Stories: All-New Tales - Page 64

No I am NOT!

Someone has taught those damn parrots to shout, “Samantha! I love you!” They do it all the time now.

I put on my most austerely beautiful clothes and my Stiltskins and stormed round to Liam’s flat. He looked terrible. He was in his nightclothes. He hadn’t shaved or combed his curls and I think he was drunk. His flat was just as terrible. I saw it because as soon as he opened the door I marched in with Liam backing in front of me, shouting at the top of my voice. I admit that the nightclothes made me angrier still because it was obvious to me he had a woman in there. But he hadn’t actually. He was just lying about. He said, “Just shut up and tell me what you’re yelling about.” So I did. And he laughed. This made me furious. I yelled, “You are stalking me with birds!” and to my great surprise I burst into tears.

To my further surprise, Liam was almost nice about it. He said, “Now look, Sammy, have you any idea how much parrots cost?” I hadn’t. He told me. It was a lot. “And before you get suspicious that I know,” he said, “I only know because I did an article on them last month. Right? Since when did I have enough money for four parrots? And I don’t even know where you buy hens, let alone partridges. So it’s somebody else doing this to you, not me. He has to be a rich practical joker, and he has to know how to get at your Housebot to make it ignore your orders and let these birds in. So think about all the rich men you know and then go and yell at the likely ones. Not me.”

I gave in. “So I’ve walked all this way for nothing,” I said. “And my feet hurt.”

“That’s because you wear such silly shoes,” he said.

“I’ll have you know,” I said, “that these are the very latest Stiltskins. They cost me thousands.”

He laughed, to my further indignation, and told me, “Then go home in a taxi.”

While I was waiting for the taxi, Liam put his arm round me—in an absentminded way, as if he had forgotten we weren’t still together—and said, “Poor Sammy. I’ve had a thought. What kind of trees are they?”

“How should I know?” I said. “They haven’t any leaves.”

“That is a problem,” Liam said. “Can you do me a favour and let me know if what your stalker sends next is something quite valuable?”

“I might,” I said, and then the taxi came. I don’t like these latest taxis. A mechanical tab comes out of the meter that says TIP and it’s always huge. But it was probably worth it to know that Liam hasn’t been doing this to me.

December 29, 2233

WHATEVER IDEA LIAM HAD, he was quite right! The usual tree and avians started arriving, one more partridge, more hens, more pigeons and four more parrots, noisy ones. I left Housebot, who had traitorously let them in, to deal with the damn creatures—although I have to feed the things because I can’t get Housebot to get it through its circuitry that living things have to eat: Housebot simply goes round clearing up the piles of birdseed unless I order it to stop. Anyway, I left it shunting coops and the latest tree onto the patio and set off for the Sales. I was halfway down the steps outside when a courier arrived and made me sign for a smallish package.

Someone’s sent me a book now! I thought disgustedly as I went back indoors. I nearly didn’t open it, but, because of what Liam had said, I thought I might as well. What are valuable books? I thought as I tore off wrapping. Antique Bibles? First editions of Winnie the Pooh? But it wasn’t a book. A book-size jewel case fell on the floor. I picked that up quickly before Housebot could clear it away. I gasped a bit when I opened it. There were five rings in it, all of them very flashy and valuable looking. One bulged with diamonds—or what looked like diamonds—and the rest looked like sapphires, emeralds and equally valuable stones, all in gold settings. And there was a note on top, not in real handwriting, if you see what I mean, but in that kind of round, careful writing that shop assistants use when you ask them to include a message. It said: “From your ardent admirer. Marry me.”

“Blowed if I will!” I said aloud.

The rings are all too small. I think that proves it wasn’t Liam. He once bought me an engagement ring, after all, and he knows that my fingers are rather wide at the base. Unless he’s being very cunning, of course. Whoever sent the rings seems to have very flashy taste. They all reminded me so much of the kind of glass-and-plastic rings that people give you when you are a little girl that I took the whole case of them with me when I went out to the Sales and had them checked out by a jeweller. And they are real. I could buy five more pairs of Stiltskins if I sold them. Well!

I meant to tell Liam, but I met Carla in Oxford Street and I forgot. When I told her, she wanted to know if I was thinking of marrying the unknown stalker. “No way!” I told her. “My mother probably would, though.”

December 30, 2233

OH MY GOD! I have six geese now. As well as another tree, another partridge, further pigeons, more hens and four extra parrots (making twelve of them and bedlam). I couldn’t believe these geese. I got to the door just as a whole team of men finished handing them indoors. The last one rode in on top of Housebot. They are big birds and not friendly. At least they are too large to attack the partridges under the sofa, but five of them went out onto the patio and started subduing the hens at once. The shrieks and cackling out there actually drowned out the yells from the parrots. But one goose stayed indoors and seems to have gone broody on the sofa cushions. She stretched out a long, angry neck and tried to peck me when I made an effort to persuade her to join the rest outside. So there she sits, large, boat shaped and white, with her yellow beak swivelling about to make sure I don’t disturb her and her shoe-button eyes glaring unnervingly.

The only good thing about this morning was that the same courier turned up with another parcel of rings. He is a nice young man. He seems awed by me. He said hesitantly while I was signing for the delivery, “Excuse me, miss, but aren’t you on that media clothes show? Catwalk?” I said yes, I was, but we weren’t filming at the moment. He sort of staggered away, thoroughly impressed.

The rings today are all antique fancy gold. With the same message as yesterday. Liam couldn’t have afforded any of this, even if he mortgaged his flat, his pay and his soul. I forgive him.

And I supposed I should feed the geese. I got on to Avian Foodstuffs again and they sent round a waterproof sack of slimy green nibbles. The geese don’t seem to care for them. They ate all the hen food instead. The hens protested and got gone for again. To shut them all up, I tipped out one whole sack of hen food in the corner of the patio and this just caused another furious battle. Then it rained and the geese all came indoors. The beam that opens and shuts the sliding doors to the patio is set low so that Housebot can get out there to clean the pool, and it turns out to be just goose height.

Tags: Neil Gaiman Horror
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