“I can’t get that girl out of my mind, Other Edward. It reminds me of that one up in, where was it, Broadchurch.”
“Broadwater?” corrected Other Edward, wishing the other Other Edward would chip in and at least dry the dishes he was washing. One f-ing plate at a time, since they dare not go to the store and buy a dishwasher. Might be spotted.
“Yeah, that’s it. Without the pigtails this time of course, but…”
“I saw it too,” admitted Other Edward, who was actually the only Edward here despite the name playing. He: Edward. Him: Eddie. And a change in the last name as well to help disguise. Edward Daigle and Eddie D’Aigle, then. Or “D’Aigle, Eddie” as he also jokingly liked to call himself now and then.
“Welll? Could it be?”
“Impossible,” waved off Edward at the sink. Tough stain on this one; he’ll have to cool it with the curry, he reminds himself. If it’s doing this to the dishes imagine what it’s doing to the inner piping. Bloody mess in there, he supposes, given all those kind of meals he’s woofed down over the years. “I saw her in the news just the other week,” he continued. “Mayor was opening a new strip mall in Kuradov.”
“I bet he was,” quipped Eddie, taking a sip of his coffee and contemplating what to say next. He’d gotten the sex wrong but he’d made his point. “We have to get an old photo somewhere — remove the pigtails; just to be sure.”
“We burned them all,” reminded Edward. “Evidence.”
“Right right.” Eddie hung his head. “I can’t even remember her name now, Edward. But you know I’m bad on names. That’s why, heh, I just call you Other Edward all the time.”
“I know you’re not,” replies his cousin who was now disguised as a lover, as in gay partner. They even had to kiss in public the other day for demonstration. His own cousin (!). And then that other time… but he doesn’t even like to think about it. “It’s Wanda.”
“Wanda, yeah. What kind of car did she drive?”
“I think she just took the mayor’s car most places. Of course, that’s what got us caught in the first place — why we’re on the lam *now*. Two gay lovers instead of two gay cousins. I mean, two *cousins*. No gay.”
“No, since we fell for the same gal and went to that place in Broadchurch [sic] and, right, she left the car outside and then the police chief drove by and then wondered why the mayor was in such a seedy spot in town, *seedier*, and went inside to check. Caught!”
“Like rats,” Edward at the sink reiterated. “The mayor’s daughter.” He scrubbed harder, as if trying to erase the memory from his brain. No go. He had a better one than Eddie. He recalled *everything*.
(to be continued)
Sunklands 