Xalia Squalor; because sometimes being in is not enough

Very Fancy Delights

I slam the front door shut and sigh. I'm not hungry, so I'm able to stay home while every one else goes out to eat. The house is quiet, and I finally feel like I'm at peace. I haven't since mum explained the plan, and after talking to the Baudelaires, I feel worse about it all. Mum wants to do it though, and Mum wouldn't put me in danger. She knows what she is doing. I walk through the house, groaning every time I reach a new room. The phone rings, and I sprint to the living room, and dive to the sofa. I pick up the phone and say, "Xalia May Squalor speaking. How may I help you?"
"Xalia May!" My agent says, her voice thick with urgency, "Xalia May. Are you home alone?"
"Hi Miss Scieszka," I sigh, "I am. Can I help you, or should I wait for my mother before giving you a call?"
"Xalia, I need you to answer these questions truthfully," Jacqueline says, "Are the Baudelaires going to be at your house?"
I pause, "Yes, Jacqueline, they will be."
"Are you definitely home alone?"
"I should be," I scoff, "What is the point in these questions?"
"Where is your mother?"
"Only at one of the innest food places in the city," I laugh, "I don't know the name, but its some place that does salmon, and only salmon. Why? You have to answer my questions."
Jacqueline instructs, "Go and call me off of the phone in your bedroom."
"Miss Scieszka?" I ask, "Can you answer my questions? Why are you asking me all of this?"
"The quality in your bedroom is much better, and it wont be me on the phone," The phone is hung up, and I storm to my bedroom. Nobody listens to me anymore. I want to sit in my bedroom and paint my nails, not be sat on the phone to some random idiot. The phone rings, and I sit on my bed to answer it. I sigh, "Xalia May Squalor speaking. How may I help you?"
A woman's voice fills the phone, "Hi darling, my name is Kit Snicket. I'm here with a magazine that want to know all about your life as the cities sixth most important financial advisor's daughter. Our readers think your life is full of very fancy delights."
"Your readers aren't wrong!" I laugh, "Listen close to all my answers, Kit Snicket, and I've got everything you would want to know. What's your first question?"
Kit Snicket asks, "Do you know about anything In being sold at the In Auction tomorrow?"
"I do!" I squeal, "Okay, listen up. A spoon with googly eyes is being sold for one of the things. A huge box with VFD and air holes will be sold. I imagine, well, about two people could fit in it. Then a beautiful red herring statue will be sold, and a poster of Count Olaf will be sold. It's a signed copy, so Ola- Gunther imagines it'll sell really well. That's the main stuff I know."
"Wow," the sound of typing echoes through the phone, "That's interesting. Will you be helping with it?"
I sigh, "No, unfortunately not. Mum says I should wait in the car, because she wants me to get the first choice of seat. Why?"
"Our readers want to come see you," Kit sounds bored, "How long have you been home alone for?"
"Maybe an hour?" I look over at a clock, "Hour and a half. Why does that matter?"
"I understand you are probably confused," Kit says, "Xalia May, you should stay in your bedroom until your mother comes back. We don't want you to get lost in your penthouse. There is a lot of room for children to get lost, or hide."

I pause. This feels a lot like when those people came over to speak to mum, but she refused to let them in. It was right after the Baudelaire home had been burned to the ground. I say, "Miss Snicket? Kit Snicket? Do you know my mother?"
"Of course I do," Kit scoffs, "Esme Gigi Genevieve Squalor used to be close friends. She used to put far too much sugar in her tea... that's not important. Just please don't leave your bedroom until your mother arrives. Wait for her to come knock on your bedroom door. She does that every time she arrives home, doesn't she?"
"Yeah, how do you know all of this?" I ask. The phone hands up and I pause. Mum should know about this. Slowly, I dial mum's phone number and say, "Mum? Hello?"
"Xalia May?" Mum laughs, "We're on our way home. What's the matter, darling?"
"A woman called," I whisper, "Jacqueline called, and then another different woman did. Her name was Kit?"
"What was her last name?" Mum asks, urgency pressing in her voice. I hesitate, before muttering, "I think it was Kit Snicket. Yeah, it was. Mum, she was asking me questions about if I was home alone and what was going to be sold in the auction."
"What did you tell her?" Mum gasps. I cry, "The truth? Mum, she said she was with a magazine. Who is she mum?"
"Did you tell her about me? The Quagmires?" Olaf's voice fills the phone, "Did she sound sad? Happy? Was she okay?"
I say, "No, I didn't tell her about you or the Quagmire orphans. She sounded worried, and like she had to know all the information. I did do what I was told."
"What have you been told to do?" Olaf asks. I explain, "Mum said to listen out for key phrases, one of those being anything with the initials VFD. I heard her say very fancy delights, so I mentioned the box you'll be selling with air holes. I said it could probably fit, what, two people? And then straight after I mentioned the red herring. Mum told me to do that."
"Esme?" Olaf asks, his voice quieter, "Esme told you to do that?"
"Yeah, unless you count Jerome as a woman?" I snap. Olaf groans and sighs, "We'll be back sooner than planned. Jerome is out cold. Open the doors for us."
He hangs up the phone and I groan. I'm not his servant.