"Here, grab my bag."
With that, a tall blonde woman tossed a small purse over a high bricked wall, only to hear it drop on the other side. "C'mon, Lucy," Erika sighed, bemoaned, as she heard her friend apologise between giggles. "This was all your idea anyway," she called out to the girls across from her who had decided to gatecrash this party. They did this a lot and they usually got away with it -
usually.This was very different, though. In clubs, it was packed out. The lights were low and bodies were everywhere. If someone wore something non-descript, chances are they'd slip in unnoticed. But this was a stately home in rural England and her friends had officially lost their damned minds.
Placing her toes in the gaps in the high wall, Erika made her way up and over it, dropping down the otherside gracefully to a chorus of whoops and cheers from her friends, which she acknowledged with a sweeping bow and a snort of laughter. "Be quiet or we'll get kicked out." Lucy, Caitlyn, Rosie and Emma were Erika's childhood friends. All born and raised in a small town in Cornwall, they were still close and usually spent most of the summer together. They were all very different. Lucy was vivacious and flirty, Caitlyn was an academic, Rosie's family always worked the land so she liked the outdoors and Emma was a tiny bit crazy. It was nice to be able to reconnect. They were a small piece of home wherever Erika might be.
There was some sort of string music catching on the gardenia scented breeze. There was laughter and chatter that drifted out from the large country estate, people in suits and dresses, champagne flutes in hand. She didn't miss the fleeting glances that were shot her way and she simply brushed some brick dust off her
trousers and offered a beaming grin. It was one of those fancy garden parties that all Americans thought British people had every year. The type with teeny sandwiches and whatever croquet was. To a certain extent it was true but all the summer parties Erika had ever been to soon descended into chaos and she lived for it.
Entering through the gardens was a smart move. The cursebreaker assumed there was someone on the door. This seemed like an invite only kind of deal. It looked very uptight and a bit stuffy but if there was free food, she was in. To make sure she fitted in with high society, she decided to go by a different name that afternoon. Today, she wasn't Erika Trickett. Today, she was Evelyn Beaufort-Mountbatten, the most ridiculous name she could think of. Her nickname was Zippy. Why? Because posh people were bonkers. And it was fun.
It was a gorgeously hot summer's day beneath a bright blue and cloudless sky. The vast gardens were in full bloom and she'd be content to wander until her path was blocked by a heavy-set man in a dark suit that looked uncomfortably tight.
"Could I take your name please, ladies?" he asked, looking at the group with suspicion in his eyes. "Oh, hello," Erika began in a convincing accent that masked the warm lilt of her Cornish one as she stepped forward and to him. "Beaufort-Mountbatten," she announced, her smile bright as the man looked through his paperwork before explaining that she wasn't on the list.
"That's absurd," Erika ploughed on, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she pouted. "My daddy is a Mounbatten, you know,
the Mountbattens," she said in a stage whisper, her bright eyes wide as she hoped the man would clock the wealthyl connection and he did.
"Madam, I am so sorry," he stammered and Erika kindly nodded her head, patting him on the shoulder. "It's absolutely no issue at all," she told him, her voice high pitched and sounding like she was chewing a giant toffee in traditional "it" girl fashion. It was entirely possible he'd tell someone else about her.
"Your secret is safe with me," she winked and the man blushed and gave an unsteady laugh.
"Enjoy the party, miss Mounbatten," he whispered before he toddled off, leaving her to catch her breath. Erika swiftly turned to her friends. "Are you trying to get us booted out?" She hissed before she laughed. "Go and get some drinks and for the love of Merlin, be cool." With that, the girls fell into giggles and swayed up the path to the house, arm in arm, leaving Erika rolling her eyes.
Erika took a left, her strappy heels crunching underfoot as she moved away from the party momentarily and blinking as she found herself in a quiet
space. Erika ducked beneath a heavy swag of scented wisteria, reaching up to brush it out of her way as she walked. The music was softer, muffled almost as though the hedges were keeping her secret. She drew closer to the fountain and tilted her head with a thoughtful frown, stopping on the edge of the water to work out if the man was holding a sheep or a pig or potentially something else entirely.
It was an odd childlike thing to do but whenever Erika saw a statue with water, she treated it as a wishing well. Digging into her pocket, she extracted a coin and quickly flicked it into the fountain, watching it land with a satisfying
sploosh! Something caught her attention in her peripheral vision and she hastily backed up and stepped easily into one of the lush hedgerows, concealing her from view. She held her breath as a young couple walked by, laughing and holding hands, and she exhaled quickly in relief. Great. Evelyn Beaufort-Mountbatten's cover hadn't been blown just yet.
@Harlan Bellamy [
Setting location inspiration - Buscot Park, Oxfordshire]