Read Online Antiques Fruitcake by Barbara Allan - Free Book Online Page B

. . but it’s always best to begin an interview with a complete sentence. Such as “Why were you and your daughter chosen from among the many ‘wannabes’ for a reality TV show?”
    SS: Why were you?
    VB: Phillip Dean—a veteran cameraman-turned-producer—thought that the antiques business run by myself, Vivian Borne, V-I-V-I-A-N B-O-R-N-E and Brandy Borne, B-R-A-N-D-Y, Borne again . . . no religious connotation intended . . . would make a perfect series because—
    SS: I heard the show was called Antique Sleuths .
    VB: Dear, it’s not polite to interrupt. If you want to be a responsible member of the Fourth Estate, you must—
    SS: Fourth what?
    VB: —pose your questions in the form of a question.
    SS: That was a question.
    VB: The name of the show is Antiques Sleuths , in the plural, not Antique Sleuths . You do perceive the difference?
    SS: Now you’re asking the questions.
    VB: ( sighs ) Yes, because it has become clear that I need to commandeer this interview, if anything of substance is to be conveyed.
    SS: Go for it.
    VB: The concept of the show is that a mother and daughter, who have solved numerous mysteries in real life, as amateur sleuths . . . that would be my daughter and myself . . . also solve the mysteries behind various unusual antiques brought by clientele into their, which is to say our, Trash ‘n’ Treasures shop.
    SS: But right now there’s only a pilot. I mean, right now there is only a pilot, right?
    VB: I congratulate you on that recovery. That is correct. Most of the pilot was filmed last week, with a little more footage—“B roll,” they call it in the industry—to be shot this Saturday at a local swap meet. The finished product will be shown to several cable TV networks.
    SS: So it’s not a done deal?
    VB: No . . . but we’re hopeful. We have an undeniable advantage, factoring in my considerable history in local theater, not to mention my experiences off-Broadway.
    SS: I’m not to mention that?
    VB: Well, certainly you may mention it. Why would you not? Next question.
    SS: You’ve recently moved your antiques business to a house where two murders took place. Isn’t that creepy?
    VB: Dear, I don’t think the demise of those poor victims—murders separated by many years, both of which we solved, by the way—need be referred to as “creepy.” Let us just say it lends a certain resonance to the undertaking.
    SS: So does “undertaking.” Sounds like you’re capitalizing on the infamous notoriety of the house. I mean, are you capitalizing on—
    VB: Certainly not! It just happened to be vacant when we were looking for an appropriate venue for our expanded business, and the prospective television show. We would not think of tastelessly exploiting the tragic history of that structure.
    SS: Then why does your Web site say, “Come and visit us at the Murder House”?
    VB: Does it? Well, that’s a minor lapse on the part of our web designer. I’ll give him a real talking-to.
    Â 
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    Had enough? I have! But I do think Mother came off better than the interviewer.
    Where we were? Ah yes—Saturday morning, and Mother and I were getting ready to open for business at the Murder House—a designation that was not our doing, a local nickname dating back to the axing of the patriarchal owner some sixty years ago, and a copycat killing last year, about which I won’t go into, for those among you who haven’t (as yet) read Antiques Chop .
    Maybe it was my mildly mind-altering Prozac, or possibly a numbness that’s set in due to the number of murders Mother and I have solved since my homecoming two years ago, but I’ve come to like that historically homicidal house, perfect as it was for our expanded business.
    The large two-story white clapboard with wide front porch and modest lawn was situated downtown just after commercial Main Street begins its rise