SCENT OF TRICKERY


Pisces

Scorpio

Capricorn

“Who are the flowers for? Oh, for Suzie, of course – aren’t they always?”.

With her pulse beating too fast, Suzie took the flowers that Carol had snatched from the delivery boy and buried her face in them, breathing in their heady – what now seemed poisonous – scent.

The card with the bouquet was, as ever, “From Jamie, love always.” She should have been so happy, except that she knew there was no Jamie.
Yes, Suzie, a romantic Pisces, had invented him to keep up with her bold, sexy, Scorpio flatmate Carol.

Carol was always out on the town with one of her men. Right now the favourite was Steve who was (Carol said) besotted with her. 

Suzie, left at home, new to London, had time, too much time, to invent a boyfriend who she could talk about. To make him more real, Suzie ordered a bunch of flowers to be delivered to her every Friday.

For three months, the flowers had kept coming but, this week they had come every day. Her invented boyfriend had become a menacing monster.
“Had you fooled,” cackled Carol, as she sat on the sofa with Steve. “I had a peek at your credit card statement and saw all those payments you made to send flowers to yourself every week …

Suzie ran out of the flat, didn’t stop until she got to the park, and there, sitting on a bench, wept for hurt and shame. 

Then someone sat down beside her and Steve had his arm round her. “That was a despicable trick to play on a beautiful person like you,” he said.

Then they both felt, she with her gentle Pisces soul, he a strong supportive Capricorn, the magical recognition of true soulmates that promises a lifetime of devotion. Just a coincidence, perhaps, that his middle name was Jamie.