Lingerie Wars (Invertary 1)

“There are no witnesses now.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’m not afraid to hurt you to get the information I need.”

Betty scoffed.

“Who are you kidding, Kirsty Campbell? I could take you in a fight any day.”

Her words might have been more impressive if her stubby wee legs weren’t dangling over the edge of her footrest as she talked. Kirsty wasn’t going to be intimidated by a woman who practically needed a ladder to get in her chair.

“And another thing,” Betty said. “What do you call him if not a witness?”

She pointed at Lake where he was leaning against Betty’s 1970s orange sideboard. Lake smiled darkly.

“I’m not a witness,” he said. “I’m on her side for this one. Taking the underwear was underhanded.”

“This is war, laddie,” Betty shouted.

“Ha!” Kirsty said. “So you admit it. You did take the lingerie.”

She folded her arms and glared down at Invertary’s most annoying resident.

“What if I did?” Betty said, sticking her stubby wee nose in the air. “There’s nothing you can do about it, and you sure as heck won’t ever find the stuff.”

She grinned a wide, toothless grin, which made Kirsty scan the room for sight of her teeth. With Betty, you never knew where her teeth would turn up next. She had a terrible habit of taking them out when they annoyed her and forgetting where she put them. It paid to be vigilant whenever she was in gummy mode.

“We need to search the place,” Lake said with a sigh.

“And you!” Betty pointed at him as she gave him the evil eye. “You are a traitor! You’re helping the enemy. You should be hung, drawn and quartered.”

She tried to fold her arms over her ample belly, but didn’t quite make it. Lake pushed away from the sideboard and looked at Kirsty.

“I’ll take the bedroom, you start in here.”

They looked around Betty’s tiny living room, every single inch stuffed with furniture and every single surface packed with tacky fairy ornaments. Kirsty grimaced.

“Surely she wouldn’t be stupid enough to hide it here?” she said.

“I couldn’t even begin to guess how stupid she is,” Lake said.

Betty made an unidentifiable noise.

“I’m declaring my own war,” she said. “I’m now officially at war with the both of you.”

Lake shook his head.

“I’ll be in the bedroom.” He disappeared up the hall.

“You’re a mean old fart,” Kirsty told Betty, who thought that was great and grinned widely.

Which, in turn, reminded Kirsty to be on the lookout for teeth.

After two hours of searching, they were no closer to finding the missing underwear. Lake was traumatised by the experience. He’d seen things in Betty’s closets that he never wanted to see again. The most offensive thing had been what she did to the cardboard cut-out she’d stolen. It was now standing in her kitchen wearing a pink flowery pinny and bright red lipstick.

“That isn’t funny,” Lake said when he saw it.

Those cut-outs cost money.

“It kind of is,” Kirsty said with a grin.

“You’re a big girl’s blouse who can’t wage a decent war,” Betty told him. “Take a good look. That’s what you’re like on the inside. All this muscle and moody attitude is only for show.”