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Getting The Picture

Page 17

by Salway, Sarah;


  I am delighted. Even if you considered me the last person who needed to know. A little Claude-alini can only bring joy.

  I will ask my lawyers to draw you up some papers so I can bring them along tonight for you to sign. Nothing to worry about, we just need to make sure everything is above-board, and then you and I will celebrate with a glass of champagne for me, and some sparkling water for Claude-alini’s mother.

  Until then, keep safe for me.

  C

  158. note from steve jenkins to martin morris

  If you want a dancing lesson it’ll be £20 cash in hand. 4:30, your room.

  Cheers,

  Steve

  159. letter from martin morris to mo griffiths

  Dear Mo,

  Dancing will be quite different with a woman, I’m sure, but truth is, I didn’t quite get the hang of it with Steve. He was a little rougher than he needed to be, and besides, my room is so small. We kept bumping into corners, and once I fell against the bed and hurt my thigh.

  I guess I’ve got out of the habit of touching another person. I wanted to shake him off, although after he went, I got out your photograph again and as Steve had showed me, I turned around, dipped you down, and then lifted you up again. I could do it all perfectly with you although my knuckles were white with holding you so tight. I didn’t want to let you drop out of my hands, see. Not this time.

  ‘So do you think it’ll work?’ Mrs. Oliver keeps asking. She means Nell and Steve’s seduction. That’s why she thinks we’re doing it. I’m letting her just get on naturally with George. It’s working better now she’s not forcing things and frightening him.

  But when we were dancing, you and me, I kept getting these shooting pains that went up my arms. They made me breathless.

  What if Angie comes back for the dancing? That would be grand, wouldn’t it? Another good reason to keep on with the classes. I’ll dance with Angie, Nell, and Robyn, and no one will be able to stop me. Then when I’ve finished with them, I’ll capture Mrs. Oliver.

  As I twirled you fast round and round, I shut my eyes and thought of you in a red dress, me in a smart suit.

  And George will see what being left alone really feels like.

  M

  160. answer phone message from george griffiths to angie griffiths

  Hello Angie,

  This is your father speaking. I am sorry I was not here when you rang and I have only just received your message. Brenda gave it to Annabel who must have mislaid it. It was only when Brenda asked me at breakfast if I had called you back that I found out. We are all getting a little agitated. Martin even dropped his tea for a second time when Brenda was passing on your greetings.

  I have been out shopping with Nell. She seemed to think I needed some new clothes. We went to the department store Helen and Catherine are always going on about and it was very clean. Nell might frighten you with some silly stories about how I felt faint in the women’s section when she was trying on some dresses, but it was just too long on my feet. Nothing a cup of tea afterwards couldn’t sort out.

  Your sister seems well. Obviously I would prefer it if she could get back with her husband, but at least he seems to be acting more responsibly towards Robyn these days, and perhaps not everyone could be as lucky as I was with your mother. Times change.

  Anyway, I am not sure what it is you needed to speak to me about so urgently, but I am here, Angie. Whenever you want me.

  George

  161. email from nell baker to angie griffiths

  Hey, Angie, you’ve been ringing. Don’t know why you couldn’t leave a proper message but remember your sunglasses when you come. Dad has only got himself a bright red shirt. Yep, that’s right. RED. I tried to persuade him to go for something more appropriate but he insisted. We got a black one for Martin too. As a present for the dancing. Admittedly there wasn’t much choice, but still.

  162. letter from florence oliver to lizzie corn

  Dear Lizzie,

  Well, I don’t know! Your letter quite shocked me. How Laurie expects you to change from just the four of you — her, you, Brian, and Amy — in a four-bedroom house to fit in both Troy and Cora is beyond me. No wonder you were put out. It’s quite a different thing from Cora coming for a brief visit to her moving in.

  But I’m pleased that Amy chose you to share a room with because it proves that the plan is working, doesn’t it? And yes, while I can see it must be annoying to have that disco music playing all the time, soon they will resent Cora for all the restrictions she is putting on them, and you will be the fun one. Tiring though. You are doing the hard work with all those shopping trips and dance moves while all Cora does is play a few games. And talking of which, we are going dancing tomorrow night. Martin seems quite the thing about it. He and Annabel even did a little two-step thing around the sitting room just now until they knocked Helen’s glass of water over. We all expected Brenda to come storming in, but Steve cleared it up without saying anything. He even winked at Martin. ‘You’re an expert,’ he said, so George and I are even more determined to sit on the sidelines.

  ‘Florence,’ George said to me as I went up to bed, ‘I wonder if I could ask you something personal?’ I blushed. How long is it since I’ve done that? No one was in earshot though, so I pretended to be calm. I have come to like his formal ways. I know I found him stuffy to begin with, but it’s relaxing after Martin’s constant chattering. I’m sure he didn’t always used to be so exhausting. Or rude.

  ‘You can,’ I told George.

  Well, he only asked me if I had a red dress. I was puzzled, I can tell you. I suppose it comes from having a daughter in Paris.

  So I told him I just had a red coat, and he seemed a bit disappointed, but then wished me a good night.

  ‘Don’t let the fleas bite,’ I told him.

  I could have kicked myself when I got back here. As if George is the type to talk about fleas with. What will he think of me?

  Glad Laurie is thawing a bit. Trust me, pet. Things will work out.

  Yours aye,

  Flo

  163. email from nell baker to angie griffiths

  No, Angie, you’ll have to do better than ‘trust me’.

  I thought we’d finished with all this.

  Is it because Dad and I are finally having a relationship of some sort that you don’t like? Or I’m having some fun of my own at last? You are the one who ran away fifteen years ago and have been home, what, about three times since. So what gives you the right to start bossing us all around now?

  Perhaps the same mystery objection that wouldn’t let you talk to Mum for all those years? Not even when we all begged you to come and see her at the end.

  Come on, Angie, this fantasy life you’re living in Paris might be wonderful, but some of us have to live in the real world. Going salsa dancing with Dad might not be the most glamorous evening, but don’t try and spoil even that for me. You’re going to be a mother soon and it’s about time you grew up. If you’ve something to say, get on a plane and come and say it to me. Then I’ll listen to you.

  Nell

  164. letter from martin morris to mo griffiths

  Dear Mo,

  Well, we went.

  I don’t think it was quite what any of us were expecting. Not even Steve. Although to be honest, being squashed in the back of his car while Florence luxuriated in the front seat probably didn’t help start the evening off on the best of footings. That, and the dreadful Spanish music he insisted on playing. Florence kept tapping her fingers on Steve’s arm and saying this was the life, but I just couldn’t see it myself. What I didn’t know was why I couldn’t have gone with George in Nell’s car, but it seemed they were to be just family. I couldn’t help wonder if that was Robyn’s idea.

  If only she knew.

  Anyway, by the time we got to the hall, they were still taking down the badminton nets and there was a smell of trainers that made me want to sit down. All I could see were these low benches though, so I tried to
jiggle from foot to foot to keep the blood flowing in my legs.

  ‘Getting ready are you, Martin?’ Florence said, elbowing me.

  I frowned at her. We could see Nell and George on the other side of the hall, but Florence didn’t seem to be making any rush to move. She nudged me again to look where Robyn was draped backward over a man’s arm. We could see her upside-down face before she was flung upright and twirled around to dip the other side. It looked painful.

  ‘Yahoo,’ Nell called to us, waving her arm.

  ‘You go on,’ Florence said, nudging Steve forward. I felt sympathetic towards him, but not when he turned around and winked at me.

  ‘Remember the steps,’ he said.

  ‘Remember what steps?’ Mrs. Oliver is like a terrier who can’t leave anything alone. ‘You haven’t been having secret lessons, have you?’

  I shook my head, and held out my arm to her. ‘Will you do me the honour,’ I said, and when she took it, I carried on, ‘of showing me your knickers tonight?’

  ‘Oh Martin,’ she squeezed my hand painfully. ‘You are a card.’

  It seems this is what is expected of me lately. To be the dirty old man.

  It felt like a long walk over to where George and Nell were standing, deep in conversation next to a young couple, dressed in jeans and sweaters and holding hands. Steve was squatting down next to a portable CD player.

  ‘There’s no music,’ Nell said, but just then Robyn came back with her partner. He was about five foot six, and at least sixty years old. He let go of Robyn to tuck his shirt into his tightly belted trousers, and I noticed to my horror we were wearing exactly the same black shirt. George had got me it from town and I knew it was ridiculous, but I thought the others would see the joke. Trouble is no one laughed.

  ‘I am Phillipo,’ he said, waving his heavily bejeweled fingers at us as Robyn ran around to her mother’s side. ‘Your teacher. We will do the imagining tonight. And what is music anyway but a dream of the mind.’

  I could hear Florence scoffing next to me. ‘We were better off in your car listening to the real stuff,’ she told Steve. ‘At least it was less smelly there too.’

  Robyn was still red-faced from the dancing. ‘You look hot,’ I said to her, but she ignored me.

  ‘Granddad,’ she said, turning to George, ‘will you dance with me? You look so smart, all dressed up in red.’

  Just then there was a commotion at the door, and Nell’s policeman walked in. ‘Mark,’ Nell cried, and went running over. Florence caught my eye, and we looked to where Steve was still fiddling with the music player. It was very disappointing.

  ‘Shall I get my CD?’ Steve asked, and before I could say anything, he’d left.

  ‘Line up, line up.’ Phillipo clapped his hands now, and Florence took George by the hand, and Nell and Mark stood together. Only me and Robyn were left. I was thinking that was a bit of all right, but she went and ruined it by going to sit on the bench.

  ‘I’m dancing with Steve,’ she said. ‘We arranged it.’

  By whom, I wanted to ask, a minute ago you were begging your granddad to dance with you, but George was comparing the time on his wristwatch with the gym clock, so I knew he wouldn’t accuse Robyn of having bad manners. Besides, Florence wasn’t going to let him go.

  ‘I’ll sit the first one out,’ I said in what I hoped was a gracious way. As Steve came back clutching his wretched CD, Phillipo clicked his fingers at shoulder height. He walked sideways, his upper body seesawing and I could hear him shouting above Steve’s music. ‘The tango is from the streets. It is not polite. It is most of all a dance about the passiono.’

  From the yelp George gave, I guessed Florence had just pinched him. Despite the £20 I’d spent on lessons, I was glad to be sitting this out. Steve and I hadn’t talked much about the passiono when we were practicing in my room. The young couple were looking very nervous too.

  ‘Remember it is your hearts which are touching,’ Phillipo said, ‘not your bodies.’

  I wanted to be back in my little bedroom, thinking about you and me, and our hearts touching. I shut my eyes and when I opened them again, everyone was in different parts of the hall.

  ‘I’ve got more than enough passion to go around, thank you very much,’ Florence was shouting, as Phillipo clutched at her waist. I could see George’s face and I was pleased how he looked as if he was in agony. He’d told me all about his back, so I could imagine what it was costing him standing straight like that. It would have made you laugh, seeing him and Florence and thinking about hearts touching.

  ‘You are in the Buenos Aires, you are in the bull fighters, you are in love, you are in hate,’ Phillipo kept shouting.

  ‘Just hate,’ I wanted to shout. I wondered what George’s expression would be like when I showed him Florence’s photographs. I knew it was the next step, now that they didn’t seem to be able to take their eyes off each other.

  Only Robyn and Steve looked as if they knew what they were doing. At least they were the only ones moving in some kind of circle. The young couple kept bumping into Nell and Mark, and Florence and George were just standing there now, holding hands and swaying a bit. The smell of furniture polish gave me a sudden urge to be sick.

  ‘Dip, dip, dive,’ that bloody Phillipo was yelling. ‘Feel the grass under the feet.’

  ‘Want me to take you around so you don’t feel like such a wallflower?’ Steve shouted across the hall at me, and I could see Robyn laughing as he whispered something to her. I shut my eyes again, and ran my finger around the collar of my stupid black shirt. I wanted only you and me to have been there.

  At last, the music came to an end and I thought at last we could all go home, have a nice cup of tea, and forget about it. But then more music started up again. Florence and George hobbled over. ‘My hips are agony,’ Florence said. ‘What a shame you didn’t get to dance, Martin.’

  I shrugged, trying to look as if I didn’t care. ‘Dancing’s not really my thing,’ I said. ‘Not public displays anyway.’

  ‘Hey George.’ Robyn was whirling by now, she almost looked pretty when her face was moving. ‘Pity you couldn’t find a partner, especially when you’ve been having lessons.’

  I looked down at the ground.

  ‘She’s a little overexcited,’ George said. ‘I’ve had enough anyway. I don’t know about you, Florence, but I’ll get Nell to take us home.’ He shuffled over to where Nell and Mark were trying out steps on their own in the corner.

  ‘What will that girl think of to lie about next?’ I said to Florence, and she gave me a funny look.

  ‘Well, I enjoyed it and George is a good dancer,’ she said, as if that had anything to do with anything.

  Nell came bustling over. ‘You won’t mind if I just drop you off and then come back,’ she said. ‘It’s just that–’ She shrugged and looked over at Mark.

  I didn’t care. All I wanted was my little room at the top of the house. Our little sanctuary. Yours and mine.

  ‘Goodbye, Granddad,’ Robyn shouted. ‘You’re a lovely, lovely dancer.’

  ‘That he is,’ Florence shouted back. ‘Lovely.’

  It was an unfortunate end to the evening that George should stumble just then on the way out of the door. I could see Robyn stare at me when she came running over, but as Florence kept saying as Steve took us home, it was just bad luck he fell over my foot and at least Nell was there to pick him up and take him to A&E.

  And now I can’t get rid of that dreadful music from my head. It wasn’t at all what I imagined. A classy woman like you would have hated it. We should have black ties and dinner suits. Music we could hold each other decently to.

  At least George won’t be in any state to go dancing again for a while. Brenda has just come knocking on my door to say it was a sprained ankle. She seemed to think I might care.

  M

  165. letter from florence oliver to lizzie corn

  Dear Lizzie,

  Well, I suppose I could ask if you could com
e and stay here if things got too bad at Laurie’s, but there’s no actual bedroom available and as you pointed out when I wanted to stay with you, we’re a bit old for put-me-ups. I can’t imagine Annabel will be moving out again soon because her sons are so generous. It was a new coffeemaker the other day. I would have stroked its shiny surface if I’d have got there first, but it’s streaked from where the others have had a go.

  I’m not sure I’d be brave enough to use it ever. Steve demonstrated it for us and although he made us laugh by pretending to make the whoosh-whoosh noises himself, it’s too much like a space machine for me. And of course coffee does such dreadful things to my insides.

  Are you sure you couldn’t stick it out there? I know it’s not nice that Troy told Amy you were wicked after she did her dancing display, and Brian should not be blackmailing you for giving him nightmares after the sword stories, but it is still your home. What a shame you decided against Bournemouth when Cora first moved in and you felt you needed to be there. It would have been a good break, but I can’t leave George right now.

  He’s fine after his nasty accident but it’s nice for him to be looked after a bit. What fools we were to go dancing, and although, Lizzie, we only stood up together for a bit and it was George Griffiths, I got a tingle. I really did. And I think he did too. I told him he was a perfect leader.

  Let me know if things get better, and if they don’t I promise I’ll ask Brenda about the possibilities of a bed and breakfast for you locally,

  Yours aye,

  Flo

  166. email from nell baker to angie griffiths

  Hey Angie,

  OK, I will wait to get your letter, but I can’t imagine what it will say that will make me change my mind about Martin. I feel rather sorry for him actually. He hated the dancing, and I think his nose was put out of joint with Dad and Florence Oliver doing so well at it. Did you ever suspect Dad of having any natural rhythm? He must have given up on it because Mum always hated it so much, didn’t she?

 

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