Getting The Picture (9 page)

M

58.
note from claude bichourie to angela griffiths

My little English Angela, it bores me when we argue. Our time together should be spent on love and joy. I have asked my bank to increase your allowance because, of course, you must have more clothes. But be careful how you ask me next time. There are ways these things could be prettier done.

59.
note from steve jenkins to george griffiths

George,

Keith Crosbie, Martin Morris, and myself thought we might put together a darts team at the local Wednesday nights. Care to join us? We thought we'd call ourselves The Pilgrims, have T-shirts made and the like. Just a bit of fun.

Steve

60.
note from george griffiths to steve jenkins (written on note 59)

DEAR
George,

Keith Crosbie (WHO IS NOT A RESIDENT), Martin Morris and
myself
I
thought we might put together a darts team
at
FOR
the
FALCON ARMS
local
ON
Wednesday nights (TIME?).
WOULD YOU LIKE
Care
to join us? We thought we'd call
ourselves
OUR TEAM
The Pilgrims (DISRESPECTFUL?), have T-shirts made and the like (THE LIKE? BE SPECIFIC).
IT IS
Just a bit of fun (THE FUN ELEMENT IS ENTIRELY SUBJECTIVE).

WITH BEST WISHES/YOURS SINCERELY/OR EVEN FROM

Steve

Dear Steve,

Thank you for your invitation but I find myself busy on Wednesday evenings. I wish you well in your endeavour, though.

With best wishes,

George

61.
email from nell baker to angie griffiths

YOU'RE WHAT?!!! My kid sister pregnant! I'm guessing you haven't told Dad yet. He's going to go ballistic. Still, congratulations. It's not the married Monsieur Frog, is it? Does he know? You'll have to speak to Dad when he's here. Don't you dare do it by one of your postcards and leave me to pick up the pieces. Hey, you realise this will mean you'll be the bad girl now and he can stop going on about my divorce. Maybe he'll even let Robyn off the hook. His latest escapade is to have upset one of the care workers. Brenda said ‘enough is enough' and I had to have a word with him. I was nearly sick with nerves on the way there, but he was surprisingly cooperative. I'd forgotten about his sudden shifts. It's as if he needs to get it out of his system and then he's fine, although I still can't help but think he's got something up his sleeve. Oh, a baby, Angie. I can't believe it. You of all people. Tell me more.

62.
answer phone message from antoine dupert to angela griffiths

If you don't want to talk to me, at least look at the photographs we created together. You can't tell me they don't show the connection between us. We made the earth move then, and after. We made every cliché true. If I don't hear from you, I will get my staff to call you. No one as beautiful as you can make themselves as invisible as you seem to have done.

63.
answer phone message from the surgery of dr. flaubert to angela griffiths

Madame Griffiths, this is Dr. Flaubert's surgery again. Dr. Flaubert would like to remind you of the urgency of scheduling your second appointment as soon as possible. Please could you call. Thank you.

64.
letter from george griffiths to brenda lewis

Dear Mrs. Lewis,

I have just been to my room to find my copy of
Accountancy Age
is missing, as well as several items of stationery. Given that I am the only resident in Pilgrim House with professional qualifications and the magazine can therefore be of no interest to others, I am forced to come to the conclusion that these thefts are of a personal nature, designed purely to annoy. I would be grateful if you could reconsider your position about locks on residents' doors as I am sure my daughter could arrange this with no inconvenience to yourself.

On that other matter, and further to a conversation with my daughter, I have today apologised to Steve for his misunderstanding of my well-meaning attempt to correct his written English. I hope that will be the end to it. For Nell's sake, I will endeavour to partake in the fruits of social contact with my fellow residents.

Yours sincerely,

George Griffiths

65.
letter from martin morris to mo griffiths

Dear Mo,

Truth is I didn't expect to find it so tiring being with other people. Maybe it's because I'm out of practice but it seems you say one thing to them only to have them come back with another and then you've got to think of something else altogether to say. It's like a game of Ping-Pong.

At least when I was behind the camera I had something to fiddle with. Same with the shop. People would come in and I'd only have to make a comment about the weather, or the state of the world, and they'd be out the door again. If they tried to stay a bit longer, I could pretend something was wrong with the till and I needed to fix it. Mahad and I often spent hours together in silence. It comforted me, and I think him.

I see it with young Marta next door. The boys say she is bolshy. ‘Where did you get that word from?' I asked them, and they said it's what their mother calls her. It seems her nickname in the family is ‘Doom and Gloom'. I look at her sometimes, standing among the rosebushes at the bottom of the garden, and I know she's not sulking, she's just being. But of course, the boys find her and think she's being bolshy. They threw a stone at her the other day. I told them later that if I caught them doing anything like that ever again, I'd arrange for Steve to whip them. I knew they worship Steve because one day when I was watching, I saw him take his top off so they could see his tattoos. They both nearly fell off the wall with excitement.

You were like Marta and me too, happy to enjoy your own company. I see it in your Nell too. I've been trying to make friends with her but she turns herself into a blank wall. Not like Robyn, who is all open doors in her enthusiasm. Strange, because she's the one who looks like she'd be the least friendly. Funny how easy it is to get the wrong impression. Did I tell you what her latest thing is? She's been on the Internet and found this site that tells her how to live without electricity and buying anything. She even came in the other day with all these plans and drawings she'd made for growing a house out of a tree. You pull the branches down and after about fifty years of watching it grow, you've got walls.

‘That'll be ready for when you're my age,' I said, and she laughed. She said that she and her dad always used to talk about things like that.

‘You could send it to him,' I said.

But she just shook her head. ‘Too much trouble,' she said. ‘I just like thinking about living in a tree.'

‘People not nature,' I reminded her. ‘When are you going to do another story?'

She's started to ask why didn't I want her talking about her poetry to George. She's too softhearted, I reckon, but I need to build up the relationship between her and me first. What we need is something we can do together, something George has no idea about but that will let me get to her mum too. I reckon the best route to Nell is through her daughter. Mums and daughters, eh? You should know, love.

And now I have to go to make it up to Florence Oliver. I was a bit short with her earlier on account of her going on and on about some pen pal's family, and now I'm feeling remorseful. She just needs to be a bit more pushy with George if she's going to have an impact on him. We need a bit of luck. Don't fancy waving your magic dust our way, do you, love?

M

66.
postcard from florence oliver to lizzie corn

Dear Lizzie,

I thought you might like this photograph of Princess Di's grave for your Royal collection. I hope you don't already have it. Just to let you know your ‘Plan' has worked. I'll say no more now, but wish me luck.

Flo

67.
email from nell baker to angie griffiths

Nope, of course I won't tell Dad about the baby. What do you think I am, stupid? But what do you mean you haven't decided what to do? Surely you're going to have it. Can I call you?

68.
answer phone message from antoine dupert's studio to angie griffiths

Madame Griffiths, this is Antoine's studio. Antoine has asked me to tell you that the photographs from your session are waiting for collection. Would you like us to send them to you? In which case, I would be grateful if you could call us with your address, which seems to be missing from our records.

69.
note from robyn baker to martin morris (left at pilgrim house)

Dear Martin,

I came to see you today, but Steve said you were in your room and I only had a few minutes in between lessons. Anyway, I wanted you to be the first to know because, guess what! I had a letter from
Open
magazine saying they want to publish one of my poems. It's one about a skylark. I got the idea from those paintings you told me about.

I know it's nature and you don't like that, but they said they wanted to see more too. Mum's going to be well pleased. I've put a copy in the envelope if you feel like reading it. I asked Steve to give this to you and I also made him promise not to tell Granddad as you said. When do you think I can? I know he told you that he didn't want to see me, but I'd love him to know I can do something good. I'll take out my piercing if you think that would help. Do you?

Rob

70.
answer phone message from george griffiths to angie griffiths

Hello Angie, or should I say Angie's machine. We're developing quite a relationship here, the machine and I. It's two thirty on Friday, and I fear I ring with some distressing news.

I have found the culprit for the petty thieving I have been enduring and it has come as a shock to me, as it will to you, that it is a family member. None other than Robyn. I looked out of the window of the sitting room earlier and saw her leaving Pilgrim House. However, when I went down to see whether she had left me a message, there was nothing and apparently she had not asked for me. Obviously I went straight to my room to carry out a thorough check and noted that two of the books on my windowsill had been knocked over. In addition, the book you gave me last Christmas,
The Dummy's Guide to Investment
, is missing. I have always presumed that the book was your idea of a joke, but kept it for sentimental reasons.

Obviously this book can be of no interest to her, so her hooliganism can only be a cry for help. I want Robyn to know that I know, and thus give her the chance to confess. I have always prided myself on being a fair-minded person, and am willing to let bygones be bygones.

It is quiet here today. Two of our residents, Catherine Francis and Helen Elliott, have taken to going out shopping together. I hope this will not be the start of cliques forming. I remember from work that female friendships could often end in tears as women have a natural tendency to become unstable and fall out with each other. However, it seems that the other residents have been asking for me to spend more time with them. Nell told me this, and to be honest it has come at just the right time. I will start to plan and form friendships in an orderly manner.

In fact, I have been thinking for some time that a Residents Committee could be just what is needed here, particularly as there have been many mishaps recently on the administration front. I have often found that firm structures and rules are the best way to maintain the peace we all so much deserve.

Your mother would often let a whole afternoon go by because she had become engrossed with a novel or a book of poems. When I retired, we established a rota of set mealtimes, fixed domestic duties, and leisure time. You, of course, were in France by then, but I think even your mother would admit that things in the house ran more smoothly when we followed my patterns. Sometimes she would be too tired to read in the evening and consequently, less plagued by the worries that could so often beset her.

Anyway, I will keep you informed of events.

Your father

71.
letter from martin morris to mo griffiths

Dear Mo,

When I was living on my own, I used to have your photograph out all the time. Now I can only put it up sometimes but I like to look at it when I write to you. Your hands are so tightly fisted by your sides that you look as if you want to punch me. Perhaps you did. ‘Take my photo,' you said that day in the studio. ‘But you'll not get me to take my clothes off.'

I wasn't used to a challenge like that. Most women who came to the studio were desperate to see themselves through someone else's eyes, even mine, and if they had to strip off, then so much the better. But you both wanted it and were scared of it. Were you frightened you might never be able to stop? I put my finger out then, do you remember, and I just touched your cheekbone. It was as if I was wiping away a tear, but you weren't crying, Mo. Not then anyw- oh blow, there's someone at the door.

*.

I'm back again. You'll never guess who that was. George. He's never come to my room before. I only just had time to slip your photograph back in the box before he walked in. He stood there for a moment. My heart was thumping in case he'd seen you, but he didn't. He must have seen the other pictures I'd piled on top of you, though.

‘Not a thing you forget,' he said, standing there as cool as a cucumber. ‘The sight of a naked woman.'

‘No,' I said, because I didn't know what else to say. We carried on saying nothing like that until he asked if I wanted to go for a walk with him. ‘With you?' I asked. I thought for a minute he knew something, and this was going to be our big confrontation. At last. Remember that letter I put through your letterbox, Mo? For the week after, I'd jump every time someone came to the door. I couldn't believe you wouldn't come to me, but I feared it might be him too. Fear and longing. The same feelings I think you had in the studio.