Underground Rivers by Mike French Page A

codes and conversations revolving around yachts, golf and parties. The zesty smell of ripe lemons and tomatoes welcomed Aunt Scarlet. This was her heaven, but for Sylvia, it was just another place in another time. She never made time to go out; our heroine did not make time for anyone at all. So sitting with her aunt was one of the rarest moments she would soon love to forget.
    â€œSo how is the speed dating going?” Scarlet asked slyly.
    Sylvia glanced at the skeletal waitress in a monochrome striped apron, “One hot black coffee, no sugar and for starters the Poivrons Marinés à l’Huile d’Olive” (Sweet Peppers in Olive Oil). She faced her aunt, “Pretty pear shaped. Cee’s got this stupid idea in her head that I need to get hitched before ‘all the good blokes are gone’. I mean what does that mean anyway?”
    â€œDo you want me to have a word with Cynthia?”
    Sylvia rolled her eyes, “What good would that do anyway? She’ll totally ignore you and say ‘it’s none of your business, blab blah blah’ and ‘I’m looking out for my sister’ and ‘you have got no say in the matter’.”
    Scarlet pouted, “Sylvia darling, I get the picture. How are the young bachelors like?”
    Her nose twitched, “Washed up miscreants with one agenda; good shag with anything that has a pulse.”
    The unfortunate few near Sylvia were astounded at her blunt tone. Scarlet was of course embarrassed, even though she should be used to her niece’s harsh and vocal opinions.
    â€œNow, Sylvia - don’t be so rude. I’m sure most bachelors are not like that.”
    Her neat eyebrows rose in shock, “You want to bet? And on top of that they’ve all got their beady eyes on my fortune.” The waitress returned with the order and Sylvia thanked her. “I’m so rich and famous; it’s hard to believe I will find someone who would actually love me for who I am.” Her aunt gazed at her, “You know my inner self ... per-son-ality.”
    â€œSylvia darling, no offence but your manners don’t come from a pleasant nature.”
    She placed her coffee mug on the table, “Well what does THAT mean?”
    Scarlet darted her eyes around, clasping her hands under the table. She had to pick her words wisely, “Well you seem rather brash and insensitive to others people’s feelings.” Oh too late, she pressed Sylvia’s anger button. “This is all because of that bastard Russell Henderson. If I get my claws on-”
    â€œScarlet, could you please try not to bring that sinner into this. He has nothing to do-”
    â€œMy dear, he has everything to do with how you have come to be this ... thing. Oh, you used to be so happy with life and now you’re just so serious and scary all the time.”
    Sylvia’s eyes of stone sliced into her aunt. She gulped her black coffee down her throat and left a tip for the waitress. “Aunt, I don’t have time for your bloody lectures about how I have come to be this THING.” She stood, placing her black bag on her left shoulder. “I have a shopping mall to sort out and you’re not helping me at all.”
    Scarlet stood pleading, “Oh come now, darling. I didn’t-”
    â€œWhat - mean it?” She retorted. “Aunt you’re so bloody predictable. Just back off and let me do what I want to do.” She paused. “If a man can’t love me for who I am then he isn’t worth it at all because let’s face it - I’m as good as it gets and I will not change to fit somebody else’s idea of perfection. If he doesn’t like me then he knows where the door is.”

Betty’s Story
    by Bernice Gayle
    She was in her element when standing in front of the piercing eagle eyed children as they visually followed her around the classroom. With beautiful dreadlocks, sharp, unwavering eye contact she