Part 27 (1/2)
This did have to be explained to the Byrons, who rarely paid any attention to the actual 'news' pages of newspapers.
So, continued Ada, she would require an advance on her bridal dowry to purchase necessary necessities. George needed more sober apparel to visit his publisher. And she, much as it would not have bothered her to do so, could not not walk the streets of London clad only in vest and corset and bloomers. walk the streets of London clad only in vest and corset and bloomers.
A sharp intake of breath had been occasioned upon the part of the Byrons with the coming of the words 'bridal dowry'. Ada added that naturally such a bridal dowry amounted to little more than a very very short-term loan, as much of George's short-term loan, as much of George's large large publis.h.i.+ng advance would be lavished upon his new family. publis.h.i.+ng advance would be lavished upon his new family.
A Byron named Lord Billy finally wrote out a cheque.
A Byron named Lady Elsie gave Ada the loan of a frock.
A day or so later, George and Ada took tea at the famous Ritz. An announcement of their forthcoming marriage had been posted within the society pages of The Times The Times newspaper and George had borrowed money from Ada's dowry to buy her an engagement ring. Nothing of outrageous price, but a pretty thing in itself. newspaper and George had borrowed money from Ada's dowry to buy her an engagement ring. Nothing of outrageous price, but a pretty thing in itself.
George and Ada sat in the elegant tea pavilion of the Ritz, which was furnished in the Oriental style: black lacquer, white enamel, chinoiserie and dainty chintz.
George wore a dark and elegant morning suit that had been paid for in cash from a tailor that George had not previously visited. Ada wore the most delightful confection of rich dark-red velvet. Full skirt with bustle, dainty cape and quilted bodice, miniature top hat with tiny afternoon goggles.
Ada glanced at her engagement ring and smiled a smile upon George. 'What time is your appointment, dear?' she asked him.
George took out his gold watch and perused its face. 'An hour from now,' he said. 'At half past four.'
'And you do know what to say?'
'Of course I do.' George patted at a little sheaf of papers. 'I have written out a brief synopsis of our adventures together. Leaving out, of course, anything that either of us might find embarra.s.sing. Putting emphasis upon the exciting side of it all.'
'And have you made any mention of the subterranean Martians?'
George made so-so gestures with his hands. 'I am in two minds,' he told Ada, 'whether to sell, if sell indeed I can, this book as a fictional adventure, rather than a true-life tale. I do not know whether it would be appropriate to use the word ”Martian” at all.'
'Perhaps just Lemurian, then,' said Ada Lovelace. 'The wreck of the Empress of Mars Empress of Mars, escape from cannibals and flying monkeys, the discovery of the most sacred object in the universe and a lost civilisation this book has much to recommend it, I am thinking, without making mention of Martians. You must judge the publisher's reaction when you outline it to him. Use your intuition.'
'My intuition intuition?' said George. 'Perhaps you you should be visiting this publisher.' should be visiting this publisher.'
'George,' said Ada, 'I would certainly not be believed. I would appear a mere slip of a silly girl. Publishers are men and they like to publish other men. You will be fine. Everything will be fine.'
'Not one of my favourite phrases,' said George, 'but everything will will be fine.' be fine.'
They enjoyed a delightful tea of cakes and crumpets washed down with Twinings Afternoon Blend and a gla.s.s of chocolate-flavoured port to give George a little perk in the right direction.
At precisely four-thirty, George Fox entered the offices of Leonard Smithers. A gentleman with a reputation for publis.h.i.+ng a more racy brand of literature, Mr Smithers had published the work of Aubrey Beardsley, Oscar Wilde, Max Beerbohm and the sinister Aleister Crowley. George considered that this was the man to publish his fabulous tale.
The interview did not last long. Leonard Smithers was a man with a certain reputation. A man who took his luncheons in a mostly liquid form. A man who enforced a spoken opinion with a thrown object. A volatile fellow.
When George left the office of Leonard Smithers, a short half-hour after he had entered it, he did so with a certain faltering step. Things had not worked out exactly as he had hoped.
Certainly George had had received an advance. And a very large advance too. The cheque that now fluttered in his fingers sported several zeroes. But George felt saddened too regarding this advance. received an advance. And a very large advance too. The cheque that now fluttered in his fingers sported several zeroes. But George felt saddened too regarding this advance.
Mr Smithers had not not been impressed by George's tale, whether pitched as fact or very-far-fetched fiction. He knew a thing or two about the occult, he told George, and was well aware of the legends surrounding the j.a.panese Devil Fish Girl. One of his authors, a Mr Crowley, had written a piece regarding this singular deity. The mother G.o.ddess to all mother G.o.ddesses. The mother too of G.o.d himself, as some religions claimed. It was whispered by those in the know of the occult world and inner Government circles that the ecclesiastics of Venus had recently launched an expedition to seek the statue of this G.o.ddess. That they actually knew the location of the island on which it was to be found. But that also too the Jupiterians sought Her. That it was becoming a political issue which might lead to an interplanetary incident, and that something called a 'D notice' had been posted, forbidding any mention in newspapers, magazines or books regarding this matter. been impressed by George's tale, whether pitched as fact or very-far-fetched fiction. He knew a thing or two about the occult, he told George, and was well aware of the legends surrounding the j.a.panese Devil Fish Girl. One of his authors, a Mr Crowley, had written a piece regarding this singular deity. The mother G.o.ddess to all mother G.o.ddesses. The mother too of G.o.d himself, as some religions claimed. It was whispered by those in the know of the occult world and inner Government circles that the ecclesiastics of Venus had recently launched an expedition to seek the statue of this G.o.ddess. That they actually knew the location of the island on which it was to be found. But that also too the Jupiterians sought Her. That it was becoming a political issue which might lead to an interplanetary incident, and that something called a 'D notice' had been posted, forbidding any mention in newspapers, magazines or books regarding this matter.
George had been most surprised to hear all this.
Mr Smithers then suggested that perhaps George had in fact been sent by a rival publisher, seeking to sell him something that when published would cause Mr Smithers to be put out of business by the arrival of certain Gentlemen in Black, who would close down his office and carry him off to Heaven only knew where.
Mr Smithers had asked George whether he knew of the term 'conspiracy theory'. George had told Mr Smithers that he did.
And then George went on to say that if it was the case that nothing regarding the j.a.panese Devil Fish Girl could be published, that actually suited him very well and he would be happy to amend his ma.n.u.script to rename her the Cantonese Goldfish Girl, if needs be.
But it was at about this time that Mr Smithers, well in his cups and foaming somewhat at the mouth, openly accused George of being an agent for the Gentlemen in Black and hurled a clockwork ashtray at his head.
'Get out of my office and stay out!' he shouted at George.
So, as George strolled along Threadneedle Street, towards the Bank of England, where he intended to open an account with Mr Smithers' cheque, he did so with a certain faltering step. And a certain degree of sadness.
It is not a pleasant thing to have a publisher hurl an ashtray at your head and rant and rave about getting and staying out. Why, if it had not been for the employment by George of a slim gla.s.s phial of colourless liquid topped by a screw-on cap, George might not have got nearly so large an advance.
So George did not exactly laugh all the way to the bank, but thinking of Ada and their wedding day, he did smile just a little.
'The Cantonese Goldfish Girl?' said Ada Lovelace. Over an intimate supper for two in the kitchen of the Byron household.
'I had no choice,' said George. 'I do not wish Mr Smithers to get into any trouble. There seem to be some political issues involved.'
'Well, naturally there would be, George. Do you not think that every race in the universe would seek to possess the most sacred object in the universe? Seek to take it to their own world?'
'I had never really thought of it that way,' said George. 'Do you think then that if the Venusians knew where the statue was, they would try to steal it?'
'I have absolutely no doubt of that at all,' said Ada. 'I read The Book of Sayito The Book of Sayito, remember. The Venusian version claims that the statue was originally on Venus and was stolen by iconoclasts.'
'I do wish I had read this book,' said George.
'Well,' said Ada, 'I suggest that you and I keep very quiet about the temple on the island. Let us think of more cheerful matters. When are you having Darwin measured for his best man's suit?'
'Tomorrow,' said George. 'If I can ease him away from his opium pipe. He seems to have settled into this house more as a guest than a butler. He will not do anything for me any more.'
'Ah,' said Ada, 'then you did not hear. It was announced in the Tatler Tatler Lord Brentford left the bulk of his fortune to Darwin. When the redecoratings are completed at Syon House, Darwin will be moving there.' Lord Brentford left the bulk of his fortune to Darwin. When the redecoratings are completed at Syon House, Darwin will be moving there.'
'Well, that is a happy ever after for Darwin,' said George, raising a gla.s.s of red wine in his hand and toasting the monkey's good fortune. 'What do these redecoratings consist of?'
'The rose arboretum in the great conservatory is being uprooted and replaced with banana trees.'
Darwin the monkey ex-butler seemed to enjoy being measured for his best man's suit. He flicked through the tailor's catalogue and indicated that he would also like a tweed shooting jacket with matching plus fours, a linen suit, a panama hat and two pairs of red silk pyjamas.
The tailor, who was a regular reader of the Tatler Tatler, opened an account for Darwin and then drew his attention to a new range of headwear, aimed at gentlemen of modest hat size.
Days pa.s.sed one upon another, and the wedding day drew near.
And George Fox woke up upon a particular morning to find that it had arrived.
George had taken temporary lodgings with Darwin at the estate of the late Lord Brentford, as it was not really the done thing to live in the same house as your intended. Even if her family were of Bohemian bent. The banana trees were planted now and George even helped to install a few climbing ropes in the ballroom and place a number of small empty cardboard boxes in the late lord's study for Darwin to put on his head when he felt in the mood.