She had a patient-she explained-but would join us shortly. We were standing in a narrow passage with a steep staircase up to the first floor- amp; 2 doors to the right- amp; another at the far end-open to reveal a kitchen. Miss Lee slipped through the first door-presumably not wanting us to see some poor devil stuck with needles like a hedgehog! — amp; Tom led me through the next door-clearly very much at home.
I found myself wondering-this alternative medicine thing-does he try them all?
We were in a crepuscular living room-small 16th cent windows in walls a yard thick-bit of a change from bamboo amp; rice paper-or is that Japan? Couple of pictures on the wall-prints of Chinese art- amp; a framed professional certificate-in Chinese characters. No-I havent taught myself Chinese-alongside it in the same frame was what I presumed was an English version-telling the world that Yan Lee had earned her qualifications-with distinction-at the Beijing Institute of Acupuncture amp; Moxibustion! (You tell me-youre the familys medical expert!)
Tom settled into a dusty armchair-to read a dusty newspaper- amp; I wandered around-checking out the bookshelves. Us psychologists can tell a lot from bookshelves! Fiction mainly-chic lit-historical romances-couple of classics looking like they were lifted from school. Nonfiction limited to royal reminiscences- amp; Delia-plus-which I almost missed-a very tatty paperback-Teach Yourself Acupuncture. Set book from the Beijing Institute maybe?
Miss Lee reappeared as I was looking at it-so I quickly shoved it back into place- amp; hoped she hadnt noticed. Tom chitchatted for a moment or two about local matters-then started talking about my thesis-making me sound like an FRS on a WHO funded research project! Miss Lee listened-then said-so you would like to talk to my patients to see if I really do them any good physically? I said-no-I would like to talk to those whose physical improvement is undeniable-with a view to understanding the mental processes involved. I have no interest in passing judgment on the status of acupuncture as medical therapy-
She gave me a little smile-like she didnt believe a word of it- amp; said-OK-Ill have a word with a couple of them-see what they think- amp; get back to you-now I must get back to work-
After that Tom whipped me round his aromatherapist-middle aged Madonna look-alike-his reflexologist-like an undertakers receptionist-pallid complexion-black skirt amp; top-probably a Goth in her teens amp; couldnt yet afford to upgrade-his herbalist-funny little man with a young-old face-would have made a good Lord of the Rings elf. All happy to help me-after consulting patients first of course-Tom very persuasive-or-more likely-they see Toms enthusiasm for a complementary therapy center at the manor as their route to fame amp; fortune-so what he wants-he gets!
(Cynical? Moi? A lifelong beleiver its love makes the world go round? Love of self-or love of money-of course!)
Tried to see Toms homeopath but he was laid up with a bad cold.
— maybe hes treating himself for pneumonia-I said.
Tom thought this was very funny-once hed worked it out- amp; insisted on repeating it to everyone else we encountered-adding Wildean wit to my other talents. He was still chortling as he led me into the Hope amp; Anchor-the pub wed left Mr. Deal heading for. Wouldnt have surprised me to find him still drinking there after what dad said about him-but no sign of him among the tourists eating bar snacks in the main bar-nor in the smaller room we turned into. No food here-just four or five men drinking pints- amp; one leaning on the bar-in close confab with the barman.
Tom introduced me to them. Barman was Alan Hollis-the landlord- amp; the other was Hollis too-Hen Hollis-the disaffected sibling-who was the 1st guy Id met clearly not a fan of Toms. Must see him as tarred beyond redemption with the Denham brush! Talking of tarred-this miserable old sod looked like hed not been near a bathtub since his 21st. If theres any family resemblance-Lady D must have been mighty releived when the pigs et hubby Number 1! Sorry. Shouldnt judge by appearances-specially in my line of work-but hes one of those long rangy guys-mean little eyes in a small narrow head- amp; a beard that made Mr Godleys look like it had been worked on by Errol Douglas-full of crumbs from the crisps he was stuffing between his sharp yellow teeth. Like a ferret on stilts-I thought- amp; he didnt like the look of me either-glowering at me like I was the whore of Babylon-I wish! — before he banged his glass on the bar- amp; left.
Landlord Alan is v different-midthirties-not bad looking-easy to talk with-hard to believe hes related to horrible Hen-no physical resemblance-hes one of those steady calm-looking guys-the sort you want to see slipping into the pilots seat when the aircrew all go down with e-coli-while Hen looks like hes on friendly terms with most known bacilli! But cant choose your relations-can you? As we well know!
The seated drinkers were fine too. Tom introduced me round-but I only really registered one of them-a man in a wheelchair. Hes called Franny Roote- amp; Tom made a big point of him being one of his alternative therapists.
Then Tom said-but shouldnt you be up at the hall-lunching with Lady D?-
Thats when it struck me with a shock-this was who Esther Denham meant when she said the legless wonder. What a cow!
— cant have a private life in Sandytown-said Franny-quite right Tom-but not for another ten minutes or so- amp; I much prefer the presence of new beauty to the prospect of old pork-
Gave me a big grin as he spoke-big attractive grin-so-telling myself Id better check if his kind of therapy fitted into my research area-I plumped myself down next to him- amp; we got talking-while Tom got deep into some consortium matter with a couple of the others.
Interesting guy-this Roote-something about him thats different- amp; I dont just mean the wheelchair-something about the way he looks at you- amp; the way he talks. I found myself telling him all about me amp; my plans-not just me either-but you amp; George amp; Adam amp; Rod amp; the twins amp; mum amp; dad amp; the farm-OK-might be a line-but made me feel he was really interested-gives off a real sense of power-like theres nothing he cant do-sexy too-though maybe being paralyzed from the waist down means there is something he cant do? — need a bit of professional guidance here sis!
Youll be thinking I must be really frustrated-going on about Teddy the hunky bart- amp; now Fran the dishy paraplegic! Could be Toms right- amp; theres something in the Sandytown sea breezes that gets the red corpuscles bubbling-but I know that really my interest is purely professional-Ive given men up-remember!
Finally I got him talking about himself-fascinating-though as far as my research is concerned I soon realized Franny doesnt fit in at all. His thing is 3rd Thought-have you heard of it? I recall in my 1st year at uni going to a talk given by a guy called Frère Jacques-in dads terms very much a daft bugger! — who founded the movement. Lots in it about modern living making us lose touch with death-the need to establish a hospice of the mind- amp; a lot of similar gobbledygook which us smart 1st year psych students all rubbished like mad-but the guy himself was gorgeous-had an aura- amp; a lovely ass. Frannys the same-except his aura aint pure white like Frère Js-more shot silk-changing amp; mysterious- amp; I didnt get the chance to check out his ass! Anyway-thing is-with 3rd Thought theres no physical therapy involved-no taking up your bed amp; walking-not surprising really-guy in a wheelchair isnt likely to get far promising miracle cures. So-nothing here for me-except-I really enjoyed talking to him- amp; including him in my research gives me a good excuse for doing it again! So we ended by exchanging mobile nos amp; email addresses before he went off to Big Bums.