A belated answer to the daily prompt Unexpected Guests:
Not sure where it came from LOL
That day hadn’t gone according to plan and she was in a bad mood. She was supposed to finish and deliver the translation of the documents relating to the biggest merger of the company’s history and the printer died on her. She had to run to the local printing store. And because life has a way of flipping you the finger the document came out in a completely messed up format. She had to redo it all twice before they were capable of printing it properly. By then she was almost late… and she hated it.
And then to top it all, one of her colleagues had emptied – quite literally – a cup of coffee on her shirt and jacket moments before her making a presentation during a meeting making her look messy at best, unprofessional at worst.
So when she entered her apartment, smelling of coffee – a drink she loathed – looking like she didn’t have a grip and faced two strangers blithely sitting on her sofa as if they belonged here and eating a slice of *her* birthday cake, she was less then pleased, and even less friendly. This despite the fact that the woman looked at her with a beatific smile on her face.
“Oh you’re beautiful.” She said with an accent that was definitely from the UK but where exactly she didn’t know. She’d never been there despite her parents frequent trips.
“Who are you?” She asked pulling her phone out of her purse ready to call the police. “What the hell are you doing here?”
They looked puzzled for a second; she sounded quite aggressive but who would blame her really? She had a crappy day after all. She dialled 9-1-1 ready to click on call. “You’d better answer fast.”
Suddenly the woman sputtered. “The landlord let us in.”
She pressed the button ‘call’ even as she answered “There’s no landlord, this flat’s mine. Let’s try that again.”
Unsettled the man stood and she stepped back keeping her eyes on him.
“Look we’re your parents.”
“Wrong answer. My parents…” she pointed with a free hand to the shelf over the TV where a picture of her parents stood, framed in dark wood. “…are in London. Hi yes miss. Can you send a car? I have two people in my flat and…
“No wait, we’re your real parents.”
“… I think they are quite deranged. Yes. Armed? No, unless you count my silver cake server as a weapon.” She took another step back; who could have known even cake server could be used to kill? She hadn’t. “No I’m not leaving my house; what if they steal something? Kill me? That would just make my bad day worse really. The concierge? Yes sure. But hurry please.” She hung up and dialled the concierge’s number. She wasn’t particularly impressed though for one of them had to let these two people in.
“Look Lisa, we are you parents. Truly.” The woman pleaded.
“My name’s Kate.”
“No, your name’s Lisa. Well at least it was supposed to be. That’s the name we chose for our girl. But you and… your parents’ son were exchanged at birth.”
It was so absurd she started laughing.
“Right; I’ve seen that movie. Wait I saw it some fifteen years ago at least. French movie you know? La Vie Est un Long Fleuve Tranquille. Good movie too. Who did it? The nurse because her lover – the OBYG – didn’t leave his wife to spend Christmas day with her?” She could hear the sarcasm lacing her tone. Maybe not a good idea. What if they did have guns on top of her silverware? Or a knife from the kitchen? They had found the cake after all. “Hi Louis, can you or one of your colleagues come up right now? I have two intruders in my flat… No Louis they aren’t my parents. Yes. Come right now. Thank you.”
“Look we are not lying. You were born at the Mother of Mercy Hospital on May 30 1981 at 8pm.”
Ok that was creepy. But if their son was born on the same day, they would not need to search too much for that.. “And you have a birthmark between your shoulder blades.” Ok… “It’s the same as…”
Someone knocked at the door.
“Hold that thought.” She stepped back to the door keeping her eyes on the weird couple and opened the door to Louis and two cops. “Gentlemen, please come in. Here are the… intruders.”
“Lisa please!” The woman suddenly cried jumping to her feet. Her husband lay a comforting hand on her arm as Louis met her gaze. She shrugged.
“Officers,” he said. “This lady’s name is not Lisa. She’s Ms. Kate Sorel.”
Nodding the two policemen cuffed the couple and led them towards the door. As they were ushered out the man turned around.
“It’s true Kate. We had a daughter; she was stolen from us. Ask your parents why they have never brought you with them to the UK? And why you have no other siblings?”
One of the officers turned to her.
“Miss, don’t let this trouble you. With the internet these days one can find anything about anyone. Most likely they’ve hacked your parents’ Facebook account or something. Do you want to press charges?”
“Yes… Maybe. I don’t know. Can I come by the precinct later? I have a presentation to finish for work that must go to my boss tonight.”
“Sure but don’t wait too long. We can’t keep them in more than 24 hours.”
“Fine. I’ll go before that then. Thanks.”
She closed the door behind them… how did they know about the birth mark? Did her parents have a Facebook account? She was not sure. She didn’t have one, no time to take care of it. She’d have to ask. Not now.