Getting The Picture (22 page)

‘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 come 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?

Dad's ankle is less swollen now, and he's looking forward to seeing you. Robyn's perked up too. She's been seeing more of James, and Steve at Pilgrim House has taken her under his wing to help run this youth club of his. It gives me a bit more time. I'd like you to meet Mark.

Nell

167.
answer phone from george griffiths to angie Griffiths

Hello Angie,

This is your father talking to your machine. Wretched ankle. It spoiled the whole evening for us, but Florence has been a saint. She says she has an ulterior mission to get me ready for dancing again, and I must say I might rather look forward to it.

Mind you, I wonder what it would be like to go to Buenos Aires. It's such a shame your mother never liked to travel, but we had some good holidays in Bethington, didn't we?

Actually, Angie, I never really liked it there. The sea was always so cold, and the only advantage I could see was that it was miles from anywhere. No one we knew had ever heard of it, but your mother said that was what she liked.

I'm not speaking ill here, Angie. She was a marvellous mother. We were all so lucky.

The doctor says I should be walking fine by the time you come. All I need is a bit of rest. Poor Martin is blaming himself. He has made a big speech about spending some time with me later this afternoon. He says he has something to show me.

And this has been your father.

168.
letter from florence oliver to lizzie corn

Dear Lizzie,

And you thought you had miseries. I wish my life was over.

Why do I always persist in thinking I am the type of person good things can happen to? Didn't Graham always tell me how I spoiled things?

Martin has shown George those photographs he took of me.

‘Why did you do that?' I asked him. I'd gone to take George a nice cup of tea because he can't move far after his accident, and Martin was just coming out of the room. I'd not even seen the photographs yet but I must admit when he told me and I saw the envelope in his hand, I wanted to pull it from him and burn them all without looking. It felt so stupid. I tried to remember the shoot, but now I couldn't think of that strong woman looking back at the camera. All I could think about was slipping off my blouse to show my back.

What will George think of me?

‘I thought it might cheer him up,' Martin said, ‘but he just wants to be left alone.'

I went to go past Martin into George's room, but Martin stopped me. ‘He particularly doesn't want to see you,' he said.

I spilled the tea then. Left the cup on the floor and the liquid blooming into a stain on the carpet. I ran back here and lay down on the bed. I've only just managed to get up. I shall have to leave, of course. I can't bear how Catherine and Helen will look at me. And Robyn and Nell too. Just as we were getting on so well. And I've no sons to buy expensive kitchen equipment and keep my place.

George particularly didn't want to see me. As if I'm shameful. But when Martin was taking the photographs, it didn't feel like that, Lizzie. It didn't feel dirty or stupid or anything bad. It felt like my last chance to prove that life was still worth living.

Well, it's not now.

We shall have to go to Bournemouth and cry together. Two old women no one else wants.

How did we mess everything up so? Perhaps we needed Graham and Frank to keep us in order more than we thought.

It's that which hurts more than nearly everything.

Yours aye,

Flo

169.
letter from martin morris to mo griffiths

Dear Mo,

The last few months here, surrounded by memories of you, have been the happiest of my life and now with Angie coming, it looks set to get even happier. I should have trusted you all along. It's as if you sent me here to find out about Angie, and give us a final chance to be together.

And I appreciate that, angel.

I just wish I could feel a bit more enthusiastic about it. I sit in my chair for hours at a time, not even getting the old photographs out. Not even writing to you properly on paper. Just in my mind. Telling you again and again everything that we've been through together. From the minute you walked into my studio and told me I wasn't going to get your clothes off.

I bet Florence is wishing she'd kept to that. You didn't think I'd let her have George, did you? Everything would be working out perfectly if it wasn't for all the fuss and attention George is getting with his stupid food. Somehow I wasn't expecting that.

M

170.
note from claude bichourie to angie griffiths

Dear Angie,

The lawyer has passed on your recent communication and, even despite your increasingly strange behaviour, I am at a loss to understand what is happening. Are you now saying this child is not mine? Do you have proof of this? You understand that these are not matters that can be treated purely emotionally, I hope.

I will come to your flat this afternoon to discuss this with you. Please be there this time. You are no longer a child who can run away from difficult situations.

Claude

171.
email from nell baker to angie griffiths

Nope, your letter didn't come this morning either, but I can't go to Martin's room and hunt around for some papers you say might be there. Who do you think I am? First Robyn gets caught stealing from him, and then me. People will really start to think we've gone mad. And what would I be looking for? Honestly, Angie, you will have to tell me more.

172.
note from florence oliver to george griffiths

(attached to the file containing the residents committee minutes)

Dear George,

I know you don't want to see me, and I can understand why, but I am a silly woman and not a bad one.

I have never had pictures like that taken of me before. The only other person to see me naked was my husband. And that's why, if you can imagine, I wanted to have it done once. Just to see what it felt like.

Well, I know now.

I am returning the minutes from the Residents Committee meetings. I am presuming you will no longer want me as secretary.

Florence

173.
answer phone message from nell baker to angie griffiths

OK, this one time I will do it. But you can't keep hiding, Angie. You will have to explain everything soon.

174.
note from robin baker to steve jenkins

Hey Steve,

Granddad has asked me to let you have the minutes of the Residents Committee. He says he's too tired to do it anymore, but he said to tell you, and I quote, ‘Mrs. Oliver has proved herself to be exceptional at organization.' Coming from Granddad, that's almost a declaration of love!

Rob

175.
letter from martin morris to mo griffiths

Dear Mo,

So it seems you are not the only member of your family who can't leave me alone. I came back to my room this morning to find Nell here, looking anxious.

‘Are you waiting for me, dear?' I asked, but I was trying to sneak a glance under the bed at the same time, to check nothing had been disturbed. You know what I am like about people snooping around me. It wasn't the same as when I caught Robyn because that was all part of my plan.