The Well Of Lost Plots Part 17

Ibb shrugged. 'I don't know. I just like the idea of being rescued a lot, that's all being carried off in big strong arms sort of ... appeals appeals. I thought I could have the plot explained to me a lot, too but I should have a few good lines of my own, be quite vulnerable, yet end up saving the day owing to a sudden flash of idiot savant brilliance.'

'I think you'll have no trouble getting a placement.' I sighed. 'But you seem quite specific have you used someone in particular as a model?'

'Her!' exclaimed Ibb, drawing out a much-thumbed Outland copy of Silverscreen Silverscreen from beneath the table. from beneath the table.

On the cover was none other than Lola Vavoom, being interviewed for the umpteenth time about her husbands, her denial of any cosmetic surgery and her latest film usually in that order.

'Gran!' I said sternly. 'Did you give Ibb that magazine?'

'Well-!'

'You know know how impressionable Generics can be! Why didn't you give it a magazine with Jenny Gudgeon in it? She plays proper women and can act, too.' how impressionable Generics can be! Why didn't you give it a magazine with Jenny Gudgeon in it? She plays proper women and can act, too.'

'Have you seen Ms Vavoom in My Sister Kept Geese My Sister Kept Geese!?' replied Gran indignantly. 'I think you'd be surprised she shows considerable range.'

I thought about Cordelia Flakk and her producer friend Harry Flex wanting Lola to play me in a film. The idea was too awful to contemplate.

'You were going to tell us about subtext,' said Obb, helping itself to more salad.

'Oh, yes,' I replied, a distraction from Vavoom a welcome break. 'Subtext is the implied action behind the written word. Text tells the reader what the characters say and do say and do but subtext tells us what they but subtext tells us what they mean and mean and feel feel. The wonderful thing about subtext is that it is common grammar, written in human experience you can't understand it without a good working knowledge of people and how they interact. Got it?'

Ibb and Obb looked at one another.

'No.'

'Okay, let me give you a simple example. At a party, a man gives a woman a drink and she takes it without answering. What's going on?'

'She isn't very polite?' suggested Ibb.

'Perhaps,' I replied, 'but I was really looking for some sort of clue as to their relationship.'

Obb scratched its head and said: 'She can't speak because er she lost her tongue in an industrial accident owing to his negligence?'

'You're trying too hard. For what reason would someone not necessarily necessarily say "thank you" for something?' say "thank you" for something?'

'Because,' said Ibb slowly, 'they know one another?'

'Good. Being handed a drink at a party by your wife, husband, girlfriend or partner, you would as likely as not just take it; if it was from a host to a guest, then you would thank them. Here's another: there is a couple walking down the road and she is walking eight paces behind him.'

'He has longer legs?' suggested Ibb.

'No.'

'They've broken down?'

'They've had an argument,' said Obb excitedly, 'and they live near by or they would be taking their car.'

'Could be,' I responded. 'Subtext tells you lots of things. Ibb, did you take the last piece of chocolate from the fridge?'

There was a pause.

'No.'

'Well, because you paused I know pretty confidently that you did.'

'Oh!' said Ibb. 'I'll remember that that.'

There was a knock at the door.

I opened it to reveal Mary's ex-beau Arnold looking very dapper in a suit and holding a small bunch of flowers. Before he had time to open his mouth I had closed the door again.

'Ah!' I said, turning to Ibb and Obb. 'This is a good opportunity to study subtext. See if you can figure out what is going on behind behind our words and Ibb, our words and Ibb, please please don't feed Pickwick at the table.' don't feed Pickwick at the table.'

I opened the door again and Arnold, who had started to slink off, came running back.

'Oh!' he said with mock surprise. 'Mary not back yet?'

'No,' I replied. 'In fact, she probably won't be back for some time. Can I take a message?'

And I closed the door on him again.

'Okay,' I said to Ibb and Obb. 'What do you think is going on?'

'He's looking for Mary?' suggested Ibb.

'But he knows knows she's gone away,' said Obb. 'He must be coming to speak to she's gone away,' said Obb. 'He must be coming to speak to you you, Thursday.'

'Why?'

'For a date?'

'Good. What am I saying to him?'

Ibb and Obb thought hard.

'If you didn't want to see him you'd have told him to go away, so you might be the tiniest bit interested.'

'Excellent!' I told them. 'Let's see what happens next.'

I opened the door again to a confused-looking Arnold, who broke into a wide smile.

'Well,' he said, 'no message for Mary. It's just we had planned to see Willow Lodge and the Limes this evening ...'

I turned to Ibb and Obb, who shook their heads. They didn't believe it either.

'Well ...' said Arnold slowly. '... perhaps you you might like to come with me to the concert?' might like to come with me to the concert?'

I shut the door again.

'He pretended pretended to have the idea about going to see Willow Lodge tonight,' said Ibb slowly and more confidently, 'when in fact I think he had it planned all along that way. I think he fancies you big time.' to have the idea about going to see Willow Lodge tonight,' said Ibb slowly and more confidently, 'when in fact I think he had it planned all along that way. I think he fancies you big time.'

I opened the door again.

'I'm sorry, no,' I told him hastily. 'Happily married.'

'It's not a date,' exclaimed Arnold quickly, just a lift to a concert. Here, take the ticket anyway. I've no one else to give it to; if you don't want to go, just bin it.'

I shut the door again.

'Ibb's wrong,' said Obb. 'He really really fancies you, but he's blown it by being fancies you, but he's blown it by being too too desperate it would be hard for you to respect someone who would almost start begging.' desperate it would be hard for you to respect someone who would almost start begging.'

'Not bad,' I replied. 'Let's see how it turns out.'

I opened the door again and stared into Arnold's earnest eyes.

'You miss her, don't you?'

'Miss who?' asked Arnold, seemingly nonchalant.

'Denial of love!' yelled Ibb and Obb from behind me. 'He doesn't really fancy you at all he's in love with Mary and wants a date on the rebound!'

Arnold looked suspicious.

'What's going on?'

'Subtext cla.s.ses,' I explained. 'Sorry for being rude. Do you want to come in for a coffee?'

'Well, I should be going really-'

'Playing hard to get!' hooted Ibb, and Obb added quickly: 'The balance of power has tipped in his favour because you've been rude to him with all that door nonsense, and now you're going to have to insist insist that he comes in for coffee, even if that means being nicer to him than you originally intended!' that he comes in for coffee, even if that means being nicer to him than you originally intended!'

'Are they always like this?' enquired Arnold, stepping inside.

'They learn fast,' I observed. 'That's Ibb and that's...o...b.. Ibb and Obb, this is Arnold.'

'h.e.l.lo!' said Arnold, thinking for a moment. 'Do you Generics want to go and see Willow Lodge and the Limes?'

They looked at one another for a moment, realised they were sitting just that little bit too close, and moved apart.

'Do you?' said Ibb.

'Well, only if you want to-'

'I'm easy it's your decision.'

'Well, y-es, I'd really like to.'

'Then let's go unless you've made other plans-?'

'No, no, I haven't.'

They got up, took the tickets from Arnold and were out the door in a flash.

I laughed and went through to the galley.

'Who's the elderly woman?' asked Arnold.

'It's my gran,' I replied, switching on the kettle and getting out the coffee.

'Is she ... you know?'

'Goodness me no!' I exclaimed. 'She's only asleep. She's one hundred and eight.'

'Really? Why is she dressed in this dreadful blue gingham?'

'Has been for as long as I can remember. She came here to make sure I didn't forget my husband. Sorry.

That makes me sound as though I'm labouring the point, doesn't it?'

'Listen,' said Arnold, 'don't worry. I didn't mean to come over all romantic just then. But Mary, well, she's quite something, you know, and I'm not just in love with her because I was written that way this one's for real. Like Nelson and Emma, Bogart and Bacall-'

'Finch-Hatton and Blixen. Yes, I know. I've been there.'

'Denys was in love with Baron Blixen?'

' Karen Karen Blixen.' Blixen.'

'Oh.'

He sat down and I placed a coffee in front of him.

'So, tell me about your husband.'

'Hah!' I said, smiling. 'You don't want me to bore you about Landen.'

'It's not boring. You listen to me when I hark on about Mary.'

I stirred my coffee absently, running through my memories of Landen to make sure they were all there.

Gran mumbled something about lobsters in her sleep.

'It must have been a hard decision to come and hide out here,' said Arnold quietly. 'I don't imagine Thursdays generally do that sort of thing.'

'You're right,' I replied, 'they don't. But sometimes falling back and regrouping is not the same as running away.'

'Tactical withdrawal?'

'Right. What would you do to get together with Mary again?'