"You cannot put that candlestick there!" Amy shouted from the door. "The feng shui is all wrong!"
Sam paused, then lifted the brass candlestick from the mantelpiece. "But it goes perfectly here." She stood back and gestured at the decor: a black cast-iron fireplace against a white-painted wall. "It'll add light to this corner of the room and draw the eye towards it. That's what the client wanted."
Amy crossed the floor and snatched the candlestick from her partner's hand. "I know what the client said. But that doesn't mean that we have to follow their wishes slavishly. If somebody said they wanted lime green carpeting, what would you tell them?"
"I'd tell them that they had no taste and that it would make them a laughing stock."
"Exactly!" Amy slammed the brass ornament onto a low, pine table. "There," she said. "That's where that should go."
Sam sighed. "Alright. If that's what your woo-woo tells you to do, then I'll go along with it."
"Woo?"
"Yes. Woo."
Amy's expression turned indignant. "My 'woo'," she mimed air-quotes, "has brought us in more customers than your degree in interior design has. People believe in feng shui."
"And kids believe in the tooth fairy. The difference is that kids grow out of that, while our clients are either stupid or too up themselves to admit they're wrong."
"Yes? Well - what about your colour therapy charts? At least feng shui has a history behind it!"
"Which just makes it ancient woo-woo," Sam snarled. She grabbed the candlestick from the table and, turning her back on Amy, stalked back towards the mantelpiece.
"Don't you dare - !" Enraged, Amy threw herself at Sam, hitting her hard. There was a flurry of limbs and the pair hit the ground, with Sam on the bottom. Amy pulled the candlestick from her friend's hand and stood up. "There. Now I'll put this where it needs to go. Any objections now?"
There was no response.
Amy stared at the lifeless body of her partner as it lay on the floor, a pool of carmine spreading across the white carpet. She knew that she had to do something, but she had no idea what. Then it came to her. Amy bent down and dragged Sam's body across the floor, to the other side of the room, where she rearranged the limbs so that Sam was lying flat, her legs together and her hands modestly arranged on her lap. Then Amy stood back and surveyed the room.
"Perfect," Amy said. "Absolutely perfect."
