The plot thickens

"The mystery of the Purple Amaryllis" 

(Or "how we've been duped by cunning Dutch flower sellers")

by

Siobhan Brennan

Chapter Three

(Well, you've already read chapters one and two, remember -  Chapter one, we planted them, Chapter two, one was pink!)

"The plot thickens"

Deirdre awake to a lovely sunny morning in Cork.  And, as it was Saturday, she stayed in bed for a whole extra minute.  After the minute was up, she got up and wondered what she would do for the day.  I know, she exclaimed, so loudly it stopped Vincent snoring for a second, I'll check on my Amaryllis to see if the bud that was on it last night has flowered.  

She ran excitedly out of the bedroom, skipped down the stairs, ran across the hall, bounded into the kitchen, clicked her heels together, spun around three times and she was... eh... still in her kitchen!   She opened the curtains, and there it was, in all its glory, face turned to the sun that was streaming in through the back door lighting up the kitchen, the so longed for flower of the Amaryllis.  (If this was a movie, the next bit would be in slow motion).  Her hands flew to her face, she gasped in amazement, she couldn't believe her eyes, (well she couldn't actually, because she didn't have her glasses on) she had never seen anything so, so, so.... Pink!

She sank into a chair (eh... how do you sink into a chair?  I've never really understood that phrase).  Oh no, she cried, but not loudly enough this time to stop Vincent snoring, it's all gone horribly wrong....

Meanwhile, in another part of town (or another part of the country to be precise), Siobhan was also waking up on that sunny Saturday morning.  She looked at her bedside clock, it said (well it didn't actually speak!) 8.15.  She too thought she would stay in bed for another minute.  One hour later, she eventually got up and promptly fell over Rusty, who had been waiting beside her bed, patiently, since the clock went off.   What will I do for the day she wondered, after I let Rusty out that is!  I know, she exclaimed, so loudly that Rusty flew for cover, I'll check to see if there are any e-mails for me.

So, she ran excitedly out of the bedroom, skipped down the stairs, ran across the hall, bounded into the kitchen, clicked her heels together, spun around three times and she was... eh... still in her kitchen!   (If that last sentence seems familiar, it's because I copied and pasted it from the paragraph above.  I did that so that I wouldn't have to think of something else to write.  The only difference is that Rusty was with me and thought it was a great game, and also, my house is completely different to Deirdre's and I can't actually run across the hall as my stairs finish up in the sitting room....).  Then, after searching for the keys, that were in the door all along, she finally let Rusty out to do some eagerly awaited barking, and whatever else dogs do when you let them out in the morning!  Siobhan did have to walk along by the dining room table where her Amaryllis plant is sitting, but she didn't even glance at it....

Back in Cork,  Deirdre took a picture.  In fact, she took two pictures.  And then she e-mailed them to Siobhan.

Siobhan drank her coffee while she waited for the computer to boot up.  Finally, she had access to her e-mails.  Ah, here is one from Deirdre, what news has she got for me today, she wondered?  She opened it.  Her hands flew to her face,she gasped in amazement, she couldn't believe her eyes even tho' she was actually wearing her glasses, she had never seen anything so, so, so (yes, OK, I stole that sentence from above too, but it did actually happen like that)... Pink!!

So that's two out of three.

She put down her coffee, walked round to the dining room table, and looked at her own Amaryllis plant.  Yes it was still there, and yes it had grown, but no, there was no flower, and on top of all that there wasn't even a bud.   Siobhan had definitely lost the 'first to produce a flower' race.

But could there still be a happy ending to this sorry tale?  Could Siobhan's miserable plant turn the race around and get a bud which would actually turn into a purple/blue flower?  And because this isn't a movie, or a fictional book, it's hardly likely at this stage.  But she will live in hope (and maybe buy some dye from the hardware store!).

Never mind, Deirdre and Siobhan still have the tulip bulbs to look forward too.  They bought two bags of 50, mixed colours and varieties and are going to share them with their Mother.  So, they can all look forward to a very colourful garden next February/March.  

But Siobhan is not letting this go, she is back on her computer, (and if this was a movie, this part would be in fast motion and you would see Siobhan's fingers flying over the keyboard) furiously writing a strongly worded letter to the Dutch Flower Sellers Association.

Her face is purple with rage and she is using purple ink...