Sing Like You Know the Words (44 page)

***

David was telling a story to
Evelyn and didn´t hear Matthew arriving downstairs.

The boy and the faery princess
met by chance as the princess was riding out in the woods near her
faery palace, on her favourite white pony. The boy and the princess
fell in love the moment they saw each other. The princess was
enchanted by the gentle brown eyes of the farm boy and the noble
spirit that she sensed under his rough appearance. The boy knew
that the princess was the most delicate and magical creature he
would ever see.

He agreed to steal her away from
the faery castle, but on the night they planned to escape they were
seen by the palace guards. In the struggle, the boy accidentally
killed the captain of the guard. He was brought before the faery
King in chains of silver.

The sentence of the King was
that the boy should be hung for his crime, but when the faery
princess heard this she cried so much that her father offered the
only compromise that their law allowed. If the princess agreed, he
would decree that the boy should be imprisoned in the palace for
twenty-one years and a day, and for that time the princess would be
banished from the palace and live among the mortals outside the
walls. Only once a year, on the anniversary of their crime, would
she be able to visit the boy at the faery palace.

The princess agreed, and once a
year she came back to the palace, bringing news of the boy’s
family, and all the things that were changing in the wide world.
There the princess met other handsome boys, but she stayed true to
her farm boy, even when men who had heard of her beauty came from
far and wide to woo her.

The years passed at the palace.
At first the boy was alone in the dungeon, but in time the King
became a regular visitor to his cell. The King missed his daughter
so badly, and the boy was the only person he could talk to about
her. Eventually the boy and the King became friends, joined by
their shared love of the princess, and they would ride out to hunt
together in the cold morning air of the forest, but the boy had to
be back at the palace before sunset or the penance would be
broken.

More years passed, and the boy
became a man, and though he remained human, he had learned the ways
of faery. He was happy to stay within the walls of the castle. He
had his own horses, hunting birds and hounds, and he had the free
use of the palace library that was full of interesting books, that
no-one else in the palace bothered with, because faeries are
extremely negligent regarding knowledge. But of course he still
longed for the day when he would be released from his sentence and
free at last to start his life with the beautiful princess who was
waiting for him in the cottage in the wood, on the other side of
the palace walls.

Eventually the day came,
twenty-one years and a day after his crime, and the princess came
to see him at the castle, as she had in all the other years, her
heart full of excitement because at last they would be
together.

The boy was now a prince of
faery himself, and as handsome a prince as any could remember
(because the years of the faery palace were different to human
years, so that he had barely aged). But when he looked at his
princess, he saw for the first time how much the years had changed
her. She was no longer slender and delicate, but plump and human
looking. The years of living in waiting had made her bad tempered,
and she was impatient with his faery manner of speaking, which was
in no ways plain and to the point, because at the palace it was
more important to express things in a correct and pleasing manner
than to explain clearly what you had to say.

The prince could still remember
the deep feelings that he had held for the beautiful princess, and
he knew that the dowdy woman who stood before him was that same
person he had held in his heart for so long. He tried to control
his emotions, reminding himself that he had loved her so much, and
telling himself that he must still do, even though she now seemed
to him only human and ordinary. When he thought back over their
meetings, once a year since his imprisonment, he could not remember
when she had begun to change, or when his love for the princess had
begun to fade.

The faery King came to meet them
in the drawing room of the palace, eager to see his missing
daughter again, and to discuss plans for the wedding. He seemed not
to notice the effects of time as he embraced his daughter with
great love. But the prince announced that he had bad news. He was
very sorry, but he no longer felt the same way about the princess.
They had grown in different ways while they were apart, he said,
and now there was a gulf between them that could not be crossed. He
suggested that it would be better if they both carried on their
separate lives, rather than spoiling the memory of what they had
enjoyed. He was sure that the princess would see it that way too,
in time. His own life was now at the palace.

In the next moment, as the room
began to spin away from the prince, he could see the faery King,
still embracing his daughter, but now she was again the young
princess he had first loved, impossibly slender and beautiful. The
next thing he knew, he was back in his old cottage in the woods,
lying on the floor of earth, in his rough clothes: but something
was different. He felt his face and looked at his hands. He had
become older. Twenty-one years had passed. And he was alone.

-David, dinner’s ready, what are
you doing?

Patricia came into the room with
her arms folded. He thought she looked tired. She was wearing an
old sweater and the leggings that he hated. He dimmed the light and
whispered.

-I was just finishing Evelyn´s
bedtime story

-She’s too young for your
stories.

-She likes the sound of them.
Children´s stories last for years. I´m making them for Evelyn now
so that she´ll grow into them later, when she can understand
better.

-Matthew´s here. He´s in a bad
way. Something´s happened between him and Amy.

Evelyn had already fallen
asleep. David switched on the audio monitor and they went
downstairs to dinner.

***

Weeks after the final words with
Amy, Matthew was still feeling alternately raw and numb. He´d
agreed with Jane that they should have some time apart. He was no
use to anyone in this condition. Matthew was not sure that he even
wanted to see Jane any more. His thoughts were taken up with his
own grief; and it seemed to want to turn to bitterness.

Matthew spent a few nights at
the Thomas´s. Later, he was there so much of the time that he may
as well have moved in. He was drinking too much again. Most nights,
David shared a glass with him, but David didn´t seem to be affected
by alcohol like other people. It was a time when David didn´t need
to be in London, and Matthew was glad. He didn´t want to be alone
with Patricia.

David seemed to have something
on his mind. Matthew waited to hear it. Soon David asked him what
he thought of a certain town councillor

-Joe Reilly? He’s alright I
suppose, not the sharpest tool in the box, but seems honest enough.
Not something you can take for granted, believe me. He’s been a
fixture on the planning committee for as long as anyone can
remember.

-That´s what I mean. Decent
enough, but chairman of the planning committee?

-Someone has to do the job. It
might as well be him as anyone else.

-It’s a very powerful role
Matt.

Matthew paused to consider
this.

-What are you thinking of
doing?

-The local men don’t like me.
They don’t trust me because I owe them nothing. And that damages
me. I need people I can rely on in my own home patch.

-I hope you’re not asking me to
stand for the council because there is absolutely no chance of
that.

-Relax; I already have someone
on the council.

-What Harold, are you
serious?

-He’s served for nearly two
years.

-Only because you forced him on
them. And Joe’s served for more than twenty years.

-Exactly, it’s time for some new
blood.

-You’d never get the old guard
to agree with you.

-Not if I went about it as you
would like me to; granted. If I go to them, state my case and ask
for a general session to debate the position. But that’s not how
things are done. They´re a feuding bunch down there; always falling
out with each other about who´s been overlooked or found their way
blocked. You know how it is; just a question of seeing how the
fault lines lay and knowing how to use them. Why are you looking at
me like that?

-I thought you were elected to
fight the Tories, not your own people.

-That’s right, but I can´t do
that effectively while I’m being held back at every turn by people
who think they should run everything just because they´ve been
around forever.

Matthew made no reply to this.
He felt at a disadvantage, in his friend´s house, enjoying his
whisky. He was presuming on David´s hospitality and he knew that he
was not good company at the moment.

-Why tell me about it?

-You report council meetings and
doings all the time. You could…

-No.

-I respect your moral scruples,
Matt. I wouldn’t be asking you…

-Good, nothing more to say
then.

Matthew was annoyed with
himself. David had asked him to do something that was wrong and he
was the one feeling wretched because he had refused.

Two weeks later, outside the
Council chamber, Matthew bumped into Joe Reilly, leaving a
committee meeting in a hurry. There had been no public
announcement, but a rumour was going round that Joe would be
stepping down at the coming local elections.

-Evening Joe.

-Mr Reilly to you

-What’s up with you?

-You know very well what’s up.
Your smarmy pal has fixed things up to get rid of me. Do you think
I was born yesterday?

-I don’t know much about it Joe.
I mean…sorry. There was some gossip about you retiring, but I
didn’t believe it.

-You wouldn’t credit it. Twenty
three years on the council and this is how they chuck me out.

-I’m sorry, really. Still you
know, twenty three years; it’s a good innings. I mean, no one can
go on forever. The places are not owned

-No, but your Mr Thomas owns
that pimpled little shit who is going to take my place doesn’t he?
If that’s the way it’s going to be, I tell you I’m glad to be
out.

Harold followed Joe out of the
chamber just as this exchange was ending. He was straightening the
bundle of papers that he carried. His expression was smug. Reilly
turned his back and strode off down the corridor. For once, Matthew
could not restrain himself and turned on Harold.

-Are you satisfied with what
you’ve got? Was it worth what you had to do to get it?

-Councillor Reilly has
understood that he wouldn´t have the support to hold on to his
seat. Better for everybody that he retires gracefully. I’m happy
for now, thank you.

-Harold grinned at him. The grin
naturally curled into a sneer.

-Do you really think that you
can make good happen by behaving in this way? Matthew asked
him.

-You poor tender hearted thing,
Harold replied. Last year we stopped two local schools from being
shut down. We got a commitment of funds from government to put a
new specialist wing on the city hospital. We’ve got transport and
housing schemes going through that will change people’s lives. Of
course we can’t make a big fuss about any of it, or else the press;
that’s you; will accuse us of socialism. But none of this would
have happened without your friend David or without people like me.
So yes, thank you very much for your concern; I can sleep well at
nights. What have you done for anybody but yourself lately?

-I just don’t see the point of
what you do Harold. You think so little of people that you can
trample on them, but you tell yourself you are doing it to make
them happy. How can that work?

-And I’m glad you don’t
understand. I’m not like you: drifting uselessly through life. I
got everything I wanted because I planned it from the start –
school, college, this job. Everything as I planned, because I took
control and made it happen.

-And now you’ve got all you
want?

-It’s coming to me.

-Then why do you never look
happy Harold? I‘ve never seen you with a genuine happy smile.

-Thanks for that, coming from
you Mr Jolly. Harold walked away.

Few tears were shed for Joe
Reilly. Many of the council and party members remembered how Joe
had made himself chairman of the planning committee in the first
place: those who didn´t were subtly reminded. There had to be a
dinner to thank him for his many years of service and to wish him
well in retirement. As a local MP it was natural that David should
make the presentation. Nothing was said publicly, but it did not
escape anyone’s attention that the old man who had been stabbed in
the back now had to shake the hand that had held the dagger. To see
this happen to Joe; the roughest and meanest of all of them, was
frightening. Joe Stalin they used to call him. Even he had not seen
it coming. If it could happen to him, it could happen to any of
them. Perhaps after all, it would be better to work with the new
lot rather than against them. At the end of the day, weren’t they
all trying to pull in the same direction? And you had to admit,
that David Thomas had a certain style about him.

Chapter Twelve

Somewhere in Africa, there was a
war going on. It was the normal state of things.

The escort took Hawkins to a
compound of single storey buildings that looked as if they had been
government offices in the days when there had last been a
government. The glare of the West African sun was at its most
pitiless. They all climbed out of the jeeps. The men were smiling,
in good humour; but Hawkins took no comfort in that. They were men
who could laugh as they slit throats, and this was not a happy
time.