"Emmet can you come here a minute?" Elizabeth's voice was straining to hide its mixture of emotions. It probably concealed confusion and anger, but there's no knowing for certain.
Emmet emerged from the dining room carrying the bowl of cereal that he was eating in his hand. "What is it Liz?"
"Did you find a letter scribbled out on some note paper on the table?"
"Yes." His voice scarcely hid his mischief.
"What did you do with it? Her knuckles were white from having gripped the bundle of mail in her hand. Had she been standing, it would be reasonable to think that she would have been in fighting stance.
"I sent it on to her, of course," his said before spooning some of the corn flakes into his mouth.
"Why would you do that Emmet?" She was gnashing her teeth.
"You have been friends with her for long enough and I hate to see you suffer. And furthermore to that I suppose that she would stop singing at me."
She stood up, dropping all of the other unopened envelopes on her rug. She was within inches of his face, and he stood still chewing on the already softened cereal. "Why would you send that?" She was yelling, something she rarely did. And Emmet instantly remembered his fear of his older sister from his childhood. Don't worry, she did not torment him. She only made sure that he understood that he was younger, and therefore was to respect her.
"Why did you write it?" He shrieked, nearly releasing the bowl from his hand. He caught himself and steeled himself.
She backed up a little after hearing such a strange sound from her brother. It sounded like a cat being sprinkled with water from one of those cheap spray bottles they sell in the chemist. "It was therapy. I have to vent sometimes." She turned her back on her brother but continued talking, not to anyone really, "I mean forgive me," she started to sarcasm, a skill Emmet had not known was there, but was impressive. "I've been living next to a woman like that for twenty-nine years, who calls you in the middle of the day to look at tables and calls you in the middle of the night to pretend to be a burglar to check her security system which sounds like the horn of the QEII. So, I beg your pardon if I write and impolite paper which I intended to throw out!"
"I—"
"And then the way she treats her husband is insane. I never get to see my husband and she has Richard on a lead. One of the nicest men on the planet tethered to that."
"I—"
"And now I get a letter from her and she calls me her little dog."
"I've never seen you so mad." And he hadn't. She turned back around and Emmet noticed the slightest hint of moisture on her face.
"Well, I'm sorry. I'm not quick to anger and you know that I don't frustrate easy. It's just for so many years I wrote letters like that and crumpled them up. I threw them all out and now she knows how I feel."
"You feel better now, no coffee, no candlelight suppers…"
"No Hyacinth absorption for Richard." She retorted.
"Damn, I hadn't thought of that."
Sometimes Richard escaped into what he called his "Away Place." It was usually cool and dim there. To be frank he wasn't actually moving his body, but his mind. His mind would go that that Away Place where he found his greatest satisfaction.
Silence.
That is what he coveted the most. He wouldn't kill for it but he would buy it if he could. With it came peace and with it came the thing that he loved most, his solitude. He supposed that he loved her before as most men do. Now he didn't know what it was. Marriage was a union, so they were united. He remembered reading in the dictionary that happiness was an inherent part of the institution. He objected to that.
In 1961 it may have been that way, but not now, not in 1995.
Presently Richard is sitting in his chair in his Away Place. It was a view of a cloudless autumn sunrise, cool and dim like he liked it.
"RICHARD!" His wife's voice, then darkness and then a return to reality.
"Yes, Hyacinth." His voice sounded normal to him.
"I don't think I appreciate that tone, and you really mustn't speak that way out of doors." Those words descended from on high.
"Yes, dearest wife."
"That's better. Now I am expecting a call from the Mayor's office. What shall I wear?" Richard could have died right then and been more content, "My purple hat with the yellow daffodils of my yellow hat with the violet violets?"
"If it's a telephone call, does it matter what you're wearing? And secondly why would we be getting a call from the Mayor's office?"
"Of course it matters what I'm wearing, it is the Mayor we're talking about. Or it is the Mayor about whom we are talking. I couldn't answer in just any old thing."
"Quite right, you could answer naked and the Mayor wouldn't care." Richard stifled a laugh.
"I will not have that Council Housing humor in this house and besides I don't allow anyone to see me naked it's not befitting of a lady."
"It's true I don't remember the last time I saw you nake—"
"I am your wife!" She was scandalized, "You shouldn't be thinking of your wife or any other woman in such an impure way. I certainly hope you won't be so libidinous, so lascivious, so lewd, so licentious, so lubricious around me or any other woman when His Worship comes to our Christian sing-song candlelight supper tomorrow night!"
His head was spinning from all of the L's he just heard. Something further clicked in his head, "Christian Sing-song candlelight supper?"
"You know Richard I get the feeling that you don't listen to me. It's as if I'm speaking to brick. Yes a sing-song. I have invited His Worship, we shall sing together."
"Oh, Lord." He sighed.
"Is that a song we should sing?! You know that I found some good ones in an American hymn book I borrowed from the library." She inhaled deeply and he prepared his ears for the cacophony of calamitous crescendos. "BLESSED ASSURANCE JESUS IS MINE, OH WHAT A FORETASTE OF GLORY DIVINE!"
There was a dog howling in the street, Richard could hear it. Hyacinth heard it too and said, "Must be a full moon tonight."
"That's nice but aren't you going to have a pianist to drown you ou— I mean to compliment you," Richard pondered.
"I would, but Emmet's not going to be available so that's why I got you this," She reached down at the table and under the American hymn book another book from the library?"
"How to Play Piano in Two Weeks," Richard read aloud from the cover, "but Hyacinth the occasion is in twenty-eight hours!"
"Well then, you had better start practicing." She answered coldly.
"Are you quite sure Emmet's not available?!" Indignant.
"Yes, quite sure," she said, "After all I don't control's schedules." She put the book back on to the table and walked out.
He went to the table and grumbled, "I don't even know how to read sheet music."
He picked up the hymnal and what looked like a bookmark fell out of it. Upon further inspection, he realized that it was a sheet of line paper folded in thirds as if it were in an envelope. He opened it and saw Elizabeth's neat and distinctive penmanship. He heard Hyacinth's footsteps approaching and fulfilled the sudden urge to hide the paper under his shirt. She burst into the room only to find him reading the book on playing piano.
"Tell me Richard, and I shall know if you're lying have you seen a piece of paper, a folded letter?"
"No, I haven't." It was easy to lie to her, because she never listened.
"Oh, alright." She left in a huff.
He took it out of his shirt…
Dear Hyacinth…
Liz had calmed down knowing that there was nothing that she could do.
The doorbell rang and she answered it. She was surprised to see that it was Richard.
"Can I come in Liz?"
"I'm surprised to see you after…" She trailed off.
"I have it right here, let me in." She relented and obeyed and let him in.
They went to her living room and he at in a chair and she sat on the settee. Emmet was, of course, at the piano bench, but he turned around and greeted Richard.
"What brings you here old boy?" Emmet asked. Richard was terse and spoke in a hushed voice.
"Listen we have to be quick I told her that I was having a look at the car. I have the letter," and he produced it, "I've read it and you're my favorite writer."
She blushed in embarrassment.
He continued, "Take this letter back." He put it on her coffee table, "I have a plan." I am going to convince her that she never received a letter and that it is her conscious that made her think she got it. I want her to fix herself you know. I can't see the reply now I must get back, don't destroy this letter or the reply I need them for reference. Good night." And it seems that he disappeared just as quickly as he came.
"What do you think of that?" She asked.
"I don't know. I'm not even sure I understand." Emmet said, "Richard knows what he's ding and I have faith in that."
Author's Note: I know that it is a bit jumbled now, but Richard knows what he's doing.
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