More to Mary than meets the eye. When Tom started rattling on about Kyoto House-inviting her agreement that it was in every way superior to the old Parker family home theyd swapped it for-she replied dutifully-I suppose youre right dear-but the old place did have such a pleasant garden- amp; so sheltered-
— yes-thats it entirely-he declared-as if shed confirmed everything hed said-It was indeed sheltered-from the benefits of the sea breeze- amp; sheltered from the veiw too-no outlook save for fields amp; trees! Now-from Kyoto up on North Cliff-on a clear day you can see halfway across to Holland- amp; when Im working out ideas for the development scheme I dont need to sit at my drawing board-I just go into my garden amp; look down amp; there it all is at my feet-as it were!-
— did you design Kyoto yourself? — I asked.
— naturally! — marvelous feeling-not having anyone looking over your shoulder at the drawing board-do you follow? The opportunity afforded me by the consortium-of getting involved in planning amp; building on a large scale-was not the least of its attractions. Its going to be something new-I promise you-nothing piecemeal or accidental-every step carefully thought out-every detail pertinent amp; planned! — amp; a carbon footprint no bigger than a cats!-
The quality of light ahead was now giving promise of the sea. Against the intense blue sky I could see the rather sinister silhouette of a large house-more than a house-a mansion-with enough towers amp; turrets to give the impression it had had youthful ambitions to grow into a castle!
— Denham Park-said Tom.
— where Lady Denham lives? — I guessed.
— oh no. She lives at Sandytown Hall-he replied-which her first husband-Hollis-acquired-along with the Lordship of the Sandytown Hundreds-an ancient traditional rank-acquired by purchase-unlike her subsequent title-
It sounded to me like shed got that by purchase too- amp; I think I detected a little twitch from Mary. Us psychologists are v sensitive to twitches!
— the Denham property-Tom went on- amp; the baronetcy of course-went to her nephew-in-law-Edward-
Here our conversation was interrupted-wed been driving with the sunroof open-to get the full benefit of the invigorating Sandytown air I presume- amp; suddenly-in an instant-the car filled with the most disgusting smell imaginable.
Pig shit! — on a huge scale-it made our slurry lagoon seem like a rose bowl!
Mary hit the button to close the sunroof-apologizing profusely.
— the Hollis pig farm-she said-except calling it a farm is an insult to real farmers!-
— now now my dear-said Tom mildly-its a natural smell- amp; nothing natural is harmful to man-
— nothing natural about the way they keep those poor animals-said Mary.
— intensive farming is the price we pay for not wanting to pay the price we would have to pay without it-said Tom- amp; its very rare that the wind is in a quarter which wafts the aroma into Sandytown-
— indeed no! — said Mary-which is why Daphne Brereton spent most of her time at her first husbands house-even after shed married her second!-
Yes-I know-mysterious! — but all will be explained later. Meanwhile we drove for a mile or more alongside a high wired fence through which I could see rows amp; rows of concrete buildings with all the charm of a concentration camp. Finally we reached the main entrance to the site-with a huge double gate- amp; a sign reading HOLLIS’S HAM-THE TASTE OF YORKSHIRE-except that someone had been at work with a spray can- amp; it now read-THE TASTE OF DEATH.
There was a man up a ladder with a bucket amp; scrubbing brush. He paused in his work as we passed amp; gave a wave. Tom wound down the window amp; called-Morning Ollie! More trouble, eh? — but Mary didnt slow down enough to give the man time to reply- amp; Tom closed the window again but not before wed got another near fatal dose of the porky pong!
A few minutes later Mary signaled to turn seaward as we approached a sign saying SANDYTOWN VIA NORTH CLIFF.
Tom said-my dear-why dont you take us round by South Cliff- amp; through the town-so Charlotte can give us her reactions-first impressions are so important-
Obediently Mary switched off the signal amp; drove on.
I didnt correct Tom about first impressions. Diplomatically I hadnt mentioned the famous excursion. Now I began to see for myself what Tom-of course-had already told me-that Sandytown-originally just a fishing village-is situated in a broad bay between two lofty headlands-North Cliff amp; South Cliff.
A loop of road runs down from North Cliff-through the village-then up to the coastal road again-via South Cliff.
Got that? — or do you need a diagram!-
As we approached the South Cliff turnoff-I could see the headland here was dominated by a complex of buildings. One of them looked like an old mansion house-green with ivy-with a long extension-in keeping but definitely recent. A couple of hundred yards away was a modern two storied building-the stonework brilliant white-broad reflective glass windows catching the drift of small white clouds across the bright blue sky. Alongside that-a long single storied building-in the same style.
We turned off the coast road-but before we began the descent proper-at Toms request Mary pulled in by a gilded entrance gate-set in a dense thorn boundary hedge-bit like the entrance to heaven in that Pilgrims Progress you got for a Sunday School prize-remember? — we used to tear pages out to roll our ciggies!
A large elegantly designed signboard was inscribed WELCOME TO THE AVALON FOUNDATION. There was a small gatehouse from which a man emerged-his face breaking into a smile when he recognized the car.
— Morning Mrs Parker-Mr Parker-he called.
— Morning Stan-replied Parker-How are things? Family well?-
— Yes thank you-all middling well. Yourself?-
— in the pink Stan-said Parker-which was either a bit of an exaggeration-or Mr Godleys healing hands really had done the business.
As they talked-I studied a site diagram beneath the welcome sign. It indicated that the main two storied modern block was the Avalon Clinic-the long single story was the Avalon Nursing Home- amp; the old house was the Avalon Convalescent Home.
A phone attached to the gate mans belt bleeped. He excused himself amp; turned away to answer it.
I said to Tom-how do the locals like having the clinic on thier doorstep?-
— some initial unease-lots of loose talk about lunatics amp; lepers-Tom replied-country folk are ready to believe the worst of strangers-but they also have an innate trust in authority. Round here that means Lady D amp;-to a lesser extent-myself. Once we showed the way-they followed- amp; suspicion has long been replaced by pride-
— the jobs amp; the extra income helped-observed Mary dryly.
The gate man was saying into his phone-no definitely not-nobody in the last hour-yes-Ill keep an eye out-dont imagine hell go far dressed like that!-
He switched off-turned back to the car amp; said-sorry Mr Parker-one of our convies has gone walkabout-elderly gent-might be a bit confused-Id best bring his photo up on the computer. See you soon I hope-
— you too Stan-said Parker.
Mary set the car forward. Ahead the road began its descent to the village.
— Convies? — I said-thinking convicts!
— what? — Oh thats what the staff call those staying at the convalescent home. Patients at the clinic are clinnies- amp; residents of the nursing home are rezzies. What they call the staff I dont know-Mary-take care!-
Mary Parker-as I have said-drove very carefully- amp; shed stayed in low gear for the descent-so we werent doing much more than twenty miles an hour when she slammed the brakes on.