Where Everything Seems Double, Penny Freedman [best inspirational books txt] 📗

‘Just my phone,’ I correct automatically. ‘Or my phone only.’

‘So complicated,’ he protests.

‘Your spelling is what we need to work on. You have to remember that in English sounds and letters don’t always correspond. And two words can sound the same but be spelt differently. Look here, for instance. You’ve written “I like best the seen where…” That “seen” is when you have seen something. A scene in a play is different – spelt like this.’

I show him my correction and enlightenment dawns. ‘Ah,’ he says. ‘I heard “seens” and I thought they were the pictures we see on the stage. But this is scenǎ.’

‘Exactly. I thought it would be something like that – like the Italian.’

‘But why you don’t say the “c”?’

‘Why don’t you say the “c”? We don’t say it because there are lots of letters we don’t pronounce. English is made up of several languages all blended together, and when the spelling got fixed three hundred years ago the scholars who decided what was correct kept a lot of the original spelling in the languages the words came from, even though they were being pronounced differently. The spelling is like a ghost of pronunciations in the past. It’s not easy even for British children to get it right.’

‘So how I can learn?’

I raise a questioning eyebrow.

‘How can I learn?’ he corrects himself.

‘Reading, for one thing. If nothing else, try to read the newspaper every day. What happens to the papers that are put out in the bar?’

‘Recycled, I suppose.’

‘Well you can pinch them at the end of the day, then.’

‘Pinch?’

‘Steal.’

He looks uncomfortable for a moment and then shrugs. ‘OK,’ he says. ‘I steal.’

‘You don’t like the idea of stealing,’ I say. ‘I think you must be “a worthy gentleman”.’

His English is good enough for him to recognise this as an odd expression.

‘Excuse me?’ he says.

‘A quote from the play. You realise that the name Demetrius in the play is the same as your name? It’s Greek originally, from the goddess of the earth and the harvest, Demeter. It would be a good name for an eco-warrior if you wanted to be one.’

I am losing him, I think. He looks unhappy.

‘I think I am worthy gentleman,’ he says, frowning. ‘I would like to be so.’

‘But?’

‘But I feel bad for what has happened to Ruby, you know.’

‘Do you know what has happened to her?’

‘NO!’ He is so loud that a bird that has been peacefully pecking crumbs off a nearby table takes fright and flight. ‘I meant only I was not there for her. Should be there in her boat with her.’

‘And why weren’t you?’

‘Because of work. I had call to go back to work but when I get there, it is not so busy. I am not necessary.’

‘Who called you?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know? But the call came on your mobile?’

‘No. There is no signal at the theatre. All mobiles are dead. There is landline phone – payphone –near the dressing rooms. The message came to there.’

‘So you didn’t speak to the person who called?’

‘No.’

I wait for more but nothing comes. ‘So who took the message, Dumitru?’

‘Was Eve’s grandson.’

‘Milo?’

‘Yes.’

Milo? Really? Eve must know this, mustn’t she? Why am I being starved of information? What game is she actually playing here? I wonder.

‘And Milo didn’t say who called?’ I ask.

‘No. He doesn’t know the hotel. He said just “message from the hotel”.’

‘And when you got there you didn’t think you were really needed?’

‘No.’

‘But you didn’t try to find out who had called?’

‘No.’ He shrugs. ‘I thought maybe it was the boss – Mr Fenton.’

‘Dominic Fenton, who owns the hotel? Does he manage the staffing himself? Isn’t there a manager?’

Again, a slight shrug. ‘There is manager but Fenton, he doesn’t like that we are in the play.’

‘Why?’

‘Bad for business. The restaurant makes really a lot of money but with the play it is not so busy. Guests eat quickly in the bar, not spend the whole evening eating and drinking.’

‘And you told the police this?’

‘About Mr Fenton. No.’

‘Why not?’

‘They don’t ask.’

If he was as unforthcoming with them as he has been with me, they’ve probably got him tagged as a suspect, I would think, but I suppose it depends on what Milo has said.

‘Well,’ I say, ‘Ruby’s father thinks you’ve abducted her – but I expect you know that.’

Suddenly he leans forward and bangs his forehead histrionically on the table. ‘Why does he say this? She is just a child – thirteen years. Why I would want a child?’

‘Plenty of men do.’

‘Well not this man. I liked her and I was sorry for her. Her father is not a nice man, I think.’

‘And she had a crush on you?’

‘Crush?’

‘Liked you a lot.’

He shrugs. ‘Maybe,’ he says.

This is an awkward conversation and I am uneasily conscious that we have slipped into the past tense when talking about Ruby.

‘Well,’ I say briskly, ‘it’s all a bit of a mess, isn’t it? And it’s worrying for you, I can see. But let’s hope Ruby is found and all is well. Meanwhile, you have an IELTS test to think about, so we’ll get back to this homework of yours and sort out your verb forms. And I think we might try flash cards for the spelling tomorrow. I’ll see if Freda might do some for me. She’s a little artist.’

We both look across to the jetty, where we can just see Freda with her sketchbook.

‘She is enjoying here?’ he asks.

‘I think so.’

‘She likes to observe, I think,’ he says, which strikes me as an odd comment from someone who hardly knows her.

‘Perhaps we all need to be a bit more observant,’ I say. ‘Come on, tenses!’

*

When I have finished with Dumitru I stomp off down to Eve’s studio. I am not actually quite as cross now as I was when Dumitru told me about Milo and the phone message but I puff myself up with outrage to try and buffet some truth out of her, and then am more or less deflated by