A Cure for All Diseases

At the cottage – after a little delay – Miss Lee answered Toms knock. I was introduced – briefly. She did a little Chinese bob thing – like Pitti-Sing in the musical. She was wearing a sort of kimono – but close up her face looked a lot less oriental – more plastic than porcelain – & Id say the almond blossom complexion comes out of a jar. Her voice was pretty neutral – very precise – with the occasional Yorkshire vowel suggesting shed been around the county for some time.

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 – & 2 doors to the right – & 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! – & 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 & rice paper – or is that Japan? Couple of pictures on the wall – prints of Chinese art – & 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 & Moxibustion! (You tell me – youre the familys medical expert!)

Tom settled into a dusty armchair – to read a dusty newspaper – & 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. Non-fiction limited to royal reminiscences – & Delia – plus – which I almost missed – a very tatty paperback – Teach Yourself Acupuncture. Set book from the Beijing Institute maybe?

Miss Lee re-appeared as I was looking at it – so I quickly shoved it back into place – & hoped she hadnt noticed. Tom chit-chatted 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 – & said – OK – Ill have a word with a couple of them – see what they think – & get back to you – now I must get back to work –

After that Tom whipped me round his aroma-therapist – middle aged Madonna lookalike – his reflexologist – like an undertakers receptionist – pallid complexion – black skirt & top – probably a Goth in her teens & 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 centre at the Manor as their route to fame & 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 – & 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 & 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 – & one leaning on the bar – in close confab with the barman.

Tom introduced me to them. Barman was Alan Hollis – the landlord – & 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 – & 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 – & 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 – & left.

Landlord Alan is v different – mid thirties – 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 – & 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 – & 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 – & 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 – & I dont just mean the wheelchair – something about the way he looks at you – & the way he talks. I found myself telling him all about me & my plans – not just me either – but you & George & Adam & Rod & the twins & mum & dad & 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 paralysed 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 – & now Fran the dishy paraplegic! Could be Toms right – & 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 Frere 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 – & 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 – & a lovely ass. Frannys the same – except his aura aint pure white like Frere Js – more shot silk – changing & mysterious – & 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 & 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 – & including him in my research gives me a good excuse for doing it again! So we ended by exchanging mobile nos & email addresses before he went off to Big Bums.

Anyway thats it for now. Spent the afternoon – after a sandwich in the pub – meeting the rest of the inhabitants of Sandytown – every single one of them it felt like! – then back here to Kyoto. Quiet night in – reading – & hammering the kids at snap! Make sure you answer this one sis. Dont see why you should get the details of my wild life in Sandytown while all I get from you is a pregnant (?) silence. So – no prevarications – I want dirt – I want dimensions!

Love

Charley xxx

12 (#ulink_ef68159a-1840-5b69-aaa2-0e6c4d82bdae)

Hi! Still no word. Working on the Headbanger principle that the only thing that travels faster than bad news is crap through a goose – Ive not started worrying – yet!

Here excitement piles on excitement – not sure if Ill be able to bear much more!

Thats called irony by the way – just in case youve completely forgotten everything Mr big-Dickenson at the comp taught you in English – though I dont suppose you heard much of what he said – above the roar of your randy hormones!

First – Toms sister Diana turned up! None of the strong hints Id had about her oddness prepared me for the reality. Not bad looking – small & trim – full of words & fuller of energy – or so it seemed to me – though by her own – & Toms – account – she spends so much time lying at deaths door – she must be a real hindrance to his milkman!

Death must be on hold today – way she came bursting in at Kyoto like a small tornado.

– I am just arrived – she proclaimed – let me sit down – (which she did) – your raw sea air – a tonic I know for some – is too savage for my weak constitution. Where are the dear children – (jumping out of her chair) – I must see them at once – & this is Miss Heywood – I know you from Toms letters – my dear – its true Tom – a fine complexion – no trouble with your circulation – Tom – how is your ankle? – let me see – (here she knelt & pulled up her brothers trouser leg & folded down his sock) – looks fine to me – very little swelling – (not surprising as she was looking at the wrong ankle) – you say the Willingdene healer played a part? – an interesting acquisition – too late for me of course – years of misdiagnosis by incompetent MDs have put me beyond hope of healing – but I work tirelessly for others –

As I listened to Diana rattling on – I began to understand Toms preoccupation with alternative medicine. In his beloved sisters eyes – alternative was mainstream – she was into alternatives to the alternatives!

Finally Tom got a word in – asking where her luggage was – assuming she would be staying at Kyoto – causing Mary to wince before the polite smile formed – but relief was on its way.

– such was of course my intention – said Di – but as you know I have been ever industrious in singing the praises of Sandytown – Tom – & as you may have noticed – I have been instrumental in persuading a friend of mine – seeking a holiday destination for herself & her teenage neices – to choose Sandytown rather than one of the less salubrious resorts – so I thought I would drop in on her at Seaview Terrace to check that all was as perfect as I had promised –

– & was it? – asked Tom.

– alas no – she said – Unfortunately one of her neices had slipped while scrambling over some rocks on the shore – damaging her leg – not too seriously – but sufficient for her to wish to recuperate at home – & naturally her sibling went with her. I found Sandy – that is my freind – Mrs Griffiths – undecided whether to follow their example – or stay on by herself. Seeing the danger that her early return might start a rumour that Sandytown beach was unsafe – whereas the truth is – as you know Tom – we have some of the least slippery rocks on the east coast – I immediately offered my services – both as co-tenant – & as a conduit into the best circles of the district – both of which offers Mrs Griffiths – that is – Sandy – was delighted to accept. Beleive me – only my sense of responsibility for the good name of Sandytown – & by implication of yourself – Tom – would make me inflict this disappointment on you & Mary –

She looked for applause – which Tom gave her – while Mary managed to murmur something about typical kindness – & all I could think was – unaccountable officiousness!

Tom – full of brotherly concern for her frail constitution – insisted on driving her back down to the Terrace – with me invited along too – I suspect in my capacity of St J Ambulance trained physician – in case the shock of the sea air brought on a seizure!

Sandy Griffiths – even though introduced as a ‘vegan warrior’! – had no outward signs of the kind of dottiness I suspect must be a precondition of chumming up with Deaths Door Di. 40 something – strong handsome face – with a peculiarly disturbing stare – I thought she looked pretty good for someone who presumably existed on sprout fricassees & nut cutlets. She made us v welcome. Tea was produced – camomile for Diana – of course! – Typhoo for the rest of us – plus some v nice cream cakes – which Di thrust aside with shudder – declaring that one bite would be the death of her. All the more for me! I noticed that Sandy G had a nibble too – so not a total vegan! Nor – it seemed to me – a particularly close buddy of Dianas – which made me wonder how shed let herself be manoeuvred into having Di as her live-in guide. Tried some subtle probing – but Sandy G fixed me with her stare – so I backed off. Maybe being called Sandy makes her feel as proprietorial about Sandytown as Diana clearly does!

Tom clearly sees nothing but his sisters good points. He really is a sweetie. I find Im becoming as anxious as Mary that some people might be tempted to take advantage of his good-nature.

2 more excitements – then Im done. I dont want to risk over-stimulating you!

After we left the Terrace – driving back through the town – we saw Franny Roote hauling himself into his car. The ease with which he did it – reaching out to fold up his wheelchair & swing it into the back – suggested long practice – & my heart ached for him. OK – I know what youd say – all that stuff about handicapped people finding expressions of sympathy & offers of assistance patronizing – but I cant help it. Hes a young guy – & hes missing out on so much young guy stuff it breaks me up – so there!

Tom pulled alongside – & called – hello there Franny! – hows things –

– great – he said – giving me a big smile – & how are you – Charlotte?

– fine – I said – nice wheels.

Idiot thing to say – as it was a small boxy MPV – chosen – I guess – because the sliding doors made things easier.

– yes – he said – I dithered between this & the Porsche for a long time –

But he gave me a big grin – to show I hadnt really offended him.

Tom said – you wont forget the planning committee meeting at the Avalon on Friday –