Page 23 of Dead Serious Case 5 Madame Vivienne

Death contemplates Nick and then turns to Danny. “That one looks like you.”

“He’s my nephew,” Danny replies by way of explanation.

“Hmm,” Death hums. He continues his perusal of Nick, clearly noting how close he’s standing to Aidan.

“Okay, well, I’ll be going, then.” Nicks says apprehensively, avoiding Death’s unnerving gaze. Instead, he scratches the back of his neck as he turns to Aidan. “Can I… um, message you?”

Aidan gives him a sweet smile and nods. “I’d like that. I’ll, uh… I’ll show you out.” He turns and collides with the door, smacking his head with a resounding thud. “Ow,” he mutters in embarrassment.

“Oh my god,” Chan snorts as Nick and Aidan disappear into the hallway. “It’s like watching a mini version of you and Danny.”

“Christ, I need a coffee.” Sam drags his hand down his face, which only succeeds in smearing the makeup further than it already is. Now he kinda resembles a sad clown.

I’m about to suggest he go and wash his face while I put the kettle on, but I’m startled by a loud honking noise from the other room, and Sol goes absolutely nuts. He charges out and a moment later, there’s more angry honking, followed by a yelp, and Sol runs back to us, pursued by a… wait a minute… is that a fucking peacock?

There’s a sudden scuffle and chaos as everyone scrambles out of the way.

“What the actual fuck?” I yell over the sound of several colourful exclamations of shock. The peacock gives a threateningpeck in Sol’s direction before spreading his tail feathers wide and knocking books off shelves and glasses and plates off the coffee table. Then it calmly leans down and starts pecking the pieces of sausage roll now strewn across the floor. Sol, the fierce warrior of the Grim Reaper he is, cowers behind the armchair.

“What the hell is that?” Chan squeaks with wide eyes.

“Looks like a peacock to me, but maybe it’s a trick question,” Harrison’s dry voice answers. “I don’t think you’re supposed to keep them as pets, Tristan. Why can’t you just get a goldfish like a normal person?”

“Harrison?” I stare at him as he stands in the doorway beside Aidan.

“He turned up as Nick was leaving.” Aidan yawns, not even blinking at the giant blue- and green-feathered bird in my living room and I find myself wondering what the hell happened last night.“Does anyone mind if I go and get some sleep? I’m knackered.”

“Go right ahead,” Danny mutters, his wild eyes trained on the bird, which is now trying to eat the TV remote. Danny, although still sitting on the gaudy throne, has snatched up a throw cushion from the nearby armchair and is brandishing it like a weapon.

“What’s he going to do with that?” Dusty sniggers, looking back and forth between Danny and the peacock, which seems to be eyeing my fiancé with equal mistrust. “Club it to death or have a pillow flight?”

“Where did it come from?” Danny demands.

Death rolls his eyes and scoops the bird up, then holds out his hand so it can eat raisins, which seem to have appeared from nowhere, from his palm.

“You said you wanted one.” Death looks directly at Chan.

“I?” Chan gasps. “I asked you to get that?”

“Them,” Death corrects as another peacock leisurely saunters out into the living room and honks.

Chan wrinkles his brow in confusion. “Why would I do that?”

“I believe you and Tristan were planning his wedding, and you said you needed exotic birds and the thrones.”

I glance over at the one Danny is perched on. “That was you? Why am I even surprised?” I shake my head. “Wait a minute… Thrones as in plural? Where’s the other one?” I ask.

“You asked me to place it in your bedchamber.” Death shrugs. “You were most insistent, Tristan.”

“Oh,” I mutter faintly, feeling my cheeks heat. “Wonder why I did that?”

I hear Dusty cackle beside me in wicked delight. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

“I could have found more authentic ones from the palace at Versailles or Hampton Court, I suppose,” Death continues blithely. “But Chan was very insistent. Apparently, these ones once belonged to a Posh and Becks. Whatever that is.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper.

“The crown is real though,” Death adds as the peacock gives another honk and pecks at his hand.