Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A Time to Dance
I’ve by-passed the council and written directly to the English Heritage society. I even backdated the letter and posted it last week to make sure they got it in time. “Caulder’s Folly,” I said, “known locally as St. Marples because of its link with the author Agatha Christie,* should be declared a site of historic interest because of its links with Saint Ethan of Laverstone. Etchings of the folly by St, Ethan are on display at the Laverstone Museum. It is currently under threat of demolition from the council, and I urge urgent action.”
We’ll see whether they agree to buy it. I was rather pleased with the phrase ‘urge urgent’ – it trips nicely off the tongue.
That left me free to deal with Harold. I’ve spent a week faffing about St. Marples and all I’ve had from him is the bill for the gargoyle and a confession about ‘feelings of uneasiness’. For the son of a fallen angel he can be quite pathetic. I decided to liven him up a bit.
The Succubus Club, well known in many circles (despite the name being used multiple times during the vampire-chic nineties for roleplaying games, pop bands and websites) for its discerning clientele, is only open between the hours of midnight and six a.m.. We went with Gillian, Julie and Felicia (a third is always awkward for a couple but Felicia bridges both sets to make a harmonious five. I knew all the dancers, of course, and although Harold had his eye on one or two I managed to re-introduce him to the heart-stopping beauty of Marisuel and remind him what she looked like without the make-up. You should have seen the colour drain from his face. It’s nice to see he hasn’t forgotten the time he summoned her four years ago.**
The most astonishing thing about the evening? I didn’t know Harold could dance the Charleston.
*of whom some recordings have recently been made available.
**Let’s just say she has a dentistry issue. ***
***76 sharp canines.