Before and After (27 page)

“Don’t
struggle, you’ll hurt yourself, see you’re bleeding! Don’t worry Flora. You’ll be safe soon and I’ll get you home for a nice cup of tea,” shoe woman said brightly.

I
called upon all things on my side to avoid that sentence of near death.

I
glanced up at Hal who was seemingly enjoying my predicament. Oh the duplicity of youth!

Archie
was wielding a nasty looking saw and very unprofessionally hacked with it, none too gently, at the floorboards gouging out chunks of splintery wood, trying to free my leg. He looked grimly determined and deeply resigned and kept his eyes firmly diverted way from mine. The sawing of the wood and the barking from Marmaduke was all that could be heard for a while, and for that alone, I was grateful.

With
the final saw of the wood I drew myself up and, hanging on to the wall I limped into my room, slamming the door behind me.

I
feverishly began throwing my belongings into my trunk, as much as my injury would allow, (I don’t mind admitting to you that I was in
agony
, but stoic that I am, no-one would have guessed) slamming the lid down on the black clothes and the jar of marbles. Where to? And how? Go I must. Not like me not to see a job through I know, but really, these circs would try the patience of a lace maker. (A dying profession but truly one that requires far more patience than a mere saint.)

I
always say that I can stand many things, but being unfairly blamed simply is beyond me.
So
unjust.

I
heard Hal start to tell all behind the door and heard Maria sobbing and bemoaning that I had given the gardener some cough medicine. Oh
deep
joy. That was all I needed, now I was to branded a murderer as well!

I
scrabbled through my bag for the card that the taxi driver had given me when I first came here. What was his name? Jake, that was it. I called the number and sank down on the bed, listening to the shocked and horrified voices behind the door. The voices and the mingled barking of Marmaduke were verging on what is commonly called a commotion, I believe.

Well,
I’d faced worse.

Off
hand I couldn’t think when, but I was sure that I had.

It
was the faces, you see. I just couldn’t look at them, and I knew I had to limp past them, like a wounded animal, to get out of here. Well, this was where breeding would out. I thought of my grandmother and took a deep breath. Shoe woman would help me, wouldn’t she? I carefully administered some eye drops and squared my shoulders. After all, I was Flora Tate and if no-one here was going to help me, I had to help myself.

I
did a feverish calculation of the amount left to pay in marbles for a Treatment. If I got out of here now, went to Victoria, sorted her out, gained a trifling agate or two, kept the Ambles away from all and sundry, went to see that silly peasant woman Maria -

“Flora,
there’s a cab here for you,” Bella sounded scared and excited.

I
braced my shoulders, held my head high and as I limped through the door I reminded myself yet again that
none
of this was my fault. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Parsons
and
plugs
and
all
things
horrid
.

And
yet, as I pushed the door open there was a tremendous noise, a sort of sighing and creaking but so loud it seemed to fill my ears with volume. It was as if the house itself was complaining on my behalf.

The
staircase terrifyingly shifted and we all had to cling to whatever walls we could. I thought for one moment an earthquake had hit us, then I reminded myself that we were in St Johns Wood – not Tokyo.

My
god, the subsidence that the little ginger man had been talking about had finally happened. Perhaps he wasn’t so alarmist after all. The house was shifting around us, bits of plaster falling down like plane leaves in autumn, lumps of cornice randomly fell like clumps of heavy snow on a Swiss chalet roof, and banisters twisted.

Everyone
was frozen like so many grown children caught playing musical statues.

As
usual, I resigned myself to taking control.

“Now
everyone, keep calm and listen to me. All will be well, I have a plan.” I shouted above the awful noise of splintering wood and falling masonry. I aimed for a resolute, hopeful but above all, authoritarian tone in my voice, which I
think
I succeeded in. The dust was making it hard to see, but I made sure that I had eye contact with them all. They all turned expectantly to me.

After
all, what other choice did they have?

I
smiled kindly, and under the circs, I think most
forgivingly
at them all. I had to remind myself that it was the least I could do. After all, I was never, ever going to see any of them ever again.

Rule Number Twenty Seven

“
Never
,
ever
,
under
any
circumstances
stoop
so
low
as
to
read
other
peoples
correspondence
.
No
good
will
come
of
it
.
You
have
been
warned
.”

Castle and Fordham

Estate
Agents

Dear
Ms Tate,

I
am enclosing a clipping of the finalised advert which will appear in all the discussed publications for the upcoming auction of the house in St Johns Wood. I apologise for the delay, but the wheels of commerce do grind exceedingly slowly sometimes. After an arduous three months all the paperwork is now in order and we are ready to proceed. The clearing of the rubble after the regrettable incident took a little longer than we had anticipated (how fortunate that no-one was seriously hurt) and the house now embodies the vision that you and John Taylor aspired to. I do so wish that you could view it in person, although I think that the photographs do it justice.

As
we confirmed in our meeting, the reserve price will be one and a half million pounds sterling, but with the interest shown I can confidently expect a much higher price on the day.

I
am sorry that you are unable to attend the auction in person as I so much enjoyed our first meeting. I hope the facial bruising and swelling has subsided somewhat and that you are in less discomfort. A car accident is always a shock to the system and I think you are wise to recuperate at your leisure in Switzerland.

As
instructed by you, we will deposit the money from the auction (less our 10%) in your account no 4426 7830 5725 6978 of the Royal Bank Von Dreadner of Zurich.

Once
again, it was a pleasure doing business with you and best wishes for your speedy recovery.

Your
obedient servant,

Peter
Kingsley.

Director

P.S. I did in fact take up your advice on treating my ulcer with tincture of slippery elm to great effect. Many thanks.

P.P.S.
I have as instructed destroyed (unread) any letters that have been sent to us to forward to you. There have been quite a few but it has been no trouble to us and my secretary, Fiona, says that the paper shredder has become her favourite piece of office machinery! So please don’t trouble yourself on our account.

Royal Bank Von Dreadner

Zurich

My Dear Miss Tate,

How
enchanting to hear from you again! I was worried that your work had kept you away from us for some time now. We have been eagerly anticipating your return.

I
can confirm that a banker’s draft of 2.7 million pounds sterling was deposited in your account yesterday. This brings your balance with us in your current account to the sum of 9.8 million sterling.

The
other matter into which you enquire I have placed in the safe hands of our mining expert, a Monsieur Aubin, who assures me that the removal of Fullers Earth from your other recently acquired property will be undertaken with little problem.

My
salutations to you Miss Tate on yet another successful business transaction. I look forward to a cup of hot chocolate with you and our annual review of your finances,(it is perhaps time for us deal to with the matter of your various savings accounts?). My father was correct in telling me that you were his most honoured customer and I have no hesitation in telling you that in the many, many years we have conducted our business affairs together, you have become one of my most esteemed clients too. I like to think that one day the honour of serving you will be passed on to my son, Jean-Luc, and with that in mind, may I have the honour of presenting him to you at our next meeting?

Your
most obedient servant,

Christophe
Dreadner.

1/31 Tennyson Ave

St
Johns Wood

London

Dear Flora,

This
will be the seventh letter that I’ve posted to you – I have no idea where you are and the maddening bitch of a secretary at that estate agents won’t say one way or another if she is posting these on to you. I’ve also tried e-mailing (but they just bounce back) and every directory enquiries in the world!

Why,
oh why, don’t you call me? I would have loved to have you as a house guest and decorated the spare room in pale apricot and cream in the hope that you still might come. I’ve even put a little electric heater in, as it can get chilly at night time.

You
might think that I am a trifle unhinged, but, oh Flora, I can never forget your kindness in buying me all those super shoes!

We
could have such fun here together and I could cook for you. I am on a low fat diet and have managed to lose three whole pounds in three months – pretty good going I think! And it would be so nice to have someone to share a frozen yoghurt with in the evenings. As well as having someone to go shopping with, oh, there’s so much we could do together! Please do come. Even for a weekend. And please, please write to me. There was so much nonsense in the papers about the house collapsing, you would giggle about it, truly you would! It seems it was a miracle that we weren’t all killed! I ask you! The priest, of course, claimed some sort of higher intervention and is now quite a noise on the TV chat show scene. I was offered of course, but, well, apart from that interview in the magazine, I’ve kept quiet. There’s really very little I could say. I can’t remember most of it anyway. Oh Flora please, please call.

Your
loving friend,

Victoria
Langley xx

C/O Café Stylianou

Old
Port

Skiathos

Greece

Flora,

Apologies for the delay in writing, time and tide and all that. Told young Hal a few things, had your best interests at heart m’dear. Wouldn’t do for you to be tied down by a pup like him. Have been collecting a few marbles myself, it may surprise you to learn (picked up some survivors from a shipwreck, pure nonsense that it put me at any personal risk, don’t believe what you read. I never do.) So might well see you at the Centre. Anyway, business all concluded, many thanks, as usual.

Your
friend, Carlton.

The Dolphin and Angel Club

Ship
Street

Brighton

Darling Flora,

It
was divine to see you albeit far too briefly! I hope you don’t mind but we couldn’t help but notice that a Treatment or two was called for and we’d like to suggest that you come and recuperate here. Of course, you’ve probably had it by now and are swanning around the kasbah somewhere haggling for superb trinkets. Anyway, loads of love,

Candy
and Ellie xxxxxxxxxx

P.S.
Do try and stop Sylvia writing, there’s a dear. Enough’s enough!

Bella’s Bakery

Cork

Eire

Dear,
dear, Flora,

I
am sending you the first fruit bun that we have made here, I do so hope that it arrives intact! The most marvellous thing has happened – I got stung by a bee, and nothing, but nothing happened! No swelling, no allergy, nothing! Fiachra says it’s due to a happy married life! But then he would, wouldn’t he?

Also,
I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but now I’m a published poet!!! The Cork Bugle printed one of my poems ‘The Bakers Wife’ last week!! How thrilling is that? Fiachra is very proud of me.

Anyway
Flora, I truly am so very happy and I know that I have you to thank! Marmaduke loves it here, so many rabbits for him to chase! He’s also got a female admirer, a whippet called Tess.

Please,
please come and visit, won’t you? And, if you do come, please bring me a copy of the new Byron biography, won’t you?

Lots
and lots of love,

Bella
x

P.S.
Did you see Father Absolom and Maria on the TV? What a scream! All my customers in the shop are signing up like mad for the courses in self-help through the saints, but then, we are in Cork after all!

P.O Box 121

St
John’s Wood

London

If you, like many before you, were touched by the extraordinary events of the house collapse where all miraculously walked away unscathed due to the divine ministrations of Father Absolom and wish to enrol in his life course module ‘Surviving through the Saints!’ or buy any of the literature (£7.99 in p&p) that accompanies this course, please be patient and we will contact you. Due to very high demand we are currently dealing with a large backlog of mail.

Thank
you for your continued interest.

Maria
Kandinsky (secretary)

Hotel Paradiso

Fariba
Islands

Mexico

Flora dear,

Well,
it’s been a long four months since we last spoke. I don’t know where to begin, so much has happened! Archie and I are well, though I doubt that you would recognise us! My dear, I’m blonde, two stone lighter and tanned! Archie says I look smashing! He’s mixing some cocktails at the moment for two very sweet American women who are rather keen on tequila. In fact, we’re rather overrun with Americans at the moment, it seems they all read some nonsense about us in an evangelical paper- and voila! So they descend.

Bella’s
wedding was gorgeous, thank you so much for her dress, you were quite right about it, and again thank you for Fiachra’s dental work – such an improvement! Too generous of you.

We
haven’t managed to see Hal recently but the odd postcards find their way here from strange names like Killaramoo – I think that’s in New Zealand, but I’m not sure, but he seems to be having a super time.

The
hotel is proving a doddle to run, and so much fun! I’m so busy running around all day I don’t have a moment to myself and the American women are very demanding - I’m in the middle of re-decorating the poolside villa for John Taylor – he’s promised to come and have a nice long stay here with a dear friend of his that I think you know? Anthony Rockminster? He sounds a perfect duck by the way. Archie is quite the barman and dresses every night in a different local shirt that has flowers or birds printed on it – Hawaiian, I think they’re called, (What will John think of them?!)

Anyway
Flora many thanks again.

Fondest
wishes,

Sylvia
Amble.

P.S.
Archie says hello and is asking something about a money transfer? But I’m sure he’ll be in touch himself.

P.P.S.
Please tell Ellie and Candy to return my letters, they’d love it over here – many of the American women are quite like them, if you know what I mean!

Postcard franked in Wallahallee, N.Z

Flora,

I was a fool. I turned down the best thing that has ever been offered to me. I must have been blind. If you can ever forgive me, I will spend the rest of my life searching for you. The world is very small, I shall find you.

Hal

Hotel
Paradiso

Fariba
Islands

Mexico

Dear Flora,

Don’t
mind admitting I’m getting a little edgy. Third time I’ve written to you and no reply yet! Just in case you’ve not received my previous letters (and judging by the shower that runs the mail service here I wouldn’t be at all surprised!) I’ll give you my details again.

A.Amble

A/C no 1765 9808 9873 2214

National
Bank of Mexico

Damned
hot here and need the money to install some decent air conditioning, also, wouldn’t mind a little motor boat for dodging around the islands. V.flat sea here – no chance of
mal
de
mer
!

Look
forward to hearing from you soon.

All
the best,

Archie
Amble

Hotel Paradiso

Fariba
Islands

Mexico