“Frank G. Ranger?” barked the iPhone on speaker while Frank was transforming himself into Fanny. He was naked, shaving every bit of himself bar his eyebrows and somewhat irritated to be interrupted.
“Speaking!” he barked back and the operator replied curtly, “Connecting you to ‘M’ Sir!” Frank looked round and marched across his bathroom to perch on the toilet seat. He had not been expecting to hear from the office this week.
“Frank? Hello dear boy! Got an assignment for you, nothing too taxing. How’s the gunshot wounds? Healing?” and, without even waiting for a reply, the voice continued, “Davos, same old routine, you know the ropes. Prep day, Friday, 13th Jan (bit unfortunate that). Need you to brief newbie, you up for that?” and Frank, ever the willing soldier, replied “Yes, Sir.” sharply.
“Full M.O. by usual channels, have a good Christmas and New Year, Frank. Love to your mother!” and the call disconnected.
Frank returned to shaving his legs and avoided his gunshot wounds carefully. He applied a generous layer of honey to the five wounds on his legs and hip, laying a thin gauze on each and taping them flat around the edges. They were looking much improved, but they were not his first and would probably not be the last either.
When he finished dressing he applied the bobbed wig and picked up the large heavy handbag concealing his usual array of weapons and the more expected nursing paraphernalia under his makeup pouch. He admired his reflection in the full length bedroom mirror as he passed by on his way to the door.
“Diamond! Are you ready to roll, honey?” he called as he approached her bedroom door and was amazed at how quickly she opened it to reveal herself, bolt upright, in heels and looking absolutely stunning. He whistled and she sparkled. Arm in arm, they went carefully down the many flights of stairs to the underground garage. Frank with restricted knees in his tight nurse’s uniform and Diamond braving the pain in her back. Gingerly, Frank, now Fanny once more, helped Diamond into the passenger seat and drove them away to Tarky’s studio.
—0—
Dave, SeaSwan’s devoted Skipper, was sticking as closely to his planned route through the Caribbean as he feasibly could. The shipping lanes were busy but the winds were very fair for the time of year. He was making good progress and was very satisfied with Khan’s enthusiasm for learning. He might catch some shut eye over the following three weeks, if Khan continued to be so keenly adept. Dave showed Khan a very good film of a similarly rigged ketch which was outfitted almost identically to the SeaSwan.
It helped Khan to familiarise himself with the correct names for the rigging and equipment that Dave might be using to deliver instructions. Olympia had been inspired to utilise the storage spaces with more skill and said she wanted a cat after watching it!
The agreed theoretical route was to aim for the island of Grenada (about 250 nautical miles), take a restful break, cross the Atlantic to Cape Verde off the west coat of Africa (just over 2,000 nautical miles away) and then sail north, close to the coast all the way to London. The latter part of the route would provide safe shelter if the weather became difficult.
So far, the weather had been glorious and they were making good time, without incident.
—0—
Pru Dense collected the designated outfit, created exclusively for Diamond Duhdashian by Vivid Wastedwood. She was late, caught up in London’s typical Friday morning traffic. Diving into her car, she headed out to the suburbs and Tarky’s photographic studio, where she was to meet up with Dim and Fanny. Thankfully the traffic was less crammed and she arrived only five minutes behind Tarky, who was setting a stage for the artful front page of Harper’s Bazaar. Dim and Fanny arrived a few minutes later.
The designer had emphasised Diamond’s new extra narrow waistline with a deep V-necked red lace dress. Twenty minutes later and Tarky had two dozen shots against a green screen to play with. He provided a smudged London street background and intended to tweak the end result maybe with some holly at Dim’s feet or something, but was also muttering about glitter as he rushed his clients out of the door.
Pru suspected that he had other plans for the rest of the day and made a mental note to cut his fee accordingly. Dim was absolutely in love with the dress and Pru was a little disturbed by that Fanny woman, who she swore she saw stroking Dim’s neck. Dim had giggled, so Pru wondered if she had suddenly given up on men and was trying lesbianism for a season. Could happen, she thought. She had done something similar herself at the last Rothschild soiree.
Diamond and Fanny sped away with barely a wave goodbye, confirming Pru’s salacious suspicions. That left Pru checking her watch, dropping her masseur a quick text and escaping her office for the rest of the day.
As always an oldies show on the radio seemed to cheer her on….
SPIES, LIES AND GUYS
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
"He whistled and she sparkled"... Oh Frances, I like it...