He decided this were a joke and laughed like an accordion.
“I can see we’re going to get along famously,” he said. “Now, there’s something I’d like you to do for me.”
He pulled out this little shiny metal thing.
“I’m not swallowing that,” I said. “And if tha’s thinking of getting it into me by some other route, tha’d best think again.”
This time, mebbe because it were a joke, he didn’t laugh.
“It’s a digital recorder,” he said. “State of the art, practically works itself. What I’d like you to do, Mr. Dalziel, is keep a sort of audio diary. Make a record of your feelings, your experiences, anything that comes into your mind.”
“You mean, you want me to start talking to myself?” I said. “Like the nutters do?”
“No, no,” he said. “Not to yourself. Just talk as if you’re speaking to someone who knows absolutely nothing about you.”
“Like you, for instance?” I said.
He gave me a smile I could’ve played “Chopsticks” on and said, “I do in fact know a little about you. And I don’t want you to think you’re addressing me specifically. In fact, let me assure you, Mr. Dalziel, I will never listen to any part of it without your permission.”
“So if you’re not going to hear it, what’s the point?” I asked.
“The point is you saying things, not me hearing them,” he said. “You can keep a record of all those interesting little thoughts we so easily lose track of. Also you can ask yourself some of the really Big Questions. Think of it as part journal, part self-interrogation. I’m sure a man with your skills will be able to detect truth through no matter how cunningly woven a web of evasion and deceit. Will you do that for me?”
I said, “Mebbe. But if I don’t get some grub soon, I may just swallow it anyway.”
He went off, laughing. And that’s how I come to be lying here, talking to myself like a loony. Took another couple of days afore I dug Fester’s little toy out. Man in bed’s got to play with something. Nowt else to do. Newspapers these days aren’t fit to wrap chips in. Telly’s worse, and they don’t feed me enough grub to enjoy a good crap!
Can’t even do a runner. First, I’ve got no clothes. Spoke to Cap on the phone and she says she’ll bring me some soon as they let her visit me. Second, got to face it, my leg’s getting there, but I’m not back to running mode yet. I dumped them poncy elbow crutches they gave me at the hospital and got Cap to buy me a stout walking stick. I’m okay for short bursts, but after a couple of minutes, I’m ready for a sit-down.
Got to keep reminding myself, there’s a world out there, a real world with people in it, and pubs, and it’s likely full of scrotes pissing themselves laughing ’cos I’m stuck in here, talking to a machine.
Let them laugh.
I’ll be back.
Sure as eggs.
4
FROM: charley@whiffle.com
TO: cassie@natterjack.com
SUBJECT: an exciting journey!
Hi!
Nothing from you-maybe your teaky bronzy doc is keeping you busy-nudge nudge.
Ive made it to Sandytown-just finished unpacking in Kyoto House-built on a cliff top to catch all them healthy breezes-very eco-friendly-solar panels-wind driven generator-etc etc. Lovely room-looking out over the North Sea-all blue amp; sparkly just now-but I hope we get a storm before I go. Funny that-only other time I was here I prayed for warm sunshine-this time I want thunder amp; lightning!
The journey first-we stopped off at Willingdene as planned-to meet Gordon Godley-the healer.
I quite liked him-nutty as a fruitcake-but sort of nice with it.
Hard to say how old-45? 55?-not helped by a mad black beard threaded with silver-like a bramble bush on an autumn morning-but v young v gentle gray eyes-a nose like a flying buttress in a dolls cathedral amp; a lovely smile. I could see the unclaimed treasures of the area queuing up to have his hands laid on their aching joints.
Dont think he took to me though. Tom didnt help-introducing me with a version of my thesis proposal that made me sound like the witch-finder general-out on the rampage! Mr Godley wouldnt meet my eye-answered my questions with monosyllabic grunts-so I soon gave up.
However-he listened to Toms pitch with great courtesy-tho I got the impression-using my finely honed analytical powers-that in fact he already knew a lot more about the Sandytown project than he was letting on. In the end-to shut him up I think! — he accepted Toms invite to make a visit to see if he felt called to bring his ministry there-Toms dead keen to get him onboard for what he calls the Festival of Health-scheduled for Bank Holiday weekend-Ill be long gone-thank heaven!-
Finally-at Marys request-Gord laid his healing hands on the sprained ankle.
As we left Tom claimed his injury was much improved.
— I felt a warmth-he asserted-A definite warmth as from a powerful sunlamp-
Back in the car-out of earshot of Mr Godley-I observed that-in veiw of the nature of the injury-I would have been more impressed if hed felt a definite coldness.
He turned in his seat-hed wanted me to sit in the front-but I insisted he needed the space because of his ankle- amp; gave me a delighted smile amp; said-see Mary how good Charlotte will be for us. Scientific objectivity-thats what we want. No chance of charlatanism ruining the good name of Sandytown with her keen eye upon us!-
Im not sure what lasting effect the healers hands might have on the sprained ankle-but one thing I feel certain of-Tom Parkers optimism is incurable!
Mary drove well amp; very carefully. If shed been at the wheel I doubt theyd have ended in the tank trap. On the other hand I couldnt regret that they had. My acceptance of their invitation might have been made in pique-but now I found I was really looking forward to the visit. Dont know if Ill get much useful thesis fodder out of it-after my start with Godly Gordon I guess Ill need to brush up my interviewing techniques-but being cast in the role of detached scientific observer tickled my fancy.
Like a camera-I will record- amp; not judge.
Or maybe Ill judge just a little! I am after all Steve Heywoods daughter.
Difference being-Ill keep my judgments to myself!
amp; you-of course!
Short break there.
Eldest kid-Minnie (= little Mary)-burst in to say lunch would be ready in 20 mins- amp; see if Id got everything I needed. Gave the impression shed been sent-but I suspect it was mainly her own idea-to check out the new fish! She talked nonstop-while her eyes gobbled everything up-especially my laptop. Shes 9 going on 90-reminds me of me at that age. Havent been bothering much with security-but now I may reactivate my password!
Got rid of her-by main force! — after a couple of minutes-so now I can get to the really exciting bit of the journey here-so pay attention!
Even at Marys steady pace it wasnt a long drive-but long enough for me to learn a little more about the Parkers. Old Yorkshire family-made their money in building-Tom trained as an architect-offices in Scarborough but siezed the opportunity offered by mod tech to work from home-4 kids-Minnie 9-Paul 8-Lucy 6-Lewis 5-apples of his eye-Marys too-but Tom comes first. I get the impression she doesnt like letting him take off alone-not cos she dont trust him sexually-but cos she worries what scrapes his enthusiasm might get him into! Like driving into the tank trap-I suppose!
He talked-with great affection-of his financier brother Sidney-younger- amp; invalid sister Diana-older. Without saying much-Mary gave the impression she has a few reservations about Sid in the City- amp; a whole bucketful about sister Di!