Getting The Picture (11 page)

I don't care if Dad is upset. If Robyn doesn't want to visit him, that's his fault. He has to learn. And we do too, Angie. He can't have it his own way the whole time.

And what do you mean he wanted to be a ballet dancer? You do talk rot. You can't have been listening to him properly. Either that, or you need a new machine. It's probably worn out from all the complaints he seems to be making to you.

80.
letter from florence oliver to lizzie corn

Dear Lizzie,

Fancy you keeping those notes from our investment club. I'd forgotten how serious we took ourselves. Still, it was always about more than the money, wasn't it? I used to love thinking about those meetings after the boys came back from Germany and we couldn't meet up anymore. Of course, you had Laurie to keep you busy by then, but it was still special for all of us.

I wonder what's happened to the other two members, Karen Enders and Miriam Jones. I lost touch with most of the wives because Graham thought it unnatural for women to spend time with other women. It was all right with you, of course, because of Frank.

The Beachwood Investment Committee. We were right posh, weren't we?

Anyway, this will be very helpful. I have made a list of all the questions we asked ourselves at the beginning to go through with George. I've noticed that lists and bullet points are the sort of thing he likes, and I must admit I find there's something comforting about the sense of order they give too. Don't laugh, but I even went out and got myself a file of my own to keep notes of our meetings in.

So what else have you got squirrelled away there? I don't suppose you have any of the photographs they took of us that time we won the bottle of champagne at the Palace Ballrooms, have you? We had to plead with the photographer not to send our picture into the local paper because someone might have told Graham and Frank. It's just that Martin's been talking about taking my picture again, and I thought if you still had those shots I might show them to him. That's how I like to think of myself, almost pretty. There was some trick that photographer must have done with light, I reckon. And that was even before we broke into the bubbly.

Now, I have never heard of these war games Brian has taken up, but are they something like the tin soldiers we had in our day? In which case I'm sure there is nothing for you to fret about. Graham used to keep his in an old biscuit tin at the bottom of the wardrobe. He would get them out sometimes when he couldn't sleep, set up wars on the kitchen table and then wake me up to play the enemy. On second thought, maybe you should worry a little. Although I have heard these old toys are very valuable nowadays. There was someone going on about it on the
Antiques Road
s
how
just last week. I do like it when you can watch their faces to work out whether they are pleased with how much they're offered. They never are, have you noticed that? Even when they suddenly get the chance of lots of money, you can see they are suddenly thinking, is that all? It's as if getting a little bit of something opens up this huge hole instead of filling it.

It is a pity Troy won't let you have a television in the house anymore. There's another good show about models too. The camera keeps catching the girls when they look at each other. I want to be you, they're saying, I want your hair, or your smile, or your body. I asked Sophi the other day if she'd like to be a model. ‘Oh no,' she said. ‘I want a career.' She's going to be a psychologist. I found myself looking at her then, with a gust of hunger. I want to be you, I was thinking.

Of course, George doesn't approve of the model program. Brenda says we're to sort out what we watch between us and he's always after changing the channel to something mind-improving, but we're still better off than you. Could you not even get a small one for your room? I can see that family time is important, but Troy's not even family, is he? And you must miss your Royal programs.

Still, I am glad we have agreed on Bournemouth for summer, and that Laurie thinks it suitable. It will be something to look forward to. If we're spared, of course.

Yours aye,

Flo

81.
note from claude bichourie to angela Griffiths

Angela,

Here is your air ticket to Monaco. I will meet you at the hotel, but cars have been arranged for you either side. Reserve your strength for me. I have missed you.

Until then,

Claude

82.
answer phone message from antoine dupert to angela griffiths

I just thought the flowers might make you smile. I did not mean to offend but when I saw you had returned the envelope with the photographs in without even opening them, it was like a dagger to my heart. They are waiting for you here because I am sure you will want to see them one day. I know what happened in the studio that day and it was beyond knowing. The photographs are proof of that.

83.
email from nell baker to angie griffiths

What do you mean you can't get over here for another month? Hell, Angie. But I suppose if you're being sick everywhere then there's nothing you can do. Are you sure you're OK with a French doctor? Don't take any medicine you can't understand. I have heard they make you put pills up very unsavoury places. Can't imagine doing that when I was pregnant. Anyway, I had tea at last with the mysterious Martin Morris, and he's OK. He used to be a photographer but obviously something went wrong because he ended up running a newsagent shop instead. It felt a bit rude to ask him too much but he obviously knows all about art and books. Anyway, he's offered to help coach Robyn, which could be just what she needs. I can't believe my luck. He took some persuading because he didn't want to upset Dad. I ask you. As if Dad would notice anything apart from not getting his dinner at exactly the right time. But to make Martin feel better, I said I'd send a taxi to pick him up and he could meet Robyn here at the house so Dad wouldn't know. They're going to meet weekly at first and we'll see how it goes.

For some reason he makes me think of Mum, probably because they're interested in the same books. He picked up her copy of
The Mayor of Casterbridge
. Asked if he could borrow it. I said yes, although it's always the same with books. The minute someone wants to borrow one, you suddenly want to read it again. Mum loved that one too, didn't she?

I made him some butterfly cakes. I had to scrape the top off where they were a little burned, but he seemed to appreciate them. I was thinking about how Mum used to scoop out a circle at the top and cut it into wings, but I couldn't quite get it like that. Robyn said they were more like beetle cakes, and I told them both how I cried once because I thought the cakes were full of butterflies and Dad sent me to bed because I was spoiling tea time. I think it might have been you who told me about the butterflies now but it was probably just meant to be a joke. I was too scared of everything.

Anyway, Robyn and Martin laughed. He asked a lot about you. She's the beautiful one, I said. I think I wanted Robyn to say, no she isn't, Mum, you are, but she just nodded. It was Martin who said I was beautiful. Very quietly, when Robyn was out of the kitchen. He's an old man, of course, so there's no funny business there but it still made me feel happy.

Anyway, let me know when you can come and you'll let Dad know about the baby, won't you?

84.
letter from martin morris to mo griffiths

Dear Mo,

Did you never think of teaching your daughter how to cook? When I think of the treats you once made for us on my little studio gas cooker, my mouth still waters. I'm not sure what it was that Nell made for me yesterday but it tasted like ashes. Robyn couldn't eat it either. I caught her eye after I took a bite and she gestured to something just behind her. It was the wastebasket! So I passed the cake to Robyn without Nell seeing and that was fine.

Anyway, apart from the attempted poisoning, the visit went off so well that she's only invited me around there once a week to spend some time with Robyn.

‘I'm not very good at arty things,' Nell said. ‘It was always Robyn's father's specialty.'

‘Do you see him, Robyn?' I asked. I wanted to include her in the conversation, too so it wouldn't feel I'd been foisted on her by Nell.

She started fiddling with her hair. That's something she does, Mo, when she's not sure what to say. It's how I'd take her photograph, looking slightly to the side and one hand half covering her face.

‘I'd like to,' she said then. I could hear Nell's surprised gasp behind me, but I didn't turn around. ‘But later, when I'm older,' Robyn said quickly then.

I wondered after, when I got home, whether she'd heard Nell's gasp too. Probably wanted to protect her mother. I haven't got to grips yet with what caused that marriage breakup, but I'll find out from George. It's all things to store away, Mo. Haven't I always said that nothing is ever wasted!

M

85.
answer phone message from george griffiths to angie Griffiths

Hello Angie,

This is your father. Thank you for your postcard of Rudolf Nureyev. I think you are a little mistaken because it wasn't me that wanted to be a ballerina, and I am shocked you should think so. It was another man here and I told you only because it was a disturbing conversation.

This is something I feel it is important to clear up. Wishful thinking is all well and good, but far better to appreciate what life gives you. I have always been very proud to have been an accountant.

Other than this we are all fine. I stubbed my big toe on a textbook young Sophi had left out for Mrs. Oliver, but Nell took me to the doctor. How she manages to take so much time off work I have no idea, but of course her job is not as pressurized as yours.

I wrote to Brenda about the book and the importance all residents must take with their possessions. It could have been much worse.

Your father

86.
note from martin morris to robyn baker

Dear Robyn,

Your poem about Susan Reed shows just how well you are learning to use your imagination. All writers go through the concern you described about using real people for inspiration, but it can be good to feel guilty because you need to break through the resistance and shock yourself. People rarely recognize themselves in writing and besides, you must trust me not to let your stories fall into the wrong hands. It may be that you want to try to write a group scene soon, perhaps using Pilgrim House as a setting. Just a thought.

It seems to me that this would be much better for your development than more nature poems. Plenty of time for those later.

Martin

87.
letter from dr. croft to brenda lewis

Dear Ms. Lewis,

Thank you for your letter dated 27 April. I am pleased that my patient, Martin Morris, has settled in so well at Pilgrim House. Certainly, I would not have expected him to be called an ‘asset' to the social life of any community, and I think you are being modest at not taking the credit for yourself. Let us hope that this will be the change his health so badly needs.

I can understand that you are perturbed that he will not allow anyone in to clean his room. It may be that for the moment, given what you say about his improved personal hygiene, that we would be better to humour him in this matter and trust that his good progress continues. It may just be that he needs time to acclimatize to the lack of privacy.

In the meantime, please keep me informed of any events you think I should know about. I was interested he had been inquiring about Mahad Jefferies but I am afraid he is correct in that the telephone number for Mr. Jefferies is now registering as unattainable and we have no forwarding address for him. Furthermore, the shop has been turned into an interior decorating consultancy, but I will leave it to your discretion whether you let Mr. Morris know this or not.

Yours sincerely,

Michael Croft

88.
letter from florence oliver to lizzie corn

Dear Lizzie,

You are being very unfair on me. It's too bad of you to call me selfish and self-centred and other such names.

I'm very sorry, I'm sure, if I've had things of my own to talk about recently, and that I forgot to ask about Laurie's concerns about early menopause and Brian's schoolwork, but if I'm being honest, sometimes all you do is whine about your family. How can I be expected to remember and care for every petty thing that happens to people who, if you remember, didn't want me to stay with them because they'd rather have a room free in which to play table football?

I may be silly sometimes, Lizzie, but I am never stupid.

This time I am too hurt to grovel, but I am enclosing a postcard of Marie Antoinette. I know she is French, but she is still Royal. George's daughter has lovely handwriting, doesn't she? Very flowery.

Yours aye,

Florence

89.
letter from martin morris to mo griffiths

Dear Mo,

There are these two girls who come here every Tuesday to do the ladies' hair. They're called Sandra and Gill and they set up shop in one of the bathrooms. You should see how serious they take it, like us when you used to come to the studio sometimes and I would set the table for tea beforehand so it would feel like we were living in a proper home.

Anyway, they let me sit on a chair outside in the corridor and watch. They call it Martin's chair now, and they're always joking that if I sit there long enough, they'll do my hair. But then they always say I'm lovely, like their best granddad.

I like to be among the women, and I'm safe from George. He buzzes around me now, but he won't come near ‘women's morning'. Mrs. Oliver says it's because he's worried he'll catch something. I felt sorry for her this morning, and not just because the lipstick she's taken to wearing was smudged so she looked clownlike. She's normally one of these cheery sorts, never letting herself get down but she seems to have lost her bounce. I wondered if George is being a bit harsh on her. He told me she was ‘not quite the thing' yesterday. It made my stomach tighten when I thought of you. I hope you didn't always have to be ‘quite' and never too much, Mo, because God knows you could be too much sometimes. I loved it.