Page 4 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume
Who am I kidding? I’d never leap off a building while it explodes. Danny, though, he’d make a great action hero—all those sexy muscles and chest hair wrapped up in a ripped-up vest. I give a happy hum as my mind wanders.
“It’s Secret Santa time!” Hen announces gleefully in a loud voice, startling me out of my little Danny/Bruce hybrid fantasy. Her eyes are bright as she bounces up and down, an Asda carrier bag with a large red gift bow stapled to it hanging from one fist.
Just how much Buck’s Fizz has she consumed? I know she started a hell of a lot earlier than I did and as much as I really want to go home to my boyfriend, I resign myself to staying and trying to corral her into a taxi so she gets home safely.
I watch, my stomach churning, as she hands out presents to each of us. Mr Baxter goes first, opening up his present to find a small novelty book of fart jokes. It was pretty much the least sexual thing I could find and still have it possibly come under the naughty stipulation.
Hen is practically vibrating out of her skin as she turns to Judy, prompting her to open her present. She does and I grimace. It’s a huge—and I meanhuge—glitter bath bomb in the shape of a giant, erect penis.
“Oh, uh, very nice.” Judy blinks and clears her throat. “I, uh… do like a good soak in the bath.”
Hen, unable to help herself, cackles and clutches her own present.
Judy sighs. “Oh for goodness’ sake, Henrietta. Why don’t you open yours?”
Hen gives another tipsy giggle and strips the paper from her gift. “Oh yes! Thank you, Santa!” She whoops and ogles the large calendar of naked men gripping power tools and fire hoses.
Ted, our orderly who transports the bodies on trolleys and sees that they are stored correctly, then tears into his gift, giving a bark of laughter at the box of chocolate boobs. Clearly not in the least bit embarrassed, he opens the box and stuffs at least three into his mouth at once. “First time I’ve been able to fit three titties in my mouth at the same time,” he mumbles around the chocolate.
Judy rolls her eyes.
“Your turn, Tris!” Hen beams. “I wanna see what you got.”
“Oh, um.” I swallow, my cheeks already burning with embarrassment and I haven’t even got the wrapping paper off yet. I gingerly open the gift up to find a small, rectangular package containing a thong made of candy. “Uh… thanks.” I flush again.
Knowing full well Hen didn’t buy that as she was responsible for the bath bomb dick, I cringe at the thought of one of the others maybe buying it for me. I make a mental note to later murder Hen for suggesting naughty Secret Santa and everyone else for going along with it. What happened to a regular Secret Santa? I’d much rather have a cheap Lynx Africa set from Sainsbury’s than edible underwear.
“I wonder who bought that for you?” Dusty smirks beside me. “I’ll bet it was Mr Baxter. Still waters run deep and all that.”
We both glance over to find my boss laughing heartily to himself as he reads the fart joke book.
Dusty narrows her eyes. “Really deep.”
“Hen?” I look over at my little red-haired pixie of a friend. “Swap with me?”
I mean the calendar is a bit clichéd but rather sexy naked men than knickers designed by Willy Wonka.
“No way.” Hen frowns and cradles the calendar closer to her chest as if I’m going to steal it from her. The thought does cross my mind. “At least you have a hot boyfriend to chew those things off you. I’ve got nothing but a fridge full of Prosecco, my faithful dildo Mr Johnson, and this.” She holds up the calendar and jiggles it.
“TMI, Hen.”
“Tristan,” Judy beckons me over, still clutching the glittery cock. “May I have a word?”
“Sure.” I head over to her as she sets her bath bomb on the desk beside the cocktail sausages. “What’s up?”
“I’m glad I finally have a chance to speak with you. We’ve been so busy lately.” I nod as she continues, “I know that being so short-staffed after Alan left has fallen largely on your shoulders, and we’re grateful for how much you’ve done.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug. “Someone has to do it.”
“You’ve always been a hard worker, Tristan.” Judy studies me. “How long have we worked together now?”
“Uh, seven years?” I reply, wondering where she’s going with this. Maybe she’s also overindulged with the Buck’s Fizz and is feeling all soppy and nostalgic.
She nods. “I always understood your need to throw yourself into the job, Tris. It gave you something to focus on when your dad began to decline, so we never said anything. We trusted you to know what you needed. But that was before. We’ve seen how happy you are with Danny this past year. He lights you up inside, and it’s truly been a joy to see you opening up.”
Oh god, I hope she didn’t buy me the edible underwear.
“It hasn’t escaped my notice that, even before our staffing problems, you hadn’t taken any time off since summer, and that was only because you were ill and Danny had that dreadful accident and broke his leg.”