Makeover Magic (Part 4/7 - Unconvinced)

 Part 4 - Unconvinced

"I'm working for the housing association," I said, hoping that my hesitation hadn't been too long. 

A second pleasant but filthy face joined that of the smiling man, and with the movement the earthy smell became more prominent. The newcomer seemed vaguely familiar, although beneath the grime and discolouration he wasn't easy to identify. His voice solved the problem; I'd worked briefly with him a few years ago. 

"My apologies for contradicting you, Mister Paul, but I hazard to declare that your words suggest a falsehood. Your presence is undoubtedly due to your friendship of Mistress Jane, I warrant." 

Before I could respond, the smiling man advanced further and two strong hands grasped my upper arms. Oddly I was reminded of hypertension checkups and insistent blood pressure cuffs. Odder still, I found it difficult to speak and was overcome with an unnatural tiredness that grew by the second. My eyes were starting to droop as my captor's voice reached my muddled brain. 

 "Then we must extend our employer's invitation to this fine gentleman. I shall render aid so that his compromised mobility is not a concern. Is that acceptable, dear colleague?" 

 "Most agreeable, dear chap. We will continue to assist this fine example of womanhood." 

 I didn't hear any more. I assume I was engulfed by sleep. 

(To be continued)

Makeover Magic (Part 3/7 - Looking around)

 

Part 3 - Looking around

 

This time we went too far. Or did we? Had it not been for Gia's overwhelming concern I would have said so. Sneaking uninvited into someone's home is something I would most certainly consider intrusive, and had I caught Jane there in anything but her day clothes I would have been mortified. But her apartment was empty. There could have been an innocent explanation but... I'm getting ahead of myself. 

When we arrived at the building Gia went ahead. She climbed up to the open window with her usual feline grace and slipped through. Once inside, she linked her mind with mine, allowing me to share her view of the apartment, one room at a time. 

It wasn't a large place. A small galley kitchen with efficient storage, a compact bathroom, a lemon-themed bedroom with little floor space once the wardrobe, dressing table and single bed were taken into consideration, and a living room that comprised a sofa, one wooden chair, fold-up table, bookshelf, standard lamp and television. 

When we found the TV broadcasting a quiz show to an empty room, then discovered an open door to the corridor and still no sign of anybody, I felt more justified in our actions. 

 I tried the outer door to the apartment building. It was locked. I was trying to decide whether breaking in was an option when I heard the latch move. I stepped back as the door swung inwards to reveal a smiling man, broad-chested and distinctly greasy, the creases in his face dirt-filled, and yes - the facets were tinged with an unhealthy shade of green. 

 He moved forward and I caught the odour of freshly turned loam. His smile grew wider and I saw a gap where his front teeth should be. He spoke. 

 "Good eventide, my dear fellow. May I be of assistance, perchance?" 

 My mind scrambled for a suitable reply. In the delay, I caught sight of two other figures behind him and despite the gloom I was certain they were carrying something. Or someone.  

(To be continued)