British Petroleum and Beef Cobblers
Not to be served together, obviously! Episode 43 in the Lymp Duhdashian series
Pru had to admit that this New Year with the Duhdashian sisters had been the best she could remember. Mind you, remembering any would be a miracle, given her penchant for partying! She had returned to the daily grind at her office with her main mission only a vague outline in her mind, but it was fleshing out, gradually.
Tarquin Slain’s name was top of her to-do list, so she called him. “Hi Tarky, happy new year!” she chirped, “Did you say that you would be in Davos this coming weekend?” and Tarky confirmed. “Excellent! I may have a small favour to ask!” she purred on and Tarky listened with interest…..
Meanwhile in Kensington, Olympia and Diamond, dressed to kill, were metaphorically high-fiving their way through a very productive zoom meeting. Their drooling victims, top PR Executives from BP in Aberdeen, were putty as they were led easily to closure of the deal that Olympia had drafted. They were excited to enhance BP’s reputation among Britain’s younger generations, having been the target of many protests in this recent decade. “We will provide you with a script for the Climate Action speech, of course!” confirmed the younger executive, staring unashamedly at Diamond’s fabulous figure. Zoom was so useful like that. A man could drink in every detail via the screen and not be observed with his gaze in the wrong place, so to speak.
Ah technology! It has done so much for perverts and wankers.
Terminating the meeting, the Duhdashian sisters cracked up and congratulated each other’s brazen misuse of cleavage and curves. “Did you see his eyes pop when I adjusted my bra strap?” Diamond giggled, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, “I nearly lost it!” and Olympia imitated her sister’s sultry body language, slowly dragging her elegant long fingernails over a bare shoulder.
“You two make Cruella de Ville look charming!” observed Khan and Dave agreed with a nod. “There should be a law against it, mate!” but he grinned and winked at the sisters as he made coffee at Frank’s vacant dispensary. “Where is Frank today?” he asked Diamond.
Frank had an appointment with the gunshot wound specialist attached to MI6, but he had told Diamond that he was “prepping” for the upcoming assignment in Davos. He had received the usual package of instructions and intel, had boned up on the various British participants and he had arranged to meet the new recruit at HQ later that day. He had been taken aback by how similar to Khan the young newbie looked in his official ID image. An idea was beginning to germinate in his over-active brain. He would need to chat to Olympia about it later.
The doctor, signing Frank’s fitness report, noticed how distracted he seemed. “Any psychological hiccups over that last gig, Frank?” he asked. “No Sir! What gig?” came the firm response and the doctor smiled, knowing that even if Frank was hysterical inside, there would be no way of knowing it from his vital signs. “You are fit to return to duty then. I hope I don’t see you again!” and the doctor gestured that Frank could get dressed as he disappeared from the examination room.
London was its usual overcast self, threatening rain all morning. An exasperated delivery driver interrupted the giggling Duhdashian sisters by ringing the doorbell. Khan went to the door and took delivery of a large parcel addressed to himself. He began to open it as he returned to the lounge. Olympia spotted the parcel and remarked that Khan could now return her favourite pink tracksuit to its rightful place in the wardrobe of her childhood room. She informed him that this particular outfit last fitted her when she was fourteen! “That explains a lot!” smirked Dave, who had taken photos of Khan wearing the tracksuit for potential future blackmail purposes.
Khan pulled out two designer labelled hoodies and matching loose pants. Two sets of EMF shielding Long Johns plus long sleeved t-shirts. “What? No tin foil hat?” he quipped and he thanked Olympia for her thoughtfulness. “No worries!” admitted Olympia, “I can’t have you running around the park freaking the neighbours, can I?”
When Frank returned from his day at the office he smelled something wonderful wafting up from the kitchen. Diamond had the housekeeper’s recipe book propped up on the work surface and she was tidying away a few bits and bobs. “I have made us a Beef Cobbler!” she announced proudly, “It is in the oven!” Frank could not remember what Beef Cobbler was, so he peered at the recipe image:
“Wow! Smells terrific!” he said with his mouth watering. “Can’t wait to try it!” and he hugged Diamond, wiping a streak of flour from her face. “My domestic Goddess!” he teased. They went up to the lounge on the ground floor, but Olympia and Khan were nowhere to be seen.
“Where is everyone?” asked Frank. Diamond winked, pointed at the ceiling and said “Extended siesta maybe? I have invited Pru and Dave for dinner, so I hope they can make it. Pru has been incredibly busy working on Lymp’s Plan. The details are still very hush-hush….. maybe you can wring some juice out of them over dinner?”
Frank had a few plans of his own that he wanted to discuss with everyone. This impromptu dinner date was going to provide a most convenient opportunity to thrash out the details.
To access all the episodes of this ludicrous fictional tale of social media influencers and their self indulgent life, simply go to the pinned comment on:
Episode 17 -https://francesleader.substack.com/p/diamonds-are-occasionally-dim