Velma is just one of those friends. You know…the ones you have to pretend to like, even though there really isn’t much to like. The moment she came through the door she was ordering our butler around like she was back in her own mansion. Preston took it well, but as a former knife throwing champion I’d like to see what he’d do if Velma ever pushed him too far. Oh, and then she goes on and on about her thirteenth bathroom, just because she recently had it installed and has to let everyone know about it. Just smile, Percy says. Our families have important business connections, he says. It’s all I can do to take that priceless Ming vase off the wall and smash it over her bleach-blonde head.
Of course, she has to go on and on about what her daughter is up to. Prunella is only twelve and she has a PhD! She teaches origami to homeless people! That dry needling course was the newest development. Apparently they’ve started up in Melbourne, and since it’s new and flashy, Velma just had to get her daughter to be an expert at that too. What’s the use, anyway? Prunella is being groomed for a life as a socialite, so getting her to learn about dry needling or whatever it is? All a waste. Oh, maybe she can can go a party in ten years and talk about it with a group of businesspeople, but otherwise, it’s not something I’d ever let Madeira do.
But dry needling is all new and special, so it has to be added to Prunella’s growing list of activities. Just for something else Velma can talk about, for sure. Madeira is tending to her own ant farm now. Did I get a chance to mention it? Of course not, even if I’d wanted to, which I do not because it’s very unladylike. I might make an exception for those dry needling courses in Melbourne, since it all sounds a bit more dainty…but that’s Madeira. Lovely girl, but she doesn’t give me much to boast about.