Getting The Picture (5 page)

P.P.S. OK, I'm seventy-nine plus a few, but I intend to wait a few more years for my eightieth birthday if it's all the same to you. How did two girls as young as us get so old?

32.
answer phone message from george griffiths to angie griffiths

Hello Angie, this is your father speaking to you. Speaking to your machine I should say, but it's your father here. It's three thirty-five on Tuesday afternoon. I hope you are feeling well. I was relieved to hear from Nell that you are planning to visit us as I fear things are not going too well for her. Nell does her best but Robyn has turned into a complete rebel. She has been lying to her mother.

I found out by accident when Nell thanked me for helping her with her schoolwork.

‘I haven't,' I said, straight off, and you should have seen Nell's face go white. I dread to think what other fibs that girl has been telling her mother. I have promised to draw up a schedule for Robyn. It always used to help you and Nell to have some focus. Focus and discipline, I've found, are the tricks to succeeding in most things. I myself am having to apply it to my own life due to petty annoyances here with other residents at Pilgrim House. Anyway, thank you for the card of Notre Dame, although you would think they would be able to take a photograph without all the scaffolding. Yes, I do understand that it is not always possible for you to get to the phone, and I appreciate the efforts you make to keep in touch. I will leave you now. It's three forty-two. And this has been your father.

33.
letter from martin morris to mo griffiths

Dear Mo,

Do you remember how jealous you used to get? There was never any need but I think you knew that. And you liked it too, didn't you? You told me once it made you feel alive. You were always such a strange little thing.

So shall I tell you about the women I'm living with here and make you jealous? Would you like that, darling? What I wouldn't give to make you feel alive.

First off, there's Catherine Francis. Lady F, Mrs. Oliver calls her for no reason I can see other than Catherine wears pink lipstick and silk scarves tied around her neck like the Queen. She doesn't speak much to me. I thought at first that George had his eye on her, but now I'm not sure. He told her off the other day for half finishing the crossword in the paper. I think he was angry she got more clues than he normally manages.

Helen Elliott wants to be Catherine's friend so badly that it can only annoy Catherine. Every Friday when Catherine makes her special bus trip into town for an afternoon shopping, Helen does everything she can to be invited too. She even hangs around the lobby looking at the pictures but Catherine always sweeps by her. Nice enough, but firm. Mrs. Oliver can't understand why Helen doesn't just go into town on her own, but of course it's not the shopping Helen wants, but Catherine. Well, I know all about that kind of wanting.

Then there's Susan Reed. She has a large family and you probably don't need to know any more than that. Oh, and that they visit. Often. She's always after George to get his, your, grandchildren and hers together, but they're not really Robyn's type. All side partings and stamp collections.

Annabel Armstrong is next. Between you and me, she's well meaning but a bit off her rocker. None of the rest of us say anything but I've noticed we all do our best to hide her excesses. Ever since she caught me coming out of George's room that time she's taken to calling me a thief. It gets annoying but I've managed to turn it into a joke because as the other residents agree, there are far far worse places you can go than here. We wouldn't want that for anyone, even Annabel.

It's hard to separate Beth Crosbie from her husband, and you wouldn't want to. BethandKeith, we call them. Keith's not a proper resident, as George keeps pointing out to anyone who will listen. Mind, Keith seems to go out of his way to drive George mad. The other day he even asked him if he'd mind moving to a different armchair so he could sit next to Beth to watch some television program about dogs. George went straight to his room to write one of his famous letters to Brenda, I expect. Mrs. Oliver is the one I understand best. ‘Call me Florence,' she said the other day. ‘Not bloody likely,' I replied. ‘Before I know it, you'll be strapping me to a bed and shoving thermometers where I don't want them like Florence bloody Nightingale.' She laughed then. In fact, she reminds me of your Trisha. The way they both liked a joke. What happened to her, I wonder? She came back to the studio that day just to have some more photographs taken, Mo. I wish you believed me. Nothing more than that.

God knows, I wasn't a saint. But never with someone you cared about. And then later never with someone I cared about. But that's a different story. You'll have to wait for me to tell you that one. You were always bad at waiting, weren't you? Remember how impatient you got with me, how slow you said I was? I'd like to tease you now. Now all we can both do is wait. So there you have it, your competition. Odd lot we are here. And of course there's George. But you know all about him. Too well, I should think.

And now, until later.

M

34.
note from george griffiths to brenda lewis

Dear Mrs. Lewis,

You asked me to make a list specifically of the issues that are concerning me so I have outlined these below. First of all, the following things have gone missing from my room. They are not in the chronological order of their disappearance but include:

Two bars of opened soap

One tube of toothpaste — Colgate

A postcard from my daughter in France

A pencil, just sharpened

A copy of the Daily Telegraph, with a half completed crossword, dated 21st February

A packet of seeds

I appreciate that none of these are of monetary worth. However, the thieving is of grave concern to me, particularly as I have my suspicions.

Second, I would like to express my concern about Annabel Armstrong's health. My understanding is that one of the conditions of residency in Pilgrim House is the ability to care for yourself. However, it is becoming increasingly clear that Mrs. Armstrong is unable to take responsibility for her personal grooming and this combined with her continual chanting of obscenities makes me wonder if it would be kinder to find her accommodation where she could receive more support.

Third, while I appreciate that a husband and wife will want to be together, please could you confirm that Keith Crosbie makes a financial contribution to the running of Pilgrim House? We are, after all, a charity and yet I have noticed he enjoys several cups of tea during the time he is here and often takes a biscuit. When I questioned him about it, he said he was merely using up Beth's share. In the appropriate circumstances, I am not unsympathetic to Beth's lack of appetite, but a husband using it to further his own greed seems a bit much. If you think it might help your case, I am happy to do a spreadsheet of a typical resident's consumption and arrange some kind of chart in the kitchen whereby we all keep a note of what we take.

And last, I was shocked to see tattoos on the hand of the new staff member. I realise we have to move with the times, and I have nothing against people defiling their bodies should they choose to do so in the privacy of their own home. However, it might be more suitable if you could advise him to keep his marks covered while he is at work. I know that Catherine Francis, in particular, is not used to such things. Perhaps he could wear gloves? I look forward to hearing your plan of action.

Yours sincerely,

George Griffiths

35.
letter from florence oliver to lizzie corn

Dear Lizzie,

I was only joking when I said you made me do the photographs, and I'm sorry you took it so badly because no slur was intended. Anyway, I am flummoxed you thought I was blaming you for that unfortunate incident with the officers at Aldershot. Truth is, I'd forgotten about dancing with the young lieutenant although it's true that Graham did think you were involved and it was wrong of me not to stand up for you more at the time. All I meant was that we egg each other on, love. We both know it's all just a bit of fun.

I know you mean to be kind by worrying about me but I'm really not making a fool of myself. Yes, I do realise how old I am, and no, I hadn't realised that there was such a thing as granny porn. Fancy Troy talking about such a thing at dinner, and in front of the children too. I bet you didn't know where to put yourself particularly when, as you say, you had just read my letter. Write soon, Lizzie, and tell me all is forgiven. I shall wait for the mail.

Yours aye,

Flo

P.S. I've just had a terrible thought. You don't think Troy is reading your mail, do you? Hide this, Lizzie, or eat it after reading. You can't be too careful.

P.P.S. And he was heavenly, that officer in Aldershot. He kissed my hand, you know, and just gently licked my thumbnail until I thought I might have to faint. You wouldn't have caught Graham doing anything like that. Truth is, I was grateful to you.

36.
letter from martin morris to mo griffiths

Dear Mo,

Although every day I feel I'm getting closer to your family, there are still times when I wish I'd never left my studio. I preferred it when I could think of George as some kind of perfect hero, taking you away from me. Honestly, love, he has to be the coldest fish I've ever met. I don't mean to speak ill of your husband, but everything is about the right way to behave with him. Just yesterday, I came down to find Helen Elliott in the kitchen in tears. ‘What's up?' I asked her and she refused to tell me at first. Then she admitted that George had told her to stop bothering Catherine Francis. ‘I am mortified,' she kept saying, and it took at least two cups of tea before I could get her to stop crying. George has only put this chart up in the kitchen, by the way, which we're supposed to check off every time we use a teabag. No one does so I bet he has already written to poor Brenda to complain.

The long and the short of it is that we both went to see Catherine Francis because Helen wanted to apologise. ‘Do you think it best?' she kept asking me. I didn't but I've learned enough about women to know that once they have determined something in their mind then nothing will make them change it. And of course, Catherine was flummoxed. She hadn't said anything to George. ‘Did he really say you were bothering me?' she asked. Helen fluttered a bit. ‘He said it might be construed that way,' she said, and I thought ‘you're lying, miss', but I wasn't going to spoil the moment. I was enjoying being publicly indignant about George too much.

‘But why did you never say you wanted to come for tea with me?' Catherine was as nice as anything. ‘It will be lovely to have company.'

‘Really? How lovely,' Helen fluttered.

‘Lovely,' I said, joining in with enthusiasm. ‘Isn't this lovely?' But neither of them took any notice of me.

And so they're going together next Friday. Catherine's just shy, of course, and sometimes that can be taken the wrong way. I don't know if you remember me telling you about Sue. She was the model from Hastings, the one with the red hair. Everyone thought she was hoity-toity, but she just couldn't get the words out at the right time. That was why I always used to photograph her with a cat. She could talk on and on to animals and it would make her seem softer somehow in the pictures.

I wish I'd asked you more about George when I could. It was my stupid pride that stopped me but information always comes in useful. I can't help wondering if it would have made a difference if I had put up more of a fight for you. Well, maybe it's not too late for something to happen.

M

37.
letter from george griffiths to brenda lewis

Dear Mrs. Lewis,

In addition to the points raised in my last letter, I would also be grateful if you could show Florence Oliver how to shut doors more quietly. It is not that she exactly slams the door, but if she were to learn to use the handle and pull the door closed with that, then we could all enjoy a more tranquil ambience. Consideration of others is a common courtesy.

I have tried to talk to her myself but to no avail.

Yours sincerely,

George Griffiths

38.
letter from florence oliver to lizzie corn

Dearest Lizzie,

You and I are friends again!

I read your card with such joy, Lizzie. The moment I saw the picture of those two poor little Royal boys, I knew it was from you and that you had forgiven me. And yes, if you're sure that's what you want, I'll carry on telling you everything that's happening here. I shall smile to think of our letters in a box marked Incontinence Pads. You are right to think Troy won't venture in there. Trouble is I hardly know where to begin. Oh, I know we've both had our moments over the years but it feels good to be alive. Do you remember that tattoo artist at Southend who tried to persuade you to have a rose on your thigh? I don't mind telling you I was jealous of that but, with the greatest respect, in terms of wickedness, he has nothing on Martin.

So let me tell you about the plan.

I am going to seduce George Griffiths!

What do you think of that?

Of course, I'm not going to seduce him properly. I'm not that daft. Just become close to him. Martin thought of the idea. It's so we can get evidence on him and then we are going to make a complaint. We're going to give him a taste of his own medicine. It's just a bit of fun so don't you go getting all sour-lemony on me and taking the wind out of my sails. No one who doesn't deserve it will get hurt. George makes everyone's life a misery so this is going to be our revenge. Martin's and mine. Besides, it's not as if there's anything else for us to do in here. We had to sit through a talk yesterday afternoon from a woman who makes bread. She told us how therapeutic it can be to pound and beat the dough. She'd brought some with her already prepared that she kept throwing up and catching until Annabel Armstrong got too excited and the new help, Steve, had to take her out. But I had to leave the room too. I kept thinking about Graham and how red his face used to get when he was angry. He always had to be right. I suppose it was his army training. As I went, I could see Martin giving me a smile. I don't think he'd hurt a fly. It's unusual for a man to be gentle like that.