Chapter 3

From:
Cedric King
Poplar House
Halfpenny Lane
Little Chinfold

To:
Aytuzi Finance Company
Unit 3, White Horse Yard
Newton Godfrey

For the attention of Brian Bodkin

Brian,

My dear fellow, I had no idea that your personal circumstances were as you describe them. Allow me to commiserate with you and, by extension, with your obviously long-suffering wife, who I have no doubt has a right to better things, especially when one takes account of her voluntary activities, which I assume are unpaid. It would distress me to hear of filthy lucre being involved. I might be able to offer you a few tips, though that naturally depends on your being more reasonable than hitherto in this piffling matter of a few monthly payments.

First, let me say how sorry I am to hear about the position in your office. Convector and fan indeed. You surely deserve something more than that. Can’t you get your boss to spring for, let’s say, a storage heater or two? On second thought, perhaps not. He (I assume it is a ‘he’ – the ladies would not be so cruel) will have that mindset which demands squeezing until the pips squeak, and will be doing the same to you as to his captive debtors. I mean, for goodness sake, working all hours God sends for such a taskmaster, then being unable to buy your own place. This is outrageous and I feel sure we can do something about it.

I will give some thought to the more fundamental aspects of your position over the coming days, but right now I am minded to offer an immediate word of advice. Please do not persist with your efforts to stop smoking. Believe me, this is the wrong time. In order to take such a step, one needs a certain constellation of events, and you do not have it at present. Cigarettes are not nice things, so this leaves us with a pipe or cigars. I accept that, in your current state, you can hardly indulge in the products of, say, Henry Upmann or Ramon Allones. However, you don’t know what you are being spared. I can tell you that Havanas take a chap’s breath away no end. Were that not so, I would send you a couple from my own stock.

So, we are left with the pipe. Now, don’t stint yourself here. I recommend a fine straight-grain, but only you know the depth of your pocket. As for keeping the thing going, there is a technique involved, and here again I am willing to help with a few pointers. I still have a tin of the herbal smoking mixture I once used, and would be happy to send you a sample. You need only ask. I can tell you that you will have no trouble keeping the stuff alight, as it is tinder-dry and burns like a forest fire. Unfortunately, flammability is not the only quality it shares with parched woodland (think about inhaling the output of blazing twigs), so its effect on the palate is deleterious. Still, it would get you accustomed to maintaining a steady draw. You could regard it as, so to speak, a nursery slope, from which you could graduate to a cut plug or a black twist. Anyway, you have my address if you need help.

I am in complete sympathy with you in the matter of those pestilential people below your office. I was once a member of an old and most distinguished private library, which occupied premises above a place like the one you mention. I tried – oh, how I tried – to get the administrators concerned to remonstrate with the culprits. It was all in vain and I resigned. I regret the episode to this day. Yes, Brian, I failed. Not easy to think that of me, is it?

I am digressing here, but would like to know what you are studying at night school. I cannot escape the feeling that if your exertions are in the field of commerce, you may be facing the North Wall of the Eiger. You might like to know that I did that (I mean climbed it, not just faced it) many years ago, during one of my visits to Switzerland, a country I didn’t like much. Very orderly and all that, but somehow a bit antiseptic.

As you did not grasp the difference between possession orders and foreclosure, I suggest that you direct your efforts to English land law. If you do so, you will find the field quite knotty, but I have every confidence in your ability.

Brian, I cannot think what has become of my manners. I should have started this letter by offering you my sympathy in respect of your road accident. I hope you are battling back to full health. You might like to know that I was involved in a similar incident some time ago, when I ran over a cyclist while on my way home from a late-night party. The fellow turned out to be quite troublesome and made a terrible fuss. Admittedly his machine was wrecked, but his personal discomfiture was limited to a broken leg, various lacerations, an injury to his neck (which he insisted on keeping in one of those brace things for a few months), plus damage to what he claimed was his best suit – a set of off-the-peg rags which could not have cost him much.

I apologise for returning to sporting analogies, but having perceived at once that this chap was disposed to conduct himself like a footballer who takes a dive in the hope of securing a penalty, I had to do some quick thinking. While he was writhing around, feigning genuine discomfort, I took the precaution of removing the battery from his front lamp and smearing a little roadside mud – happily we had rain that day – over his rear reflector, thus placing him in a questionable position with regard to his bike’s roadworthiness. Had he chosen to make anything of the matter, his situation in the case of police intervention would have been precarious. In fact, in all probability he would not have had a leg to stand on. Well, he would have one leg, but you know what I mean. Anyway, I replaced his steed and his wardrobe, without prejudice – you will surely be familiar with this legal term and will understand that my actions stemmed from goodness of heart, and did not imply any culpability on my part.