Summary: Edina is in the middle of writing her autobiography when she discovers the house is haunted. Her publisher is on her back about receiving the manuscript on time, so Edina does what any reasonable person would: get an exorcism.
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Ab Fab. Jennifer Saunders is a goddess.
A/N: I've had the idea a long time and I've been watching A LOT of Ab Fab recently, so it only made sense. This is really just an experiment for me to see if I can get in the right mindset to write Ab Fab fanfic. If I can, I'll probably write more.
Saffron sat at the kitchen table, hunched over a worn copy of Pride and Prejudice. Her mother was gone for the day, supposedly to the office, so the house was actually quiet enough for reading. She had managed to get through quite a lot of the book and had convinced herself that she would be able to finish, but her dreams were crushed when she heard a noise on the stairs: the jingling and jangling of the eight necklaces her mother was wearing.
"Saff!" Eddie shouted. "Come help momma! Come help! Help mummy with her computer, sweetie!"
Saffy ignored her.
"Fine! But now you aren't allowed to use it, not even touch it!" Eddie yelled. She pushed the box down the stairs and it stopped on the landing with a crash. "I'm sure it's fine. I paid enough for it, let me tell you. I paid so much I should be able to run it over with a bloody tank and still be able to Google."
Eddie picked up the box then walked over to the kitchen table and set it down. She stared at Saffy for a moment before plucking the book from her daughter's hands. "What is this? Pride and Pre-juice? You don't need books now, sweetie, we've got a state of the art system right here in this box. You don't need books when you have the Interweb, do you?"
Saffy grabbed her book back and hugged it close to her chest. "I don't want anything to do with your new computer, thank you very much."
"It's not just a computer," Eddie chastised. She opened the box. "It's a system, darling. A system. It does a lot more than a computer and it cost tons more, too, let me tell you. It does everything a computer does, sweetie… and more."
"Like what?" Saffy sighed.
Eddie blinked. She pulled a laptop from the box and set it on the table. "Well, just… more. It can… make toast or something, probably, I don't know. But it was very expensive. Don't look at me like that, sweetie! We need this! I need it!"
"And why do you need it?" Saffy asked. "You've already got a computer that you still don't even know how to use properly!"
"This is a system!" Eddie cried. "A system! Get it right! And I do need it, I do. I'll have you know that your mum is an important woman with important things to say - a publisher wants my autobiography, sweetie. The world needs to know about my life."
"You don't even remember most of it."
"Those are the bits I'm making up," Eddie said. She pulled a cigarette from her purse and lit it. "And you'll want to be nice to me while I write, sweetie, or I'll make you look awful… well I suppose I could just include a picture of you and that would say it all, wouldn't it?"
Saffy rolled her eyes. "I've known you all my life and haven't heard you once ever say anything interesting, why on Earth would anyone want you to write an entire book about yourself? What will you title it? Still Fat?"
"I'm a celebrity PR," Eddie said, narrowing her eyes. "I know loads of important people and I am an important person. People want to read about behind the scenes and I'm so far behind the scenes -"
"Wish you'd stay there," Saffy muttered.
"I'm so far behind the scenes," Eddie went on, ignoring her daughter's comment, "I know everything and everyone. OK!, Hello, all the mags, it's all old news to me, darling, because I was there, wasn't I? I'm on the cusp! I'm the cutting edge! Anyway, you wouldn't know a thing about it, sweetie, with that cocoon of dullness wrapped around you. The closest you get to the cutting edge is when you nick yourself with a razor. Whereas, I… I am the all-seeing eye, sweetie!"
"Oh, shut it," Saffy snapped. Finally fed up with her mother, she shook her head and left the kitchen.
Eddie shrugged and dumped the remaining contents of the box onto the table. She examined the different wires, plugs, and accessories closely for a moment. Before she could take any action, Patsy came down the stairs.
"What a terrible day!" Patsy exclaimed. She went and grabbed a bottle of champagne from the fridge.
"Where were you?" Eddie asked.
"Oh, that is terrible," Eddie said and shuddered. She picked up a green wire and stared at it with wide eyes.
"It's not a necklace, it's a… wire… bendy pencil, maybe…" Eddie frowned.
Patsy gestured to the laptop and wires that were crowding the table surface. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm writing my autobiography, obviously," Eddie replied. "I bought this system, very expensive, to write it on."
Patsy looked at the laptop. "Tiny desk."
"Not a desk, it's a laptop," Eddie said. She slapped her thighs. "For my lap. So I can write. On my lap. My autobiography."
"I'm already bored of it and you haven't even written it yet," Patsy said. "Let's go out, sweetie. We can eat somewhere fabulous and then I've got these lovely little pills, no idea what they do, but it'll be fabulous."
"Darling, I can't. I'm on a schedule," Eddie said. "I've already put it off for too long, I must get this done. I can't go out."
"Not even for just one drink? One little drink?" Patsy pleaded. "We'll just go out for one tiny drink and then you can come back and write. One drink. One drink, Eds! It won't kill you!"
Eddie chewed on her bottom lip. "Well… I suppose one little drink won't hurt. Just one drink, but then I must come back and write my book."
"Yeah, yeah, sure, sweetie," Patsy said and nodded.
The Next Morning…
Eddie slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, put her hands over her face and groaned. She parted her fingers so she could examine Saffy's reaction. When she saw none, she groaned again, louder this time. Again she got no reaction from her daughter, so she groaned again even louder.
"You're not getting any sympathy from me," Saffy said as she flipped through the newspaper.
Eddie sighed and let her hands fall to her sides. "It's not my fault, you know, sweetie! I'm merely a pawn in Patsy's game of checkers, darling! Anyway, it was only one drink! I'm a grown woman, aren't I allowed one bloody drink!? It's not as if I went to a club and shoved pills and bottles of Bolli down my throat - no, that is not what happened at all. I only had one drink!"
"One drink?" Saffy said. "That's what you should title your book. I've heard that line enough times from you."
"My book?" Eddie said slowly. Her eyes widened. She looked at the surface of the table and saw that her laptop wasn't there.
Eddie got up and looked under the table then began rushing around the kitchen opening drawers and cupboards. "Darling! Call the police! Call the fuzz! My system is missing! It was here on the table when I left and now it's gone! We've been robbed!"
"It isn't missing," Saffy said. "I got tired of looking at it, so I put it together and put it upstairs."
"Oh, well, thank you, sweetie -"
"You're welc -"
"Thank you for nearly giving your mother a heart attack, sweetie!" Eddie went on dramatically. "You want me dead so badly, don't you, darling? Well, I'm going to write that in my autobiography then I'm going to kill myself, is that what you want? You want to find me dead on my bathroom floor, is that it?"
"No," Saffy said. "I doubt they'd be able to get your fat, bloated corpse out through the doorway."
Eddie pointed at her daughter then stormed from the room. She went to the sitting room, where the laptop was set on the coffee table near the sofa. She sat down in front of the laptop and turned it on. After a few minutes of toying around, she managed to open a word processing program and began typing.
I am gorgeous.
I have always been gorgeous and fabulous.
My name is Edina Monsoon. I was born in London and, luckily for me, my parents were hit by a bus leaving hospital and so I was raised by Judy Garland.
"I am an amazing writer," Eddie said and smiled.
She began to type more about her childhood (mostly lies), but stopped when she heard a noise. Loud clangs and clanks were coming from the walls. She looked around the room with wide eyes, then pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed a number.