Paint the Town Red (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book II)

What About Second Lunch?

The next morning instead of her alarm clock, or even her neighbour's rooster Mr. Nobley, Imogen was woken up by a loud knock to her front door. Imogen was such a dysfunctional person in such an hour that she simply rolled off the sofa, stumbled through the hall, and jerked her door open, unbothered by the fact that she was exposing whoever was behind it to the view of her pyjamas.

"'Ello," said the person exposed to the view. It was a large male in coveralls.

"Morning," Imogen answered politely, if somewhat confused.

"I'm the man with a van," he said.

Imogen peeked behind him. There was indeed a white van parked there. The words 'Moody Moving and Storing' were plastered on its side.

"Yes, you are," said Imogen.

At that moment the Mayor's Land Rover turned around the corner onto Imogen's driveway. The car stopped, the door opened, and the Mayor showed up around it - distinctly not dressed in his usual suit. Imogen couldn't help but ogle his long legs in the dark denim, and how the charcoal jumper hugged his torso.

"Morning," he said and looked her over. "You've slept in, I see."

"I don't think I did." Imogen wondered if she was still sleeping and having a bizarre dream. "It's only—"

At that moment her alarm clock started shrieking behind her in the lounge. It was one of those old metal clocks, it used to belong to her Mother. It was also placed in a metal pot Imogen usually used to boil pasta. The night before due to the Mayor staying late Imogen had been concerned she would simply turn off the alarm on her phone and go back to sleep, thus actually sleeping in.

Imogen stood staring at the Mayor, who stood and looked at her, while Mr. Moody, the mover and the storer, kept shifting his gaze between the two of them. The alarm clock continued its shrilling song.

"Imogen, your alarm clock—" Kathy said, appearing from the bedroom. "Oh, hi."

"Morning," said the Mayor and Mr. Moody in unison.

"Imogy! The alarm!" Brian yelled, running from the bedroom to the loo - and then he dug his heels into the floor and gawked at the Mayor.

"Morning, Brian," said the latter. Mr. Moody didn't join him this time.

Imogen's right eye twitched. And then some cogs sluggishly turned in her noggin.

"Are you moving us to the Firs?" she asked in disbelief.

"Of course," the Mayor answered as if it had been agreed on and discussed many times before.

It had not. The night before after Imogen had finished squawking and they had snogged for another half an hour, he'd left, promising to 'arrange everything.' Imogen had to admit that since it had always been her who had done any sort of arranging of anything in her and the Mayor's life, she'd shrugged off the notion of any major changes coming any time soon and had gone to bed to dream about more of the delicious mayoral snogs.

"But— And I haven't— And—" Imogen managed to say, and then she gathered lungfuls of fresh morning air and blurted out, "I'm in my pyjamas!"

"You look lovely," said the Mayor, leaned in, and tenderly kissed her cheek. "Do you need help to pack?"

"What's going on?" Kathy asked.

The door to the loo banged in the house. Apparently as interesting as the happenings were, Brian couldn't hold it anymore.

"Your Aunt and I decided to move in together," the Mayor announced. "And we've rented the cottage called the Firs. It's near Mr. Kaur's pharmacy, near the Old Firestation. And today while you're at school, we'll move your things."