Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Crime

And so, even though I didn’t know it at the time, began the next great adventure of the Wraith Wranglers.

Jarrett’s words would soon prove true.

Chapter Three

Sitting in the audience at the Graham Norton Show was quite the experience. We got some of the best seats in the house, right in the front row, where we had a good view of all the action. Deshawn was seated next to talk show host Graham Norton, whose eyes were sparkling with mirth as he interviewed the former butler. Next to Deshawn sat Marisol Glee, the famous singer with the golden pipes. The notoriously volatile diva did not look happy that all the attention was now going to some baking Jeeves.

“So you were an actual butler, were you? Amazing,” said Graham.

“Yes, and now my former employer is my boyfriend,” said Deshawn, a soft-spoken, stocky man.

“I can’t believe this,” said Norton, rubbing his graying beard as he gazed into the camera. “This is like Pretty Woman , people, only much, much better! Hollywood, you have got to turn this man’s story into a movie!”

“Starring Matt Damon,” said Deshawn with a slight smile.

“Oh, why not? And who’s going to play your boyfriend?”

Deshawn glanced into the audience at Jarrett, and said, “Ryan Gosling, of course.”

“Of course,” said Graham. “Matt Damon and Ryan Gosling. I would see that movie! Wouldn’t you see that movie?!”

The audience burst into loud applause.

“Yes, you would, wouldn’t you?” said Graham, also applauding.

And Deshawn? He just sat there, that same small smile on his face.

“I had a butler who baked once,” said Marisol now, with customary affectation. “You wouldn’t believe the things he did for me. It boggled the mind.” She smiled at the camera and adjusted her ultra-tight miniskirt.

“You don’t say,” said Graham, making an effort not to roll his eyes. “Now, Deshawn. Tell me more about The Great British Bake Off . I’m dying to know what you think about Paul Hollywood. Simply scrumptious, isn’t he?”

“He has a very impressive presence,” Deshawn agreed. “Though not as impressive as my boyfriend Jarrett Zephyr-Thornton, of course.”

“Oh, you are an infatuated little birdie, aren’t you?!” Graham exclaimed.

“I had a bird once,” said Marisol with a stiffish smile.

“I’ll bet you did,” said Graham. “What is your favorite pastry, Deshawn?”

“Well, I love a good Bundt cake,” Deshawn admitted.

“You can never have too much Bundt cake,” Graham agreed.

“I ate a Bundt cake once,” Marisol began.

“Of course you did,” Graham said acerbically. “Do you see yourself winning the competition, Deshawn?”

“I’m certainly going to give it my all, Graham.”

Jarrett let out a soft sigh. “Deshawn is handling himself so well, isn’t he? And look how photogenic he is. The cameras simply adore him.”

“I thought you didn’t like all this newfound attention he’s getting?”

“I don’t—but I have to admit he’s crushing it, darling. Simply crushing it.”

And he was. At least until the next guests appeared. Which is when Jarrett lost it.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Graham Norton. “The moment you’ve all been waiting for has finally arrived. Please welcome onto the stage, the one and only… Piquant Pack!”

“Omigod!” cried Jarrett, his hands flying to his face. “Omigod!”

One by one, the members of the legendary nineties girl band walked onstage, announced with thunderous voice by Graham. “Piquant Red, Piquant Blue, Piquant Blond, Piquant Pink and Piquant Black, ladies and gentlemen. Reunited for the first time in twenty years, exclusively on the Graham Norton Show!”

“Omigod, omigod, omigod,” Jarrett was whispering, in total shock.

“Don’t tell me. You were a fan?” I asked.

“Who wasn’t?!”

“Well, since I was only three when they split, I guess I wasn’t.”

“I love them,” he breathed, eyes goggling. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for-ever!”

I watched as the five women walked on stage. I vaguely remembered the band, having heard their songs on the radio over the years, though I wasn’t really familiar with their work. They’d done their hair the same way they used to: Janell Nodding was rocking a flaming red mane, Carrie Dobbins a cool blue, Amaryllis Gutenberg a lustrous blond, Courtney Coppola piquant pink and Perpetua Roman a striking black. Together they were the Piquant Pack, and judging from the roar of the audience, they were as popular now as they were then.

They all took a seat on Graham’s trademark red couches, right next to Marisol Glee, who didn’t look impressed, and Deshawn, whose eyes had a glazed look, and I thought I could see his lips forming ‘Omigod!’

“Don’t tell me. Deshawn is a fan, too?”

“Only the biggest fan in the universe! No. Wait. That’s me!”

“So is it official?” asked Graham. “Is the band getting back together?”

“I don’t know,” said Janell pensively. “Let me have a think.”

“Oh, you tease,” Graham laughed.

Amaryllis leaned in and touched Graham’s knee. “Would you like us to get back together, Graham, darling?”

“Would I?” gushed Graham, mugging for the camera. “Would I?!”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Courtney with a grin.

“Will you tell him, Perpetua?” asked Carrie.

Perpetua nodded stiffly. Outfitted in a form-fitting black dress, she looked more like a model than a singer. Then again, she was the one who’d married the famous soccer player. After a pregnant pause, she said, “It’s a yes, Graham. The Piquant Pack is getting back together.”

“Ooh-wee!” cried a visibly touched Graham. “At last!”

“We’re launching our new single tonight,” Carrie added, “and tomorrow we’re going on tour again!”

Next to me, Jarrett looked like he was about to expire. “Take it easy,” I told him. “It’s just a band.”

“Just a band?!” he cried. “This is the Piquant Pack! The most iconic girl band in the history of the world!”

And then, as if to prove his words, the five women spontaneously launched into an acapella version of their greatest hit Hungry . Their voices sounded great together, and judging from the whimpering sounds from Jarrett, it was a big hit with the audience. For the chorus, they moved to the small stage, and when the music set in, they launched into a full-blown version of the song. It was quite moving, and I actually enjoyed it.

“Hey, they’re pretty good,” I said.

“Of course they’re good,” said Jarrett. “They’re the Piquant Pack.”

Suddenly, the lights went out, and the sound from the speakers dropped away. The now tinny-sounding voices of the five singers continued for a while but then fizzled out.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“All part of the show,” Jarrett assured me. “Just making a big splash.”

But judging from the angry cries from Graham and his crew, this wasn’t part of the plan at all. Then, out of the blue, suddenly flashes of light crackled overhead, as if the roof had opened up and lightning slashed the sky. And then, like a supernatural deity, a booming voice sounded. “To all you silly little sycophants, be forewarned! The Piquant Pack are not what they seem!”

“What’s this?” asked Jarrett.

“All part of the show?”

“I don’t think so,” he said.

And then I saw it. A translucent figure descended from the ceiling. He was large and looked like he was covered in fluorescent paint. And judging from the open-mouthed expression of horror on Graham Norton’s face, this was not part of the plan.