Madeleine Gray (burnlyrical) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2011-03-20 04:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | #solo, 2009-08-13, madeleine |
Pushes the dagger deep, completes the kill
Who: Madeleine
Where: Home
When: Morning
“What?”
When her cell had been waking her up at regular intervals since about five o’clock in the morning, Madeleine did not believe in answering politely. Even less so given that it was her birthday and while that meant very little to her, it was supposed to be of some importance to people who... weren’t her. That she did not expect a stranger to know it was her birthday did not factor into the equation. The constant ringing (rendered to a constant buzzing when she had the presence of mind to set it to silent) had put her in a foul mood. Ideally, she needed several cups of tea and an hour sat by the fire before she could face her own mother, never mind a rather serious-sounding nobody who appeared to be from her neck of the woods. Hang on, what? Blinking, she lifted the phone from her ear and stared at the screen. An international call. Well, she supposed that explained it. Had she taken the time to think about it, it also explained the timing of the previous calls. But she hadn’t, so the caller remained entirely unforgiven.
“Sorry, what?”
That would have been the problem with moving the phone away from her ear. She missed whatever it was they were saying. If it wasn’t going to be worth her time, someone’s day would be made a living hell. Half-listening to the background chatter that was the caller addressing someone else, Madeleine slid out of bed for the sole purpose of tossing a new log into the fireplace. It was crackling by the time she had crawled back under the covers. The world outside her bedroom generally did not have permission to exist until she said so. Phone calls were the exception. And she had to say she had excellent reception given that the call was from England.
“Mrs. Gray, I--”
“Which Mrs. Gray?” The question was snapped, and she would not usually have bothered asking, but half of the known world seemed content to ignore the fact she was divorced. Then again, if they were after her mother, why were they calling Madeleine’s phone? What title did Lila go by? Questions for when she was a little more compus mentis, perhaps. Now, if this man could hurry along, she might be able to get another hour’s lazing in before her mother - or Chuckie - came in to see if she was still alive.
“Mrs. - Ah, Madeleine Gray?”
“Speaking.” Words could not express how much she hated that he had the right number. “And it’s Miss.” Not a massive detail. Why was it such a hard one to grasp?
“... Miss. Gray, I’m Dr. Aldridge.” How nice for him. “Your husband--” Ex. “--was brought into the Royal London Hospital around nine-thirty this morning, suffering some kind of allergic reaction.” Eyes that had been trying to will her back to sleep opened again to frown at the ceiling. Her wet blanket of an ex was not allergic to anything, as far as she was aware. Though she supposed his aversion to fire may have taken a turn for the worse since she last saw him. But elements did not trigger allergic reactions. While something tugged sleepily at her memory, at that particular moment Madeleine was far more inclined to let him do the explaining. “We tried contacting you, but--”
“Does this phone call have a point or were you planning on giving me each and every detail?” Just out of interest. Sitting up, one hand reached behind her to fluff up her pillows while her thumb hit speakerphone. She wasn’t holding the phone up for this pillock. His slightly tinny noises of hesitation were irritating her. With one hand playing with her hair and the other with her necklace, the phone was left on her stomach. Now would be a wonderful time for him to answer that question.
Then came the pause that was uncomfortable only for Dr. Aldridge.
“Anthony Myers passed away just over half an hour ago. I’m sorry for your loss.”
This was where Madeleine was fairly certain she was supposed to say something. Something with a certain element of incredulity. Because how could he be dead? He was only young, etc. Instead she had pulled her necklace up over her chin and had taken to staring at it somewhat accusingly. Zaviar had not bothered making sure it would be a particularly prolonged death, but she still had not expected that paperweight to kill him quite that quickly. Allergic reaction, my arse. She hadn’t expected the idiot of a water elemental to even open his mail that quickly. Not so soon that it would disturb her sleep, at any rate. That said, the idea that he may possibly have been allergic to something Zaviar had used in his spell did cross her mind, much to her amusement. Which reminded her, she did need to tell him his curse-thing had worked. If only so that burn on his arm definitely counted for something more than just trying to kill-- ‘You should probably hang up before he hears you sniggering,’ Althea pointed out, hanging down from her place on the bed canopy to inspect the phone. Madeleine didn’t really see why it was necessary. She did not care if the doctor thought she was some heartless bitch - in this case it was a fairly accurate assessment - but she still cut him off. Let him think she had hung up in some kind of emotional... fit. Whatever it was that the grief-stricken did.
Yawning, she stretched her arms out, bringing the phone back with them. It was past seven o’clock. Zaviar would be awake. If not, at least he was being woken at a reasonable time with good news.
Unlike her. Even the cretin’s death had managed to be inconveniently timed.
‘It’s not like he’s going to do it again.’