her feet.  Gritting her teeth she tottered along, trying to ignore the pain.  At last, she came to a fork in the road where there was a choice to be made.  If she turned left, she would continue following the road that curved and would take longer but if she continued straight on, she could cross the field which was more direct.  It was a dry night with no cloud, she looked up to make sure and as she did, she saw an oblong shape hovering in the sky.  Strange, she thought it looked like some sort of doorway, iridescent pink and fuzzy, pretty really.  Vaguely, she wondered what it was, maybe some sort of drone?  Although she wasn’t normally imaginative, the word portal flashed into her mind.  She pushed the thought away as she looked up, the night was calm and clear, it obviously wasn’t going to rain, so she’d chance the field.  With that in mind, unknowingly she took her first step into another life.

***

Professor Zoort studied his latest specimen.  He was searching for a prime example of the species homo sapiens, at present inhabiting the planet known as Earth.  So far, he’d been unsuccessful.  His criteria was strict – to be of any use to him they needed a flawless skeletal system, flawless intestinal system and flawless nervous system.   It was obviously asking too much.  There was an awful lot of disease in the creatures he had studied so far.  Heart disease, lung disease, crooked backs, deformities of all kinds, he had almost given up.  They were obviously a thoroughly inbred and unhealthy race; either their brain was let down by their bodies or vice versa.   His tongue flicked in and out of his mouth with exasperation.  No wonder their planet was on the brink.  However, there was always hope.  With a soft hiss, he picked up his ossiculator.  As he began to work, his skin lightened as his mood improved.  The body in front of him looked promising.  Although he still couldn’t get used to his feeling of revulsion at the creatures’ physiology, the lack of a third eye for instance, so far, his instrument had picked up no anomalies. It seemed to be a perfect example of an, admittedly primitive, life form and both his hearts started to beat faster.  However, when he reached the creature’s brain, the red warning light at the tip of the ossiculator began to flash and disappointed, his skin darkened to emerald.  There was always something, even this superb specimen was marred and useless for his research. His ossiculator began to buzz as well as flash, and if the professor had any eyebrows, he would have raised them.  There was obviously something seriously wrong inside this specimen’s cranium.  Now, Professor Zoort was an Eriscean of some note and top of his field.  As such, he sometimes felt he lacked challenges. To put it bluntly, he was bored, the intricacies of space time continuums had that effect on him.  Slowly, he flexed his digits, and, feeling magnanimous, decided to sort out this creature’s problems.  Picking up a blade of metal as thin as a strand of silk, he opened up Alicia’s skull and peered inside.   At first the tangled mass of neurons appalled him but he tutted and carried on and the scientist within him soon took over as he delicately untangled her neurons and tidied up the havoc inside Alicia’s head, all the time making a strange hooting noise which was as near to humming as he could manage. Even so the sun had risen and gone down again before he’d finished and all was tickety-boo. 

***

Alicia’s mother sat before a roaring fire inside a room that gleamed with polished wood.  A fresh cup of tea steamed by her side and she could smell the delicious odour of roasting vegetables coming from the kitchen where her daughter was bustling about.  She should have been content but she wasn’t.  Ever since Alicia had been found unconscious in a field, an unopened bottle of Prosecco still clasped in her hands, she felt she was living inside a surreal dream from which, one day, she would be abruptly shaken awake.  For things were not normal. Ever since Alicia had regained consciousness and, much to her mother’s astonishment, had clasped her in her arms before showering her with kisses, the old lady had waited in dread for the old Alicia to return.  She took a sip of her tea but it didn’t calm her.  Alicia had started to make that strange hooting noise again.  She had worked out that it meant that Alicia was happy but then again, it wasn’t normal.   There were other things as well, the slight greenish tinge to her skin that she wondered if other people had noticed and, of course, the vegetables.  Formerly an avid carnivore, Alicia now declared that eating meat was murder and instead concocted strange vegan dishes which, although delicious, were yet another sign that things were not as they had been.  On edge the whole time, the old lady waited, in dread, for the norm to revert.  Truly, there is no pleasing some people.

However, unknown to anyone on Planet Earth, in the process of restoring order to Alicia’s cerebellum, a particle of Professor Zoort’s DNA had infiltrated that of the young woman and this accounted for the changes her mother had noted.   It seems that Professor Zoort was not as clever as he thought he was.  Or was he? As to that, only time will tell.

Copyright Janet Baldey