Rolling The Dice

[Caspin]

The Plot Thickens

Styles made the bed and tidied the house the next morning, a bright day full of the last sunshine of summer, wondering whether he was overreacting to recent events. Of course his lovely young wife and daughters didn't want him dead! What was he thinking!




It was just pure coincidence that all of the plumbing had failed last night, nearly drowning him in the bathroom, that the computer had nearly given him a heart attack and that there was barely a functioning appliance left in the house! Absurd to suspect his girls of attempting to do away with him. Silly old Styles!




He went downstairs to find that his charming toddler Veronica had left him yet more toxic poop to clean up. What a little sweetheart she is, thought Styles!




Vanessa and Victoria exchanged glances - time to start the next attempt!

Keep Calm and Carry On

Victoria: Dad!
Styles: Oh lord, what?!
Victoria: Don't look so worried Dad. I was just wondering whether you'd teach me to drive? Everyone at school is learning and it would be great if I could take the car to the prom next week. What do you say?
Styles: .........
Victoria: Hello?
Styles: You want me to get into the car with you? And teach you how to drive? Put my life in your hands ahahahaha! Erm ....... OK. This afternoon. What could possibly go wrong?
Victoria: Great - thanks!




Styles fretted about the driving lesson all morning. She's going to kill me in the car ..... no, that can't be right. She'd risk killing herself too. Besides, I've decided to set aside all these silly notions. On with the driving!

Styles: Jeez, Victoria, slow down!
Victoria: What? It's a fast car. This is no sloppy jalopy.
Styles: Yes, but ARRRRRGH! Watch out for the cat!
Victoria: Rather tense aren't you? You should relax. Stress is a killer you know. What does this button do?
Styles: What did she say..... stress ....... killer .......




Styles: Stop the car!
Victoria: But I'm starting to get good!
Styles: No, you are starting to get fast! That is not the same thing. It's going dark - this is not an appropriate time of day for a driving lesson. We're going home and I'm driving! Swap seats!




Victoria: Fine!




They arrived home in one piece. Vanessa frowned as Styles walked through the door, slower than usual and clutching his chest. He was very pale but still alive. "Good try, Vicky", she whispered as her daughter marched up the stairs to her room.

And so the baton passed back to Vanessa. She was going to have to improvise.

Vanessa: Darling, come up here!
Styles: Er, OK.

*Thwack!*

Styles: Arrrgh, what's happening!
Vanessa: Just a little playful pillow fight, dear!

Vanessa whacked him again and again with the pillow, while Styles giggled helplessly.

Vanessa: What. Is. So. Funny?

She rushed at him and tried to smother him with the pillow but Styles just giggled and pushed her away. I should have put a brick in the pillowcase, Vanessa realised, too late.




Vanessa: Oh this is ridiculous!
Styles: That was fun!




The Unwitting Accomplice

The next day the late summer festival came to town. Vanessa and Victoria headed to the park, leaving Styles at home to look after Veronica the toxic poop machine.

Victoria: Why you are wearing that outfit, Mum?
Vanessa: For tennis?
Victoria: Nope, no tennis, just football.
Vanessa: Oh. Hey look, there's Caspin!




They played football for a while, with Vanessa performing quite well for someone in such a recklessly short dress and Caspin displaying the kind of goalkeeping skills that could easily earn her a place in the first team at Marine.




Vanessa: So, Caspin, Vicky tells me you are always coming into the bookshop to buy more murder mysteries. And I thought she was a fan!
Caspin: Oh yes, I love them. They are my guilty pleasure!




Vanessa: Great! And have you read any good plots recently? Any surprising deaths in a suburban setting? Tales of domestic disaster? Simple solutions to silencing a spouse?




Caspin: Oh - yeah! Actually I did read quite a good one last week....
Vanessa: Tell me all of the details while Vicky writes notes and draws a schematic diagram.
Caspin: Erm, OK.




Victoria: This could work. This could totally work!




(Could you look a bit more evil and gleeful?)

Back home, Styles was puzzled when a van from the garden centre pulled up, delivering a large number of small trees, which Vanessa planted in the back yard with great enthusiasm. What is she up to now, he wondered.




Back indoors, Vanessa ramped up her efforts to teach Veronica to walk.

Victoria: What is the point, Mum? She's just a poop-producing horror until her next birthday.
Vanessa: Oh no, dear. She is our Secret Weapon!