It was lunchtime before anyone on board Olympia’s charter yacht stirred after their mad alcoholic binge. The Captain, still on watch in the wheelhouse, was half asleep himself. It is very hard to stay awake when everyone in your vicinity is vibing zedZ💤. He was fantasising that he was aboard the SeaSwan, crossing the Atlantic and heading for Britain, his original home, when Khan appeared on deck.
“Morning Sir!” the Captain hailed him and offered some coffee from the galley machine. Khan, speechless within his weighty hangover, gratefully took the cup and squatted on one of the low loungers.
“Fuck this!” he breathed into the steamy cup. “Can’t we make some excuse to get-the-fuck-outta-here?” and the Captain smirked at his pain. “In a heartbeat, mate!” he said “Have a word in Madam’s shell-like and we are offski!”
Khan nodded. “You are on!” he determined and swallowed down his coffee. He got two more cups of coffee from the galley and went down to the master cabin to waken Olympia.
The Captain, smiling for the first time since they had docked, calculated how quickly he could pilot the yacht to Venezuela where his precious SeaSwan was safely stored. He had the inkling of a plan nurtured in his imagination and he saw it manifesting, if he played his cards right.
Olympia winced as Khan opened the blinds. “Ouch!” she whined and covered her head with the quilt. Khan laughed and poked her hip. “Coffee, Madam!” he announced.
Twenty minutes later Olympia was suggesting that they move on to the next islands in the chain and Khan was silently congratulating himself on his skills in psychological manipulation.
The crew, still slightly drunk from the night before, relieved the Captain who retired to his cabin to grab some much needed sleep. Breakfast was underway when Olympia announced that she wanted to quit Guadeloupe and asked the crew to consult the Captain’s route chart.
The next port of call was to be Roseau on the leeward side of the island, Dominica. Chef begged time to replenish his stores and he went ashore. The rest of the crew prepared the yacht for departure as soon as the Captain resurfaced.
—0—
Diamond Duhdashian’s house in Kensington was very familiar to Fanny Groesadijk. She had been there many times in her part-time capacity as a member of the paparazzi pack. This morning, dressed smartly in her favourite nurse’s uniform and sensible shoes, she tapped the intercom buzzer and was admitted into the spartan minimalist interior by the housekeeper, who was primed and expecting her. Fanny loved her little room as soon as she saw it. It was on the top floor of the five storey Victorian terraced house and overlooked the very lush Kensington Gardens.
Fanny laid her suitcase on the bed and immediately followed the housekeeper who was gesturing to rooms, giving a rudimentary clue about the layout of the house. They descended to the ground floor and entered the lounge where Diamond Duhdashian lay on her chaise longue, mournfully watching television.
“Ms Groesadijk, Madam.” Announced the housekeeper and immediately left the room.
”Thank you for being so prompt.” said Dim. “I hope you don’t mind if I don’t get up to greet you properly.” and Fanny smiled that kindly considerate smile which had won her the job outside Dr Dontrust’s clinic.
Dim detailed the intimate assistance she would be needing and Fanny’s groin began to twitch uncontrollably. This assignment is getting better all the time, she thought and discreetly perched alongside Dim to take her temperature and blood pressure.
”Perfect” she purred “as are you, Madam!” Dim blushed without understanding why. It must be the morphine she imagined and tried to focus on Fanny’s face, but it was hopeless. She was seeing a kaleidoscope of rainbow light from Fanny’s eyes, obscuring the features. For a very brief moment she observed that Fanny had remarkably beautiful large hands with French polished nails.
”Ooh! French polishing is so rare a skill these days!” she said admiringly.
”True, Madam!” nodded Fanny, “I would be delighted to polish yours, just say the word!” and she flashed that lovely smile one more devastating time, eliciting reflective delight from the very pained face of her new client. “But first, we must make you as comfortable as possible.” Fanny stated firmly and set about arranging the pillows and blankets. In the process she was able to glimpse the dressings which required her expert attention immediately. “When you are ready, Madam, we must change those dressings. I have had a lot of experience with deep tissue wounds and I have my own very special formula for reducing scar tissue.”
Dim was overwhelmed with gratitude that she had met this angel. “By all means!” she said, “Limiting the scars is essential!” and she felt better already just because Fanny was there caring for her.
Pru Dense called Dim to ask if Fanny had arrived and was thanked for her thoughtfulness. She was baffled. She could not remember if Dim had expressed thanks to her for anything ever before. She was fairly certain that Dim had accessed an alter-ego due to the strong medication. Bizarro, she thought as she ended the call and headed out of her home towards another long boring day in the office. A new song from Robert Plant and Alison Krauss came on the car radio and she rocked along while crawling the car in the regular rush hour traffic jam:
I wonder if I could squeeze in a quickie at lunchtime, she mused, as she passed close by her masseur’s pied á terre in Soho. She sent him a text message. “Are you free around 1pm?” and the reply jingle alerted her to read “For you, darling, of course!” which made her smile broadly in London’s infernal traffic, a rare sight indeed.
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
Ha...so pleased you got that and that "Fanny" was used intentionally.
Such great minds like ours, cannot be separated by an ocean 😂😂😁