I am Jessica Fletcher! By which I mean, gosh, I really must make more effort not to get drunk and accuse complete strangers of kidnapping other complete strangers. At the start of the night I was standing behind an oldish man in a fedora at the cashpoint when a young man approached and I heard this:
Tousled hair: We all sorted?
Fedora: So, tell me, what happens now?
Tousled hair: Well, we go back to the Forth, then, as I mentioned earlier, we will meet up with some friends of mine and then see where we go from there.
It doesn't sound quite so suspicious now, admittedly. If I said that the old man looked vulnerable and the young man looked sly-eyed would it make the scene seem any more sinister? Would it make it seem more natural that, when I saw them in the pub later, I asked the old fellow (who turned out to be a Norwegian Ian Maclellan... sorry! A NorwegIan Maclellan) if everything was alright and outlined my concerns? And if I said that the group of young people had a slightly sneery attitude to the man would it make it seem any more natural that I assumed that he was about to be taken to a house of horrors where he would be used for ritual torture and killed? It made perfect sense to approach Tousled at the bar and start 'Maybe I've been watching too much Miss Marple, but...'
He claimed that he was just being friendly and had offered to put up this Norwegian Author when he'd met him in the pub. Yeah. Likely story.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Long lost pals
When I haven't been in contact with someone for a very long time, getting in contact again is always a bit awkward, starting either with an apology: 'so sorry I haven't been in touch'; or an accusation: 'where have you been hiding?!' How refreshing, then, to hear from Claire Barkel for the first time in a year, with the text message: 'I love Leonard Cohen! Why didn't I believe you?!'
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