Death in Leamington (29 page)

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Authors: David Smith

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BOOK: Death in Leamington
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And just what do you think you are planning to do with Mr Smee, Tinkerbell? Can I remind you there’s a rather sensitive young lady in the room?’ asked Alice, pointing at Carrie. Izzie smiled; she was now stroking Penn’s beard and landed a huge kiss on his cheek, screwing up her nose.

‘Well, Peter appears to have deserted me for the evening for you, pretty lady, so I’ve got to make do with the next best thing,’ she replied.

‘Hello Alice, and a very happy birthday from both of us,’ said Penn as he kissed Alice’s cheek. There was a loud cough behind them.

‘Ah, the Darlings have arrived,’ announced Captain Hook. Julia and Delia, dressed as Wendy and Nana, entered the room and gave Alice a big hug. Julia kissed them on both cheeks.

‘Alice, come with us into the garden,’ said Julia, her request echoed by woofs from Delia in her Nana costume. ‘There’s someone else I want you to meet.’

*

They passed through the French windows onto the balcony, which was festooned with garlands of flowers. In the planting on the terrace there were lights of every colour and candles in little saucers leading off into the undergrowth. Pink flamingos had been planted in the lawn in the form of a croquet game. A model pirate ship was becalmed on the goldfish pond and strung through the large fig tree were little fairy lights and playing card ornaments. Julia and Delia led Alice along the winding path made by the candles across the lawn to the far end of the garden, where there was a small gazebo, filled with cushions and lit by Arabian-style pierced lanterns. There was a big sign hung above the entrance –
The Blue Caterpillar’s Hookah Palace
.

In the corner of the gazebo, sitting on a cushion shaped like a mushroom, was a very blue-looking caterpillar, smoking the advertised hookah. He puffed three times and then took the pipe out of his mouth and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.

‘So, who are you, little girl?’

‘Alice,’ she said, flirting just a little bit with her hands and eyelashes.

‘Well come and sit beside me, little Alice,’ said the caterpillar, smoothing off the cushion for her to sit on. ‘May I offer you a drink?’ he asked, pouring her a huge glass of champagne. She obeyed and sat down beside him, turning back to look from the garden to the house that was all lit up.

She sighed and announced meaningfully, ‘If only you weren’t so blue, my sweetheart Hugh.’ They sipped their champagne with the Flyte sisters while the revels got going throughout the garden. There was the sound of more laughter from the house.

‘This is nice,’ she said to the caterpillar. ‘I’m feeling very happy. All of my friends are here, a lovely party and a sweetie caterpillar too. What more could a girl want?’

She noticed that the Flyte sisters had disappeared. From the direction of the balcony she began to hear the sound of instruments being tuned up, and then from the open drawing room door she caught a rich and clear voice singing faintly at first and then building more strongly. It sounded like a Negro Spiritual in the sweet night air. She realised it was Pearl Taylor, accompanied in delicate harmonies by Julia and Delia. Eddie was playing keyboards softly and Penn and Bas were playing their acoustic and bass guitars to the restrained and soulful tune.

Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen

Nobody knows but Jesus
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah!
Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down
Oh, yes, Lord
Sometimes I’m almost to the ground
Oh, yes, Lord
Although you see me going
’long so
Oh, yes, Lord
I have my trials here below
Oh, yes, Lord
If you get there before I do
Oh, yes, Lord
Tell all my friends I’m coming to Heaven!
Oh, yes, Lord

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, Traditional song from the
Overture to Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast

When she had finished, Alice whooped and clapped as loudly as she could, while the other guests all joined in the applause. Pearl bowed to them and started to sing ‘Happy Birthday’. Then Mad Jack (dressed as the Hatter) accompanied by Dan the bulldog got up from their chair at the Hatter’s table and called to the crowd.

‘Anyone for the Lobster Quadrille?’

Eddie started into a wild jig on his violin.

‘It must be a very pretty dance,’ said Alice timidly.

‘Would you like to see a little of it?’ said the Mock Turtle.
‘Very much indeed,’ said Alice.

Lewis Carroll,
Through the Looking-Glass

‘OK, people,’ shouted Professor Baxter, who was dressed as a cowboy. ‘I need you to form a square with four couples. Miss Taylor, will you do us the honour of being the first ninepin? Please stand in the middle.’ She nodded, familiar with this kind of dancing from her childhood.

Dottie and Penny, Penn and Izzie, Hunter and Julia and Delia and Sergeant Jones formed up into pairs, with Pearl standing in the middle of the circle.

‘OK, the four couples should all join hands and circle to the left around the ninepin using eight slip steps, then eight steps back to the right to their starting positions.’ They obediently followed Baxter’s instructions, giggling as they turned in their circles.

‘OK, that’s good. Next, the first couple, that’s you Dottie and Penny, gallop in hold past ninepin and then back the other side to your original place, followed by each of the other three couples in turn. Ninepin then swings each man in turn and his partner joins ninepin to jig in the centre. Finally, ninepin and the four women circle left and keep circling until the music stops. The one who then fails to grab a male partner becomes the new ninepin. Simple!’

*

Later that evening, Penn took Izzie by the hand for a walk amongst the shadows of the garden, towards the little fountain on the terrace.

‘Look at the moon,’ said Izzie. ‘Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t that what they call a harvest moon?’


Inviting us to stay, for the clouds to fly us away.

‘Maybe,’ she said, holding his hands closely against her waist. ‘I’m so glad I went down into the park to see who was singing there that night, you know.’

‘So am I,’ he said, kissing her. She let go of him and danced a slow passacaglia around the pond, twirling her silk scarf around her as she twisted and turned in the moonlight. When she had finished she sat opposite him, wrapping her legs around his thighs so that he couldn’t escape.

‘So, Tinks, have you heard of the author Washington Irving?’ he asked. ‘He was one of Warwickshire’s most famous writers.’

‘I’ve heard of him, of course, but why Warwickshire? I thought he was American?’

‘That’s a common but understandable mistake, of course.’

‘You do mean the
Rip Van Winkle
Washington Irving, don’t you?’

‘Yes, the very same, I doubt if there’s another author with such a strange name. He was a truly remarkable man, you know, an inventor amongst other things of the Columbus flat Earth theory, Santa Claus, Gotham, the New York Knicks, Sleepy Hollow, the headless horseman and by fact a resident of Birmingham, when it was still part of Warwickshire, for several years.’

‘OK clever clogs, so what about him?’ she said, passing her foot onto his stomach.

‘Well, I’ve got some news,’ he said and then waited, saying no more.

‘You can’t just leave it at that you tease, what sort of news?’

‘I just heard today that I got the part to play Ichabod Crane in the new Fox TV pilot. We’re filming in North Carolina.’

‘Wow,’ she said, ‘that’s fantastic!’ Her face darkened a little, realising the inevitable implication that he would be leaving her in England.

‘So I wondered whether you might be interested in coming to America with me.’

‘You’re joking, me go to America?’

‘Why not?’

‘Are your sails going to be black?’

‘Of course!’

‘Then of course I’ll come, my darling Tristan Penn, I’ll come with you to look for America any day of the week,’ and she leaned over to hug him, pushing him to the ground in excitement.

*

And the ancient Arrow-maker

Paused a moment ere he answered,
Smoked a little while in silence,
Looked at Hiawatha proudly,
Fondly looked at Laughing Water,
And made answer very gravely:
‘Yes, if Minnehaha wishes;
Let your heart speak, Minnehaha!’

And the lovely Laughing Water

Seemed more lovely as she stood there,
Neither willing nor reluctant,
As she went to Hiawatha,
Softly took the seat beside him,
While she said, and blushed to say it,
‘I will follow you, my husband!’

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
The Song of Hiawatha

In another corner of the garden two somewhat older lovers held their glasses touching in the fresh night air. One was the former Wild West hero, Poshizmo Baxter; the other was his Native American Princess, Minnehaha (Dottie) Baker. After his earlier exertions calling the folk dancing, Baxter had demonstrated his lasso techniques to his friends for a while on the lawn, before singing a number of western campfire songs. He was now sitting tired, happy and somewhat philosophical under a mulberry tree, watching Izzie and Penn rolling and laughing together in the grass.

‘You seem pensive my dear, are you tired?’ asked Dottie

‘Not really. I was just thinking about a novel I am planning, after the last month or so I think I have more than enough material. I think those two might make good lead characters.’

‘That one in particular. He looks just like you used to when you were younger, my little Poshizmo; blonde, blue-eyed and red-cheeked,’ said Dottie.

‘Are you sure? That was such a long time ago and we have seen a lot of water go under the bridge since then.’

‘Absolutely, you could be father and son.’

‘Maybe, but there’s something else on my mind too. Let me ask you something, Dottie?’ he said seriously. ‘Do you still have time in your life for a sad old lost boy like me?’

‘Well yes, Mr Baxter, I think I’ve still got time for you.’

‘Ah, that’s good. So then I have something that I meant to give you years ago, but the time never seemed quite right until now.’

He opened up a small box and passed it to her. The jewel on the gold band inside was not large, but it was big enough for the rest of their lifetimes.

‘Baxter, what’s that?’ she said, genuinely taken aback.

‘It’s a ring of course. So will you?’ he asked again nervously. She kissed him full on the lips

‘Of course I will, you silly old thing.’

And they said, ‘O good Iagoo,

Tell us now a tale of wonder,
Tell us of some strange adventure,
That the feast may be more joyous,
That the time may pass more gayly,
And our guests be more contented!’
And Iagoo answered straightway,
‘You shall hear a tale of wonder,
You shall hear the strange adventures
Of Osseo, the Magician,
From the Evening Star descending.’

Samuel Coleridge-Taylor,
Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast

*

Toward the end of the evening when Lady Mary and the Reverend George Dore returned from their honeymoon, they were astonished to see the staid formality of the house transformed by such high jinks.

‘What an excess of silliness,’ said the reverend, smiling but quietly worrying about the expense of it all.

‘For heaven’s sake, George, it will be you in the doghouse if you don’t join in the fun,’ replied Lady Mary with a scowl. She gave Alice and then her two daughters a big hug and reserved a special kiss for Eddie. ‘This kiss is shaped like you, Peter,’ she said with a wink.

‘Ah, my sweet Lady Mary,’ he replied. ‘But if you’ll excuse us for a moment.’

Eddie took Alice’s hand and she followed him out on to the balcony, shutting the doors behind them.

*

‘So, I hope you liked your surprise?’

‘You’re a scoundrel, Eddie, if this is what you and Julia were up to all this time. And to think I thought you two were…’

‘Sshh,’ he said, ‘not another word, you really should believe in me more in the future.’

‘Don’t push your luck, darling, you’re still a rascal, if a totally loveable one,’ she spoke from her heart, not wishing to spoil the moment.

‘Yes,’ he said, taking her by the waist and kissing her in a way that felt like they were ten years younger again. ‘I’m saving the best till later tonight.’

*

Across the lawn in the little gazebo, slightly merrier now, the blue caterpillar sat thoughtfully by himself on the mushroom, continuing to suck at his hookah pipe. Hugh was watching Eddie and Alice smooching together on the balcony from afar. He felt warm inside to see how happy they were again. Through the steam from his hookah water bath, he spotted Julia coming up to the little garden house to join him. She too was dressed prettily, holding up her gown with her hands, wrapping it around her legs against the dew of the grass.

‘Who are
you
?’ he asked in a languid, sleepy voice.

‘I – I hardly know, sir, just at present – at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have changed several times since then.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ said the Caterpillar, sternly. ‘Explain yourself!’

‘I can’t explain myself, I’m afraid, sir, because I’m not myself, you see.’

‘I don’t see,’ said the Caterpillar.

Lewis Carroll,
Through the Looking-Glass

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