This one has an interesting history.

Firstly, the name Nonni Primrose (pronounced no-ni) belongs to a customer the team and I encountered at our day job. The ‘team’ being the amazing people I am fortunate enough to work with. The name set-off a create spark in our collective consciousnesses, and we immediately started spit-balling ideas about who Nonni Primrose was, and what kind of escapades she might continuously find herself mixed-up in.

My friend Tess wrote the first Nonni Primrose tiny adventure, and taking inspiration from that, as well as the fact that my house-mate, Claire, had decided to go all in on a Google deep-dive on the exotic cat known as the Cerval, I started writing a little Nonni Primrose episode myself. This one actually features Nonni as a secondary character, the main character being the person I envision as Ms. Primrose’s primary antagonist. The only two things I wanted to accomplish with this piece is (a) keep the villain and his motives hidden and (b) give Nonni the W, even if it would only be a short lived win.

Let me know what you think and if you’d like to read more about Nonni Primrose and her mysterious exotic cat-owning adversary.

——————————————————————————————————————–

A single high-pitched cry echoed throughout the small room, eventually followed by a quiet but angry snarl. A man’s voice, calm and measured, responded to the distress, “Patience, Olysseus, Ms. Primrose can have this victory, we have much more important matters to attend to”

The pacing animal came to a standstill by the man’s side, first sitting, then laying down on the ornate rug covering the natural stone floor. It offered a meow of contentment as its small head came to rest on its elegant paws.

What little light there was in the room came courtesy of an embankment of television screens, large enough to cover almost an entire wall. Two of the remaining three walls featured a single brass wall sconce, sizeable enough to holder either a large candle, or wooden torch, should one be available. Neither was in use at present.

The television screens were the only items of technology visible in the room, though the man did have a mobile phone on his person, should he need to contact, or be contacted by, someone in the outside world. If all went to plan, neither of those things would be required.

A variety of scenes played out on the television screens, each screen giving a view of what was happening in a different room or different area of the building; 17 screens for 17 rooms, not including the room presently occupied by the man and his pet Serval. The cameras that fed the images to the screens were so discreet as to be almost impossible to find by even the most single-minded examiner, though there was no doubt in his mind that Nonni Primrose was aware she was being watched.

As the seconds turned to minutes, he attentively watched the deceptively quick, septuagenarian make her way from room to room, expertly navigating the building’s labyrinth-like hallways. His only movements coming when he would reach down to pet his beloved cat.

The man was well-aware that there was nothing he could do prevent Nonni from accomplishing her goal and solving the case for which she was hired, but he was experienced enough to have confidence that this would merely be a minor set-back in the grand scheme of things. Nonni Primrose was a worthy opponent, but even she would be no match for him once everything fell into place.

Of course, he had underestimated Nonni once before, a miscalculation that had cost him a capable underling in Lord Fairfield, but one cannot reasonably expect to suffer zero losses in a game with stakes this high. Next time he was forced to move against Ms. Primrose directly, he would make sure to employee someone whose abilities could be described as much more than capable.

On screen he could see that the elderly investigator had just about reached her objective, she had overcome all the obstacles placed in her way with effortless speed and grace. Olysseus stood to attention, pausing to stretch out, before approaching the televisions. The man too leaned closer to the screens, keen to get a better view of Nonni in action.

“Well played, my dear,” he said, “the Orb of Alacrity is now yours, but it is I who will ultimately be victorious.”

The Serval offered another high-pitched cry.

“Of course, Olysseus.”

To be continued