The effects of the diet soon began to tell on Bunty; she had lost an incredible amount of weight on the yoghurt and grapefruit and had discovered that exercise and starvation combined gave one quite a natural, if giddy, high.
However, when she arrived at breakfast to be greeted with a glass of hot water and lemon juice, all the windows in the clinic imploded causing an immense amount of damage to the property and the residents, who were for the most part bandaged, but the staff were in a terrible state and many had to undergo emergency surgery.
Professor Dorking had expected an explosive reaction, but nothing quite so literal.
To the delight of Lulu, Lola had disappeared; her room had been cleaned out and she had not even left a note to Bunty, who she was about to tell, just before the shards of glass rained down.
She had no idea about the adventures in the Urals, or she might have thought twice.
Hereward had put Lola under very heavy sedation and had her placed in one of the coffins with a few air holes in as an after thought. He placed himself in his own coffin and arranged to have them shipped to Transylvestite, not realising that Lola had transformed the castle into a boutique gothic hotel.
There were now only two people left alive who knew about the effects of separation on Lola and Bunty; the many years they had spent apart had little effect because they had been hypnotised into forgetting the past, but now that memories were resurfacing things could get very dangerous.
Miss Honeycake had no notion as to what was going on in Europe, and had other things on her mind.
Branwell was their only hope and Bunty had neglected to tell him of her plans to travel until she sent him a post card from Paris.
Things on the estate were going well; the restoration of Ricketts was on target and the prize winning roses were up to standard that year.
When he received the post card Branwell scratched his head for a moment, then he remembered the patient at Appen and Bingo’s warning to never let Miss Bunty know, and that the patient was dangerous.
“Now who was it and why did I promise that?”
He looked at the word “Mummy” on the post card.
“Oh my lord! I was never to let her meet Bunty because she’s a crazed killer who blamed Bunty for loosing her figure and vowed to lure her into a false sense of security then kill her with an ironic combination of diet and exercise!”
Branwell had to sit down after that, but when he had recovered his senses he took the post card and ran to the nearest branch of Thomas Cook to book passage to Switzerland.
Lola awoke with a worse headache than usual, and tried to turn over-then she tried to scream as she realised she had been buried alive-but she couldn’t because she had also been gagged.