My Oh My

Racey days
Help me through the hopeless haze
But my oh my
Tragic eyes...

Isabella collapsed onto one of the numerous battered leather armchairs crowding out Susannah's office, before propping her feet up on the glass coffee table, Susannah immediately slapping her soles with a rolled up Tatler, forcing Isabella's feet floorwards.

"That," Susannah said, indicating the coffee table with the Tatler, "is a family heirloom, I'll have you know."

"That," Isabella echoed, "is an accident just waiting to happen."

"For you, yes," Susannah agreed, "but for the rest of us not so clumsy bi-peds, no."

Isabella closed her eyes, knowing where this was going.

"Only you could secure permission to head to the Amazon in order to locate artifacts that may or not exist," Susannah said, perching on the armrest of Isabella's chair, "especially after that debacle in there with your family and that bizarre baron." She studied Isabella for a moment, reluctant admiration battling with amusement. "I must say though, you rescued the situation admirably," she said with some surprise, remembering Isabella uncharacteristically rising to the occasion, smoothing everything over, "unlike some people I could mention."

"Archie?" Isabella hazarded, daring to open one eye. "His have-a-go hero routine did backfire rather spectacularly." She closed her eyes again, not wanting to relive the memory of Archibald jumping on the mustachioed man's back, trying and failing to bring him down with a chokehold, her stepmother trussed up like a fish in a net, her father circling the scene, fists raised, making him resemble an aging Rocky. It had cost Isabella everything to turn the tide in her favour, restoring the Meeting to a modicum of order with wit and charm, achieving all that she'd envisioned.

"I've given Archibald the rest of the week off to recover," Susannah said tiredly, "though I still can't explain how he ended up dangling from that light fitting by his underpants."

"Magic?"

"Who knows?" Susannah said, running a hand down the side of her face. "But that baron has disappeared into thin air - or so security says."

Isabella just wrapped her arms around her head, unable to exult over her victory, still feeling like a failure.

"Does Achraf know you're now going to the Amazon?" Susannah asked, making Isabella finally open both eyes, raising her head again as Susannah spoke.

"No," Isabella said evasively, "but he will."

"Has he at least been aware of you going to the Amazon at some point?"

"N-o-t exactly," Isabella said wincing, "ya see, we're tryin' to plan two weddin's" -

- "Why two?" Susannah asked, confused. "I was of the mind there's only usually one."

Isabella bit her lip, struggling to keep her Southern accent under control before it became impossible to understand. "We're going to have a traditional Church of Scotland wedding," she explained, confusing Susannah further, "but Achraf's family would like us to have a traditional Lebanese ceremony as well, so we thought we'd do both, y'know, keep everyone happy."

"So where does disappearing off to the Amazon fit into all this wedding planning?"

"I thought I'd shoehorn it in," Isabella said weakly, "somehow..."

"You should have told Achraf about the Amazon long before now," Susannah said reprovingly.

"I know, and I will," Isabella said, sinking down into her seat, "but I just kept putting it off. I mean, he knows about the exhibition, but not the part about me going to the Amazon and trying to find treasure."

"Well, you're certainly stuck up a creek without a paddle," Susannah said, exhaling sharply, "what with assuring them Upstairs that the British Museum will continue to receive governmental funding, from a budget you have no control over, based on the discovery of something we don't know actually exists."

"I know," Isabella whined, "I've really gone and done it now."

"Just make sure you don't come back empty-handed," Susannah tried and failed to say encouragingly, "or we're all screwed."