Part 28 (1/2)
”No.” He glared at Noel with drunken hostility. ”You'll never hear it.” He rose from the table unsteadily. From his back pocket he extracted a crumpled note of ma.s.sive denomination and flung it on the table. ”At least not from me.”
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Norval stayed two months at Mrs. Pettybone's B & B. The proprietor a.s.signed him the finest room in the house, which happened to be across the hall from her daughter's. Gally had also been a.s.signed a room, on the ground floor, next to Mrs. Pettybone. But Gally stayed longer than Norval; in fact, he never left. A week after installing the skylight and telescope he proposed to Mrs. Pettybone, for the second time in twenty-two years, and this time was accepted. The wedding was to be held in the spring, a civil wedding at The Orangery at Newstead Abbey.
A double wedding? thought Norval. The idea was so preposterous, so ant.i.thetical to everything that he-the very symbol of bachelorhood- believed in that he suggested it to Teresa. It had the right touch of the absurd, the anachronistic, the harebrained. She hasn't long to live, a few years maybe (and who knows how long I've I've got?), so why not seize the Christly day, do something shockingly, uncharacteristically unselfish? But that's not even the right word, he thought. It got?), so why not seize the Christly day, do something shockingly, uncharacteristically unselfish? But that's not even the right word, he thought. It is is selfish-I want to spend every last second with her. And maybe they'll find a cure ... selfish-I want to spend every last second with her. And maybe they'll find a cure ...
Teresa, after realising Norval wasn't kidding about the proposal, said no. ”Don't be mad. It's just ... not done anymore.”
”Must I arrange it with your mother? A forced union? And what if you're pregnant? Gally will come after me with a shotgun. Or putty knife.”
Teresa laughed. ”A marriage would would make my mother happy, deliriously happy. But a double wedding? Not in a million years. I wouldn't want to steal her thunder, and I don't want to deal with old relatives and friends. But ... if you're absolutely sure about this, Norval, if you're not doing it out of some Florence Nightingale motive or to obtain a Boy Scout badge, then I make my mother happy, deliriously happy. But a double wedding? Not in a million years. I wouldn't want to steal her thunder, and I don't want to deal with old relatives and friends. But ... if you're absolutely sure about this, Norval, if you're not doing it out of some Florence Nightingale motive or to obtain a Boy Scout badge, then I will will elope. Anywhere you like, any time.” elope. Anywhere you like, any time.”
For Norval, it was the first time he'd been happy since the age of nine. He was in his first relations.h.i.+p that lasted more than a week, a place he never thought he'd be. He could scarcely believe what was happening- he was falling in love falling in love, for Christ's sake, something he thought was impossible, an emotional state he had ridiculed his entire life. But that was pre-Teresa ...
They arranged to marry in London, in Camden, partly because Norval had to be there to reshoot the ending of Rimbaud in London Rimbaud in London. The two left on the train together but Teresa, who had been feeling ill all morning, complained of double vision. Norval had noticed that one of her eyes wandered, and that she seemed to be tilting her head to the right. So she got off the train to see her doctor in Nottingham, insisting that Norval ride on without her. They would meet up the next day, she promised, on the steps of the Camden Town Hall.
The following day, an hour before they were scheduled to meet, Norval was there waiting, worried, his back against the wall of the building, sheltered from the pouring rain. He waited two hours, checking his watch every five minutes, peering out from behind a rain-battered column. I had a feeling she wouldn't come. How could I think she would come? She's changed her mind, can't go through with it. Or is there someone else? Her ex? Craig Slandon, beer-guzzling imbecile, aged twenty-one? Another hour pa.s.sed, maybe more, before he phoned Mrs. Pettybone's B & B. No, she wasn't there. We thought she was with you in London. Oh dear.
Norval took the first express train north, to Nottingham, then a taxi to Queen's Hospital. Yes, a receptionist informed him, Teresa spent the night here, but went home this morning ... He flew out the door to hail another cab. At the train station, a tree down at Newstead kept him waiting for another murderous hour. After standing the entire way, chain-smoking between carriages, he jumped off the moving train at Hucknall, and ran with bursting lungs through fields of decaying vegetation and stagnant pools of water, to Mrs. Pettybone's B & B.
Teresa was not there. Norval raced up and down steps, opened up doors and closets of rooms that hadn't been used in years, madly, rampageously, even climbing up to the attics. ”Teresa!” he shouted repeatedly. ”Terry!” The three of them-Mrs. Pettybone, Gally and Norval- scoured her bedroom for a sign, a farewell message, a suicide note. Nothing. She had vanished and clearly did not want to be found.54
Chapter 19.
Norval & Company Liszt's Symphonic Poem No. Symphonic Poem No. 2 was starting as Noel placed a fake log on the fire. Lounging in Mr. Burun's La-Z-Boy, his right cheek and sandwashed Nepalese silk s.h.i.+rt uncharacteristically smudged with black, Norval observed his new environment while cracking nuts and inhaling Armagnac. 2 was starting as Noel placed a fake log on the fire. Lounging in Mr. Burun's La-Z-Boy, his right cheek and sandwashed Nepalese silk s.h.i.+rt uncharacteristically smudged with black, Norval observed his new environment while cracking nuts and inhaling Armagnac.
”Fish rule in effect,” said Norval.
”Fish rule?”
”An old Danish proverb: 'Fish, like guests, begin to stink after three days.' On second thought, I'll get a hotel.” In his head Norval began to rewind the evening, scarcely able to believe he was sitting where he was. He had taken a taxi home from the bar less than an hour before, seen something there that sobered him up at once, took another cab to Noel's. Where for the first time in his life he was admitted-by Mrs. Burun.
”You can stay here,” said Noel, ”as long as you want-especially after what you've just been through.”
Norval paused to listen to the cellos and double ba.s.s evoke the spirit of Byron's Ta.s.so. ”Got any cigarettes? Where's JJ and Sam, by the way? Upstairs s.h.a.gging? Oh, h.e.l.lo Mrs. Burun.”
Mrs. Burun had returned from the bathroom. ”Call me Stella,” she said, while reaching for a cigarette case on the mantel. ”Noel, I think this gentleman will be a bad influence on you.”
”Everyone needs a bad influence from time to time, wouldn't you agree, Stella?”
”That's how I fell in love with my husband.”
Norval laughed. ”Shall I pour you one of these?”
”Yes, why not? Would you like one of these?” She opened up the silver and cloisonne enamel box, a birthday gift to her husband.
”You're too kind. Say when.”
”Mom, I'm not sure if ...” Noel paused, distracted by a coppery head that popped through the doorway then withdrew behind a wall, like a tortoise into its sh.e.l.l. ”Salut, Jean-Jacques.” Jean-Jacques.”
JJ gradually materialised, squinting in the direction of Norval. He was wearing s.h.i.+ny pyjamas of interstellar blue, covered with planets and stars and smiling moons. A cell phone protruded from his pocket. ”Nor? Is that you?” He rubbed his eyes, like a bad actor seeing a miracle. ”A-yo, dude! What brings you here at one in the morning?”
Norval reached over for a toss cus.h.i.+on on the sofa, examined its running wave border. ”It's two in the morning.”
”Norval's place was torched,” said Noel. ”He's going to be staying here for a while. For three days.”
”Not another arson! Jesus c.o.c.kadoodle Christ! This is getting scary. This time we've got to report it, I'm sorry.” JJ pulled out his cell and punched in zero. ”h.e.l.lo, operator? Get me the number for 911. I mean the number-”
”JJ, put your phone away,” said Norval, with an indulgent half-smile. ”Everything's been taken care of.”
”Everything's been taken of, operator,” JJ repeated into the line. ”Sorry.” He snapped his phone shut, all atwitter, then fumbled it onto the floor. ”Do you know who did it, Nor? Is everything OK? Are you OK?”
”Everything's fine. We'll talk about it in the morning, all right?”
”Any damage? Do you know who could've done it? You sure we shouldn't report it? I really think-”
Here Norval got up and walked towards him, carrying the toss cus.h.i.+on. To Noel's surprise, instead of stuffing it in JJ's mouth, he tossed it back onto the sofa and stooped to pick up the cell phone. He slipped it into JJ's breast pocket, put his hand on JJ's shoulder. ”I appreciate your concern, JJ. I'm just going to the bathroom now and then to bed. I'm dead. I'll fill in the blanks tomorrow.”
”I'll show you where the bathroom is,” said Mrs. Burun. ”Then I'm off to bed myself.”
”Good night, guys!” said JJ as the two disappeared down the hall. ”Oh, Noel, I almost forgot. The sun is square to Saturn. Mars and Jupiter in your fourth house. Buy no new footwear.”
”Got it,” said Noel.
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Noel fixed his eyes on the multicoloured flames, which fluttered like a school of tropical fish. Orpiment, nacarat, aurora, cinnabar, ultramarine ... He sipped his cranberry juice, not tasting a thing, wondering what he had just done. Norval and Sam here, together? My mother and Norval? My mother and Norval? Not good combinations, not good at all ... Not good combinations, not good at all ...
Norval settled back into his chair, reached for the Boingneres Folle Blanche 1994. ”Nice bathroom, Noel.” He poured out the biggest gla.s.s of brandy Noel had ever seen or heard of. ”Just what I always wanted when taking a c.r.a.p-an instruction manual.”
”Yeah ... it's ... I'm going to take all that stuff down ... soon.”
”Why didn't you tell me?”
”About what?”
”About your mother.”
”Because ... JJ already told you.”
”Why didn't you you tell me?” tell me?”
Noel sighed, took another sip of juice. ”Because ... because you would've ridiculed the whole situation, said I was running a 'mommy daycare' or something, suggested I put her in a home, that I was wasting my time.”
”Yes, I would have. And you are.”