"I want to end by asking one final question Nigel- will any of this ever end? Will we ever move outside the realm of theory or abstraction and generate some real, material progress? Because from what it seems to me, it is an ouroboros of a problem that will keep on eating itself and regenerating in ways that we can barely keep up with."
"Thank you a lot, Michelle. That was Michelle Grant, editor-in-chief of Financial Times. Her sixth book "Anarchy & Anachronism" will be available at your nearest bookshelves from 2nd June so do check it out. This has been Nigel Green and I will be back next week with a new episode of "The Political Weekly". See you till then."
Eve tried to make a mental note of the name of the book for the next time she will be shopping for some. The bumper music crisply filtered out of the strained speakers of the car before the opening of 'Don't You Want Me' by The Human League pleasantly filled Eve's drowsy consciousness with a small scintilla of joy.
"They don't make music like this anymore" Jessica said, "All of them have to sound like each other."
"There are some who make it through the corporate drudgery" Eve replied while straining her eyes at the sharp curve ahead.
"Only the ones that don't threaten them."
"I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar
That much is true…"
Eve was hoping that once out of London, the drive wouldn't take that long. But now that it was nearly noon, she started to wonder if Jessica had the right address to begin with.
"How long did they say it will take for us?" she asked her.
"They said it was just an hour from Shrewsbury" she said looking at the note in her phone.
"Kind of remote, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I almost turned it down. But they doubled my rate."
"Why?" she asked, thinking about Jessica's somewhat exorbitant rates for makeup. Not that they were completely unjustified, but they were definitely not cheap in any sense of the word.
"As long as I was willing to sign an NDA, they seemed like they were going to triple my fees."
"NDA? Are they criminals?" Eve asked.
Jessica laughed nervously. "I don't know, you reckon I should have googled them?"
"Maybe?" she shrugged, "how much are they paying you?"
"1500 pounds."
Eve slammed the brakes and brought the car to a rough halt barely a few inches away from a large truck.
"That's a shit lot of money for a fucking cadaver Jessica!" she whispered excitedly.
"I know! Why do you think I even agreed to it? It is not even going to take that much time and all I have to do is legally shut up about it. That is not hard to do. Who do I even talk to anyways? My mum? She can barely remember your name."
"Yeah and you won't get unsolicited notes from the guy about putting too much concealer on" said Eve snarkily. They erupted in a warm laugh that gave Eve more comfort than she thought it would.
"Jessica Fernsby, here for the makeup" she said to the security guard standing by the stopped car.
"Can I see an ID?" the stern guard dressed in a tuxedo and wearing rigid shades produced a large palm through the window of the car. Jessica produced the card.
"I see" he said handing the ID to another man (his virtual twin) standing behind him, "What about her?" he asked gesturing towards me.
"She is dropping me off" Jessica said smiling to hide her nervousness.
"What is your name, miss?" he asked leaning over Jessica with surprising impunity.
"Eve Caplan"
"You got any ID?"
Eve looked around, flustered before opening the glove compartment and producing her driver's license. He inspected her photo and her face in the same way and turned into their office that was a relatively large room for something situated at the entrance of the estate. They returned a few minutes later with their IDs.
"Drive straight, take the first right. Drive past the first three fountains and take the second right. Follow the stream till you see a large building with the big iron gate. Press the button there and I will open it for you to park the car inside."
Eve wondered if she could ask him to jot it down on paper but before she could say anything Jessica loudly thanked and the men in black walked backed to their office. Eve started getting a sinking feeling of being in a very weird, isolated part of the country. Living all her life in London, it felt impossible to conceive that there were parts like this that were so removed from crowds or humanity.
Eve forgot halfway through that she was in someone's private property. It felt like a long summer drive to some quaint Welsh village bordering a national park. Even before the aforementioned 'first right' arrived, they must have driven for 15 minutes at least. By the time they reached their actual destination, it was already half past two.
Jessica walked up to the button and within a few seconds the large cast iron gate opened. She walked in as Eve drove past and parked the car in front of the building, or what was the backside of a large Gothic building. She noticed an old woman dressed in all black standing at the entrance.
"You must be Jessica" she said smiling as Jessica walked up to her.
"Yes, sorry to be late. I had no idea how far it was."
"Is this your assistant?" the old woman asked looking at Eve.
"She is sort of chaperoning me. She drove me here. She is my roommate."
"I thought so. Since you didn't mention an assistant in the NDA…" the old lady said mechanically twitching her synthetic smile.
"Speaking of which," Jessica said as we stood at the foyer, "here is the signed NDA" she handed a few sheets of paper from her portfolio while clutching her makeup kit under her arms.
"Very well" the lady in black gently said, before turning to me- "Please wait in the tea room here while Ms. Fernsby is escorted" as she pointed towards a door behind me. I glanced at Jessica to give a non-verbal goodbye, "how long will it take?" I asked. "Maybe an hour and half?" she replied as the old lady started ushering her away. "You know where to find me…" Eve's voice trailed off in the dark empty hallway.
Eve turned to enter what seemed to be a large drawing room. There was a huge glass door on the other side that opened onto a spacious porch that led to a short set of stairs going down into a lawn. She walked towards the porch entrance and on the right side of her field of vision was a covered corridor connecting this building to the ornate castle whose backside was visible to her. This building seemed to have only offices, as she gathered from the periodic ringing of phones and the general atmosphere of formality. The estate seemed to be of a scale and size she wasn't expecting- Eve have been to her share of aristocratic houses as a museum curator. A big part of her job was to visit the barons, earls and other myriad off shoots of the British Aristocracy in the process of acquiring antiques- a vase from Somalia, a priceless Chinese tome (one of the last surviving copies of a Han-era epic), A Nazca warrior visor. She has been to many estates made of stone sitting a top velvet lawns like a music box on the dressing table of a woman. But this is the first time she felt so removed from all of them. This wasn't just a manor or estate (never mind that the address very deceptively described it as Crepuscule Cottage), it was a straight up castle whose entry gate was 10 Kilometers away from the nearest highway. The distance between the entry gate and what seemed to be one of the nether regions must have been easily 7-8 Kilometers. It was difficult to be sure about the time because the dense forests and the multiple serene streams that Eve saw on her way to this building really distorted her sense of linear time. The aforementioned backside of the castle was almost a kilometer away from where Eve stood, not that it mattered because the gargantuan size of the tower facing her still looked very imposing.
Eve noticed the old lady dressed in black escorting Jessica through the corridors that were made in a style somewhat similar to that of Oxford corridors. Just when she lost them, a timid cough behind her caught her attention. A youngish woman probably as old as Eve but with bright auburn hair stood their holding a tray with a singular glass of water.
"Would you like some tea or coffee, miss?" she asked slowly moving towards her and offering the water.
"Yeah, I guess I'll have a coffee"
"Espresso?"
"Latte, no sugar. Thank You."
She diligently nodded and turned around. Eve finally paid attention to the large drawing that had a ring of sofas in front of the open porch door, a large fireplace on the wall behind them. There was another set of similar sofas on the other side of the room that had large windows facing on one side and floor-to-ceiling shelves of books on the other side. There were coffee tables stacked with magazines and two flower-vases on each table having white orchids and chrysanthemums. Eve walked over the table nearest to her and say the latest editions of Vogue (UK, Australia & USA), New Yorker, Forbes, Time, Harper's Bazaar, Economist among others stacked in a tall pile besides a drooping orchid.
The sky outside was dramatically turning dark grey despite it being the end of May. Maybe a last smattering of springtime showers, Eve thought. Not that she was complaining. She was looking forward to the summer but always had a liking for deep grey skies of all shades of ink and despair. The distant castle had a row of thick bright red rose bushes that were gently swaying in the wind and the grey and red of the scene made a strange impact on Eve's senses.
She waited for Auburn (she gave her that temporary & expedient name) to put her latte on the table and leave so that she can take it out to the porch steps and drink with while smoking a cigarette. She was worried that the guards at the entrance would frisk her and not allow the lighter- as has happened a couple of times with her before whenever she had meetings in these properties. They never seemed much concerned about cigarettes, only the lighters were seen as security threats to melting old men sprawling on their mahogany armchairs. Give the anarchist a cigarette, just take their lighters away.
The porch was a giant courtyard in its own right, with old fashioned parapets at the border reaching 2 or 3 feet. The wide yet not too steep stairs leading down gave a closer view of this isolated place. Far beyond the castle buildings were a cascade of hills that betrayed significant altitude. She wondered how close this place was to the Welsh border and the highlands. She couldn't really determine because she had no idea where exactly this place was. She was unable to tally it to the scale of a map of England.
She also noticed as she settled down on of the steps a small fleet of cars parked presumably in front of the back tower. That must be the entrance to this wing, she thought. Every now and then a few sombre looking people would either walk inside or shuffle outside while looking at the constantly darkening sky. Despite the uncanny affect, Eve eventually found herself in a state of bliss that terrified her a little. Here she was, god knows how far away from London, sitting at the far side of the property some very obscure yet very wealthy family, wearing a sundress hoping that it would be a balmy summer long drive. But the out of place dark weather, the estate looming so dramatically over the coniferous wilderness and hills and distant sound of rivers and streams and taking a long, satisfying drag on the cigarette that filled her lungs and mind with bittersweet snugness- this seems to be one of those moments that Eve will remember as the perfect mis-en-scene, the feeling of being in an impressionist painting, of living it instead of looking at it in a crowded gallery with the smell of hors d'oeuvres assaulting her ability to fully take in the painting. I would be back in London tonight (or tomorrow), thought Eve, but my soul will be rejuvenated with the few hours I will spend sitting on these ancient steps and see with myself a storm brewing.
Just as she doused her stub on the last step, she noticed a large group of people waking towards what she concluded must be the small parking area with all the cars. A tall man dressed in all black with raven hair seemed to be leading the informal congress, the rest of the group showed behavioral signs of listening to him and taking actual and mental notes of what he is saying. One person would timidly go to the dark leader and say something while virtually bowing and as soon as he responded they would very aggressively agree and fall back. She noticed this happen for ten minutes or so before all of them in unison formally greeted the man and immediately scampered away, not towards the back tower but in a further away direction towards some other part of the castle.
The man walked slowly yet gracefully towards the black Mercedes parked at the very end, the side closest and more visible to Eve. He leaned slightly on the door of the driver seat and rested his head on his forearm in a gesture of exhaustion. He stayed there like this for quite a while, long enough for Eve to think if he dozed off. As soon as she had this thought, he seemed to abruptly get out of his stupor and frantically looked around him, as if he just remembered something that needed to be written down. Eve thought that he was going to call for someone but he kept looking around fearfully until he spotted her sitting at the steps.
He intently glared at her for a few moments, trying to adjust his eyes to the distance. The clouds were getting darker and hung heavier and Eve felt a sharp pang of self-consciousness and embarrassment for such a voyeuristic gaze at a man in what seemed to be a very private moment. Her shame turned into mild panic as she realized that the man was now swiftly walking towards her, his large black overcoat flying behind his body in response to the scary speed of his stride and revealing a crisp black suit underneath with white shirt. She almost instinctively finished the last of her cold latte and tried to get up as comfortably and confidently as possible. She started mentally rehearsing her responses-
"I'm here with Jessica, the make up artist for the dead body"- that sounds so bad. "The makeup artist for the deceased" this sounds better, respectful (pinkies up). I hope the smell of my cigarette isn't too inappropriate, she wondered.
Even before she completed this train of thought, the guy was barely 15 meters away from her. She stood up adjusting her dress as she brought his face into clear focus. He had a rectangular face with a cleft chin and heavy, dark wavy hair. His cheeks were a very pale pink, presumably from the long walk he just took from there to here. His eyes were a very distinct shade of green, brighter than a regular green but still somewhat natural looking. She couldn't tell if he softened his expressions as he walked closer. Soon he was standing a few feet away from her and had a slight smile at the corner of his thin mouth.
"I wonder if that will keep you warm" he said in a loud deep voice.
"I didn't knew it will rain, was kind of hoping for a summer long drive" Eve replied trying to gather courage. She was pleasantly surprised with her ability to respond so smoothly.
"I think I rescheduled all interviews for today, didn't you get the mail?" he asked.
"I'm not here for that, I gave Jessica, the makeup artist, a ride here." He was silent for a few moments, Eve wondered if he understood her, "you know, the makeup artist for the decea.."
"Oh yeah, I know what you mean" he interrupted gently, "you drove here from London today?"
"Yeah none of us knew how deep in the woods this place would be. We were hoping it would be like a nice getaway- hence the dress" she said pointing awkwardly towards her dress. She immediately wondered if it was inappropriate for her to talk like this in a house with a death. She tried to gauge his reaction but he just stood there smiling serenely.
The clouds were now rumbling loudly and they were going to start pouring any moment now. A few seconds passed like this, with the tall man framed under an inky grey sky like a scepter of looming death, dressed in all black with his wavy hair caressed by the wind.
"Are you related to the deceased in any way?" Eve finally asked to break the creepy silence.
"Yes, he was my grandfather" he said. "I'm very sorry" Eve said slowly walking towards him. "Thank you, but I'm really fine. He lived an excruciatingly long life anyways", he said. His eyes gained a naughty glint as he noticed me walking towards him.
"I'm Eve Caplan" she said putting her left hand out to him. He was taken a bit by surprise. He looked at her and then at her extend hand. For a few seconds Eve wondered if she has committed a faux pas, she thought she was safe judging from his response to her consolation. But the moment was promptly rescued as he slowly raised his left hand and engulfed Eve's palm in his. He was wearing black leather gloves that warmed her a bit.
"Christian" he said, weirdly avoiding Eve's gaze. He still smiled sheepishly, it reminded her very much of Tom Cruise. If he had slightly more emotions, that is.
The sound of thunder suddenly cracked the air like a whip, drawing both of their attention to the sky. She started walking up the steps towards the porch hurriedly.
"I think we should go in here" Eve said to him while running up. He started moving slowly, as if indifferent toward the harsh elements.
"Would you be driving back to London tonight?" he asked as they stood by the porch door, "its already very late and the weather isn't too good for that."
"What options do we have?"
"There is a village nearby that have a lot of inns, you can stay there for the night and leave for London tomorrow morning."
"Eve? Eve!" the shrill, shaky voice of Jessica from the corridor outside reverberated into the drawing room, followed by Jessica herself coming.
"Eve, I really need to-" she stopped abruptly after looking at Christian, her expression of fear turning into pure terror.
"Are you done?" Eve asked her. "Yes," she said trying to be very restrained and careful while maintaining her gaze towards Christian, "I think we should leave"
"This is Christian, by the way" she said to Jessica (trying to ignore her distressed state, hoping she would snap out of it somehow), "he's the grandson of…"
"Yeah, I know, Eve. We met." she said sharply. Eve turned around to look at Christian who was looking at her with a smile, something that now started to terrify her a bit.
"You guys should stay the night at the Tyne Inn" he said leaning on a wall, "tell them Chris sent you, he will give you a decent discount and complementary meals for as long you stay. I'll call him by the time you'll reach there."
He now fixed his burning green eyes on Eve, prying a response from her that wasn't 'thank you' or anything else formal. He was daring her to see the emotions in his eyes, for a microsecond he even furrowed his brows in amusement that was saying oh really? In non-verbal language. She caught herself putting effort in trying to pull her attention away from his eye contact.
"What do you think Jessica?" she asked in a hazy voice, as she just got out of a mystic trance.
"Yeah, not a bad idea" she started mumbling, "especially for you, you're the driver I don't want you to be exhausted and all."
"Yes, that's true too" Christian said.
He stood at the entrance as Eve backed her car and drove out of the gate. At the main entrance, the guards made them sign and finger stamp the photocopies they had made of their photo-IDs before they drove off property. Jessica was silent and very visibly shaken throughout all of this. Eve asked twice throughout the drive away from the estate if she was okay and she said nothing. She started to very slowly freak out.
When they were some 10 kilometers away from the estate, she finally spoke- "can you pullover for a minute Eve?"
She immediately stopped on a shoulder that overlooked the village that Christian mentioned, its all twilight glory with lights turning on in houses and offices. In a singular smooth movement Jessica bolted out of the door, completely unaware of the heavy rain and bent over a horizontal tree trunk and started retching violently. Eve ran upto her as fast as she could and held her blonde hair away from her face.
"Are you seriously okay Jessica?" she said in a mixture of concern and anger. She had been noticing this for two hours now. She was mildly frustrated, if not scared about what to do, if they will find something to help her in that village at this hour. She nevertheless overcame her confusion and gently rubbed Jessica's back.
"What happened in there Jessica?" she asked softly as she seated her on the other side of the fallen log, the part of it sheltered partly by the thick canopy of another medieval tree. She sat besides her and held her right hand, that had swatches and was stained with many layers of smudged foundation and concealer.
She cradled her head in her left hand, her wet hair flowing down like curtains. She took some deep breaths and abruptly turned to Eve, with heavy tears streaming down her cheeks. She was straining under the burden of something traumatic but was still hesitant, scared.
"You can tell, Jessie" Eve assured her, letting go of her hand and putting my arm around her, "what happened in there?"
She finally took a dramatic gulp.
"I have never seen such a disgusting dead body in my life, Eve"
"I know Jessie, its never pretty" she said, "that's why they need you so their family doesn't have to see that"
"No!" she said loudly, pulling herself away from me a bit, "you don't understand. This one was something genuinely horrifying. The entire room reeked in a way dead bodies don't reek. The body weighed lighter than a feather. The hair was stiff like a wire, his face was warm but his hands were cold and I don't even know if…"
"If what?" Eve asked somberly.
"I don't know if he was dead!" she screeched over the noise of rain.
"What do you mean?" Eve's adrenaline going off the roof.
"His fucking eyes were following me all the time!"