The Misadventures of Vera Durmot
Vera Durmot was desperate. Her father had set her up with a "potential fiancé" from an affluent family, now, she and her parents were at their residence, discussing the details of her potential marriage. It was not like she did not protest the notion of marriage and in fact, she did with vigour. She even tried to weasel out of the deal by claiming that she was infertile. However her father was wise, especially after the numerous amount of times she had attempted, both successfully and unsuccessfully to use her so called "silver tongue" to escape from undesirable situations or to cause mischief. So, her father was naturally unconvinced and only replied to her with one thing; "Should we get a physician to do a check-up?" Vera then did the rational thing and quickly back-peddled from her claim, stating that it was all in jest. Her father was not amused.
But alas, Vera was now sitting on a couch facing her potential husband in the drawing room, while their parents were in the lounge discussing the terms of their marriage over whiskey. She could hear the deep hearty laugh of her father and also the graceful titter of the women from the other room, perhaps discussing about her marriage, gossiping about who knows what, they could even be talking about how nice the weather was today for all she cared. However the silence was deafening in the room and there appeared to be an uncomfortable tension between the two, with Vera depicting a calm, indifferent, self-possessed demeanour and the potential fiancé simply too awkward to start a conversation.
The fiancé was twenty-two, and she was four years younger than him. His appearance was average, if not a bit chubby but he was still tolerable in Vera's opinion. However, he had a habit of fidgeting in his seat, stuttering in his words and a general impression that he was a fairly sheltered individual that clearly had little to no experience with women except perhaps his mother. That was why Vera instantly disliked him the moment she walked into the manor and couldn't imagine having to live with him for the rest of her life, let alone bear his children.
Which was why Vera Durmot needed a plan, a plan to escape from this situation and still be in the good graces of her family. So she decided she needed an icebreaker, both to break the mind-numbing silence between the two and to break apart this arrangement. Finally, after only silence for an indeterminable amount of time, Vera opened her lips.
"Have you killed someone before?" Vera said calmly.
"Ex-excuse me?" The fiancé managed to stutter out.
"I said," she repeated "have you killed someone before?"
"Well ye-yeah, I've killed things before, like killing ants with a magnifying glass you know?" he answered.
"What I actually meant was," she paused, "have you killed, murdered, tortured or butchered someone before?" Vera said as she stared into his eyes, deadly serious.
"Of-of course not!" He exclaimed. "That's preposterous! What civilized person would ever dream of doing that?"
"Well I have." Vera answered in a deadpan manner. The room was again silent, with Vera staring at her fiancé and him desperately trying to comprehend what she just said. After a few seconds between the two, the fiancé decided to speak.
"Well I-I do-on't be-believe you, you surely had made that up." He accused, stuttering irregularly.
In hearing his reaction, Vera only raised her eyebrows and continued speaking. "Well you see," she paused, "two years ago, our family travelled deep into the jungles of Peru in search of the Jivaro tribe. My father is of the adventurous sort, and when he heard a tribe that cut their enemies' heads off then shrunk them, he was absolutely fascinated. So when we arrived, we learned about their traditions of head-hunting and their rituals of shrinking heads. It was then my father had an enlightenment and when we arrived back in Britain, this has been a family tradition ever since."
By now, Vera's fiancé was visibly shaking and all color had drained from his face. "What d-do you m-mean by family tradition?" He stuttered.
"We currently have a delightful collection of shrunken heads in our cellar." She answered.
There was no response from the fiancé and he looked like he was ready to bolt out of the room any second. The only sound that was heard from the drawing room was Vera's father next-door bragging about how "that restaurant's hors d'oeuvre was simply delicious!" and then giving one of his deep signature laughs.
"You hear that?" Vera asked as she pointed in the direction of the lounge.
"Hear what?" The fiancé replied, paranoid.
"My father's laughter." she replied.
"Yeah, why?" he asked.
Vera began to explain. "Because that's exactly the laugh my father makes when he takes his machete and carves into the victim's scalp, tearing-"
"Wait stop, stop, stop!" He interrupted. "Why are you telling me this? Won't you just incriminate yourself?" He said desperately.
"We are going to be married soon right? I was just trying to know more about each other, a kind of heart-to-heart if you will." Vera said sincerely.
At that realization that the person sitting in front of him was his to-be-wife, if his expression previously had been of horror, he now looked like he was going to defecate himself.
"I would also advice you not to tell a soul about this," she warned, "if you value your well-being that is."
At that he remained stiff as a plank and only bobbed his head up and down successively to show his acknowledgement. He was however interrupted when Vera's father called out from the other room. "Vera! It's time to leave!"
Vera stared at him again for confirmation, sat up, walked towards the door and before leaving she whispered into his ear. "You'll keep my secret, right?"
The fiancé was left sitting on the couch, expression empty from the harrowing experience as Vera Durmot disappeared from the doorway.
As Vera walked out the gates of the manor, she felt a warm, fuzzy feeling that reached deep down to her soul.
Epilogue
Several days later.
Vera was suddenly called into her father's study and his displeasure was clearly present on his face. "I just got a telegram from the Kimberleys, and they said they wanted to cancel the marriage arrangements. Vera, did you have anything to do with this?" Her father accused.
"Perhaps you made a bad impression on them?" Vera riposted.
Her father's eye twitched. "If I discover you had a hand in this young lady, your life won't be so rosy." He warned.
Vera thought that if her father did disown her, she could fancy a career in being an extortionist.
FIN.