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136 Charing Cross

Isabella Garrett
Isabella Garrett

May-24-2010 14:30


“Now you be a good girl…”

“I shall… Papa…”

“I will just be a minute with Mrs. Devereux here…”

“Yes, Papa…”

“Then it is off for a Popsicle…”

“Mamma says it is unseemly to have dessert before lunch… Papa…”

“She does, does she? Well, Isabella, you are my daughter as much as you are hers… and a daughter of mine can have a Popsicle whenever she desires…”

“Well, Papa, if it is indeed my heart’s desire we’re after, then I would much rather have crème brulee…”

“Well then, we have an understanding my sweet…”

“Well as close to one as ever...”

"Pardon my sweet?"

"Oh nothing... Papa... nothing at all..."

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Isabella Garrett
Isabella Garrett

May-24-2010 14:33


It was with immense suspicion that Isabella Garrett looked into her father’s briefcase as soon as he left the room. Clift Garrett had been seeing women other than her mother for as long as she can remember and although he would always promise her that he would stop, she was certain that he never did keep those promises.

Isabella was not sure what she would find as she shuffled the papers in the briefcase. She soon stumbled across some cologne and, having smelled it, realised it was her father’s horrid scent. She had a few more minutes to ensure that her suspicions about her father and Mrs. Devereux were correct. It would also be the last time she would see Clift for months.

She soon found his trustee lighter. Engraved upon it were the letters M.B., which made her think back to Auntie Makensie Brewer. Clift had always implied and promised Auntie Makensie marriage, whilst never really fulfilling any of his promises.

“Typical…” Isabella spoke out loud, “So simply typical of father…”

She soon realised that everything her father owned was a gift from a woman or other. Nothing he owned was purple. Nothing he owned was characteristic of her mother in the least. That was the only thing she liked about Clift, he would have to try very hard to remind her in the least of her mother and the upbringing, or lack of, she was given.

Father was improper and though seemingly nice, can at times be the rudest person one could meet. He did not have much control of his emotions and hardly tried. The only thing Isabella could not understand was that though she showed older women much love and affection, he would be at a loss whenever he meets her, his own daughter, during his rare visits to London.

“Silly man…” She again uttered, “perfectly absurd…”


Isabella Garrett
Isabella Garrett

May-24-2010 14:34


It was then that she came across a crumpled piece of paper. It read: ‘Mme. Jeanne Vidocq 136 Charing Cross’ … At least she now knew who it was that he was seeing. She proceeded to hide the note in the folds of her dress.

Isabella was suddenly alert: Perhaps it was one of his clients…

“Well at any rate,” She concluded. “It will be something of interest to show the girls.”



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