Fowl play

Photo prompt © Ayr/Gray

She floats into the office like she owns it. A classy blonde with deepwater eyes, and a trick of arching her long neck and pinning you to the wall with an uppercut look. The type my mother warned me about. Says her name’s Helen and never mind about surnames. That’s her point, she says.

She claims her mother’s been spouting a tale that would ruffle the feathers of an angel. A mishap, Mother’s calling it. Years ago some handsome fellow flew in needing comfort and Daddy didn’t seem to mind at the time. 

Now twenty years on Mummy dear suddenly gets the urge to come clean and the family’s in uproar.

Never pays to give in to the guilts, I always say. What’s done is done.

It isn’t just paternity or inheritance issues, claims Helen, there are higher stakes. 

These types worry about such things. Bloodlines, who’s entitled to lord it over the others. The upshot is the kiddos are in a dither trying to work it all out. 

I ask for details and she describes a stately home, lakeside, with egg collections under glass. Is that a clue? I make a note to follow that up.

Whatever’s gone on, the family reputation has nosedived and the doll wants answers. Can I help?

She leaves with a flick of her long white feather boa and I figure I need some thinking time. I collect my sandwiches and a flask of tea and head to the lake to watch the swans.

*****

Leda, by Gustave Moreau

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This 250 word story is for The Unicorn Challenge, hosted by Jenne Gray and C. E. Ayr.