That's right. I'm sitting here half an hour before school trying to get as much coffee in as I can and just starting another chapter because I love writing them and I'll be a dead girl walking by the time I get home. Here's some of the plot. And thank – you once again Eiffel. I am having a love affair with Paris, and I thought it suited Jim in an odd kind of way. And honestly? I have no idea =)
The Smetheys House Hold 2am
Mrs Smetheys padded her way down their oak staircase, flicking the light on at the end, holding a aluminium baseball bat in her violently shaking hands.
"Who... Who's there"? She asked the empty shadows at the end of the hall. She immediately froze as she heard footsteps behind her on the stairs. She held the bat somewhat steady and waited for them to get as close as she could before spinning around and swinging the bat with as much force as she could…
"OUCH" came the muffled voice of her husband from behind his arms as he tries to protect himself.
"Dean? What on earth are you doing down here?" I hissed loudly.
"I could ask you the same thing" was the dry response.
I put the baseball bat down on the corner of the stairs and hugged my husband, trying to stop my hammering heart.
"I, I thought I hea... I thought I heard someone down stairs" I whispered into his chest.
"Well I can say this much honey, if there was somebody down here, you've probably scared them off by now." I could hear the smile in his voice as he picked me up and carried me up the stairs.
"Anyway, is was probably just a possum or something" he said soothingly, trying to calm me
I completely forget about the baseball bat. As we almost made it threw the bedroom door, I thought I heard a faint chuckle coming from under the stairs, but I ignored it
Was probably just my imagination.
Irene' P.O.V
Well this was interesting. I was told the Smetheys had left the country for a holiday.
Standing at the bottom of the staircase, I glanced down at the baseball bat, then back up at the staircase. Should I go up there and terrorise them a bit? I cut back the thought before I even finished it. No, these people were good people. Just collectors. I'm guessing Mr Smetheys didn't even realise who he had brought from. Moriarty doesn't always advertise his name on everything. Despite what people may think.
I step down from the staircase and admire the clutter stacked around the hall and under the stairs. I know he's placed it all down here, so when you walk in the front door it's one of the first things you notice.
Shaking my head with a smile on my face, I glide over towards the item in which I'd been paid to collect, picked it up and did a quick inspection. No damage and recently been polished. Mr Smetheys takes care of his pride possessions.
Stashing the pure gold scales away carefully, I take a packet of black stairs and sprinkled them along the hall then slow danced my way out the door, humming a Disney song in my head as I go.
I got back on my bike and headed towards the Francis House, hoping these tenants were out tonight.
Finally, something was going my way
