*

“The sun is out! What a beautiful day,” declared Lily, standing at the window. Florence arrived, bustling in with her shopping basket. “Hello Florence! Having a busy day?”

“A stressful one!” she replied. “The witness lied on the stand so the judge had to charge her with perjury, and she was the only one people liked so it’s cast a shadow over the whole case!”

“Maybe there’ll be a mistrial,” said Lily helpfully.

“Maybe,” said Florence, “we’ll have to wait and see.”

“The weather has turned out lovely, hasn’t it?” said Lily, looking out the window.

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” agreed Florence, slipping off her shoes.

“Hello everyone,” said Heathcliff, arriving abruptly out of nowhere. Before they could respond he continued, “My life is at an end! Cathy has left me for so-and-so next door. I’m dying of a broken heart.”

“Oh cheer up. Cathy’s a bit mad. You’re better off without her,” said Florence, biting into an apple.

“How can you say that?! She’s marvellous! I love her!” said Heathcliff.

“If she’s fallen in love with another person so quickly, then she doesn’t deserve you,” said Lily. Heathcliff took no notice of this so she continued optimistically – “Either that or she’ll fall back out of love soon enough.”

“Do you think so?” asked Heathcliff, brightening.

“Yes I do,” said Lily while Florence rolled her eyes, “Would you like to play Scrabble?”

“I’d rather play Cluedo,” said Heathcliff, “but we need at least three for that. Will you play Florence?”

“Ok, but only because you’re soppy and heartbroken,” Florence replied.

“Thanks for reminding me. But things are looking up. Cathy will return to me, you’ll see.” Heathcliff sat down at the table.

“I don’t think you’re right for each other anyway. She’s your adopted sister for crying out loud!”

“Adopted! No blood relation whatsoever!”

“It’s an infatuation. You’re attached to her as a family member. And you’re possessive of her because she’s the only one who was nice to you, other than her dad, and he’s dead. She’s not even a nice person, she’s only nice to you. She pinched Nelly!”

Lily set up the Cluedo board.

“So I should just set about falling in love with someone else then?” Heathcliff mused, pressing a finger to his lips as he looked thoughtfully towards to ceiling.

“Yes,” said Lily, winking.

“No!” cried Florence. “What is this obsession you have with romance? It’s as if you’re following a recipe and you want eight ounces of Cathy, and when you can’t get it you look for eight ounces of someone else to substitute!”

“What a strange thing to say,” said Heathcliff.

“Cathy’s not your flour,” Florence explained. “You don’t need flour at all.”

“We need bicarbonate of soda, and kale and spinach,” said Lily.

“I’m speaking metaphorically,” said Florence.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just keep forgetting to buy them.”

“Flour represents romantic partnership. Heathcliff you are following the recipe book of life which is telling you that you need a wife. But it’s an imaginary recipe book!” said Florence, pleased with her explanation.

“Right. Ok, so I should find a different life recipe? What other ingredients do I need?” asked Heathcliff, looking into Florence’s eyes and fiddling with his shoe laces at the same time.

“You already have all the things you need. In the pantry of yourself,” replied Florence, pleased with her metaphor.

“Ok, … what am I baking?” asked Heathcliff, finger on his lips again, eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Whatever you like! Do what makes you happy. Play Cluedo with Lily and me; read books; go to the beach; learn a language; go to court. I went today, it’s rather exciting. There’s a whole world out there to explore. Leave Cathy to Linton. She’s his problem now.”

“You’re right!” said Heathcliff. “Ok, great, thanks.”

“Who would you like to be?” asked Lily, pointing to the board.

“I’ll be Colonel Mustard,” said Heathcliff enthusiastically.

“Can I be Professor Plum?” asked Florence.

“Yes,” Lily nodded, “and I will be Mrs Peacock. Roll the die to see who goes first.”

Heathcliff rolled a six so he went first, although Colonel Mustard didn’t make it all the way into a room.

“If the singular of dice is die, why isn’t the singular of mice, mie?” he asked while Florence rolled a one and moved forward one, along the corridor.

“I don’t know,” said Lily. “I like the sound of mie. The mie ran up the clock; the mie sat down on the bread bin; the mie poured the tea. I like it!”

“Me too,” said Heathcliff. “The other alternative -“

“Your turn!” said Florence, passing the die to Lily.

“- is the singular of dice being ‘douse’, which is a different word altogether. Perhaps that’s why it wasn’t used in the first place.”

“But die is a whole other word in the first place,” said Lily. “Your turn.”

“Thank you,” said Heathcliff. He rolled a four and moved Colonel Mustard into the Conservatory. “Why did they call them dice anyway? I’d have called it a one-to-six, or a counting decider, or a random number generator,” he said, thoughtfully. “Colonel Mustard, in the Study, with the Candlestick.”

“You’re in the Conservatory!” Florence pointed out.

“So I am. I apologise. My mind was fixed on reinventing dice,” said Heathcliff.

Florence showed him her Candlestick card and he crossed it off his list.

***

Violet’s Miranda’s Vegan Comics – making fun and funny vegan-friendly fiction for all ages since 2012