Suicide Blonde - Chapter 5 - The Return of The Tasteless Advertisement

"So how do you want to do this?" Mitchell looked disapprovingly at Poppy.

Unable to believe that she had ever suggested it in the first place, she looked at Mitchell through the haze of cigarette smoke between them.

"We could make this all a little game?" Mitchell took a sip of his cocktail and looked at her menacingly. Was he serious?

"What do you propose?" she asked.

Mitchell left silence to bite at the room for a few moments before speaking again; and when he did, it was in the most peculiar manner Poppy had ever heard.

"Arabella has a weakness, I know what it is, and I'm surprised you haven't realised yet, after all, you were the one who told me about it in the first place. You've literally had the message stuck to your forehead," Mitchell chuckled.

Poppy narrowed her eyes at him. He was talking in riddles. She thought about what he'd said for a few minutes, but it didn't seem any clearer.

"I don't understand," Poppy shook her head.

"You're too innocent. Don't you remember the night from the phone box?"

"The tasteless advertisement that attached itself to my forehead. Is that what you mean?" Poppy enquired. Mitchell nodded.
"What about it?" she couldn't remember anything remarkable about it, aside from the how annoying it had been at the time.

"It's my advert. It's from my production line, but I didn't model for it. The question is, who did?" With a wink, Mitchell got to his feet to fetch more alcohol from the cabinet at the opposite side of the room.

The sleazy looking blonde in the advert. She did look familiar. "No. It couldn't be."

"Couldn't it?" Mitchell raised an eyebrow at her doubtfully.

"Arabella! Arabella is one of your employees?"

Poppy felt slightly foolish for having taken so long to work out the answer in the first place.

"How long has she been working for you?"

"About a year."

An idea suddenly struck Poppy: "Does Will know?" What would he think about it if he did? What would happen to their relationship if he didn't? Poppy didn't think he would be keen on the idea of being in a loving relationship with someone who worked in the line of employment Mitchell's business catered for.

"No. He isn't aware. Yet," Mitchell replied.

Poppy's eyes widened at the excited prospect of revealing such a scandal to William. He would hate the idea of such openly sexualised behaviour. Wouldn't he? After all the recent drama, Poppy wasn't completely certain. Maybe he would accept Arabella regardless of what she had done? And if he did, that didn't leave Poppy with much hope in taking him back. I bet she can get away with anything, Poppy thought. Although, she knew the opposite would have been true for herself.

"And are we going to make him aware?"

"Well that was the general scope of the idea," Mitchell spoke between taking swigs of his third cocktail.

"How?" Poppy asked incredulously.

Mitchell set down his glass at this and looked at her with such fresh anticipation, as if he had been waiting for her to ask him this question the entire evening; and now that she finally had, they could get down to business.

"You and Arabella are not dissimilar... in looks at least. It's not difficult to detect what Will's type is. So, we are going to use that knowledge to our advantage," Mitchell explained. For some reason, Poppy felt as though he had rehearsed this. Almost to make it sound like some grand speech from a film. At that thought, Poppy couldn't tell whether she was the heroine or the villain. If this was the theatre (like she was used to) she would have been used to play the principal saviour. But now, she wasn't so sure.

"How would you feel about sacrificing a little bit of your dignity?" Mitchell disappeared behind the cabinet; and reappeared moments later from a crouching position, brandishing a small, red object.

At a distance, Poppy couldn't work out what it was, but as he came closer, he held the object in his hands, up to her face to show her. A sparkly, red thong.

"What's this for?" Poppy asked, horrified at the vulgarity of the gesture.

"Well, Arabella's tasks aren't just limited to the telephone. Meet me at the Goldong Lion tonight. Eight o' clock. And don't worry, I'll see to it that Will's invited." Mitchell handed the thong to Poppy and invited her to examine the rest of his costume collection he kept in one of the spare bedrooms; before he departed to make the evening's arrangements. Leaving Poppy thoroughly bemused by what she had gotten herself involved with.