A few hours later, the door to the study opened again. The maid announced, “Miss Caroline Oliverâ€? and a teenage girl walked in. Mrs. Oliver walked to the door, struggling to smooth her hair, which had become wild and frazzled from hands being run through it many times. (Such was the thought process of Ariadne Oliver) She embraced her brother’s daughter warmly.

They spent a few hours together, for it was late in the evening by now, and Mrs. Oliver bid Caroline goodnight. As she was preparing for school the next morning, Caroline called to her aunt, “Aunt Oliver, I must have left my homework at home. Can you take me to get it? It’s dreadfully important; long essay.â€?

Mrs. Oliver groaned. She said, “Dear, can you take a cab? I’ve got a frightful amount of work to do.â€?

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This is the second of a long series of my Ficlets. See the sequels by me for the rest of the story.

Inspired by Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot Novels.