by Gill Mather
“I had to go to the hospital and get it stitched. The stitches have to be taken out tomorrow. I’m afraid I had to give your surname and date of birth and this address. The police wanted to charge the men who did it but I said I didn't want to give a statement so they won't get charged. You said I shouldn't get involved with the authorities.”
“No. It’s best not to. Triss, you mustn't leave again like that. Anything could happen to you.”
“I don’t know why I left now. Doing what we do together is the most wonderful divine exquisite thing in the whole universe. In any universe. Before I had this body, I couldn't have imagined what a man might feel for a woman. There are no words to really describe it. It’s uplifting in every sense. It seems to transcend the physical mind and body.”
“Triss, can’t you tell me where you really come from.”
“I’m not sure I want to burden you with it. You probably won’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
“I don't think it’s a good idea. I think you know already anyway. But if I put it into words it’d sound impossible to you. And from what I’ve learned about this place, if you were to tell anyone else, they’d think you were a mental case too as Georgie would put it. Can it not just be our understanding.”
“OK. But can you tell me things about it at least. For instance, how it could be that you know all this stuff and how you could exist without any physical form at all?”
“We had some physical form millions of years ago, but we evolved beyond that. Now we’re just light or energy. That’s the nearest explanation I can give. We inhabit the same space as you therefore we know what’s going on in your world and others like it and absorb it as pure knowledge. With no physical brain to restrict us, there are no bounds to our knowledge. But none of it…bothers us. We have no hormones or other physical characteristics to provide us with urges of any kind. We don't feel any emotion at what goes on in this world. We’re just conscious of it. That’s all. We don't judge. That’s what I find so difficult to understand about someone like Georgie. Looking at her and listening to her, she has nothing much to commend her, and yet she finds it in herself to be critical of me. And as for the cousins, well they behave like wild animals.”
“Just wait `til you meet my brothers properly then! But Triss, why are you here at all? How did you get here and why can't you get back?”
“It was a rare….slippage, a meeting of the two worlds, the two dimensions. There I’ve told you really haven't I. It hardly ever happens. It was an accident if you like. That’s why I can't go back.”
“Is that what happens to people here when they die? Do their souls or whatever go over to your dimension?”
“I’m afraid not. When you die, that’s the end of it. There’s nothing after that. The energy or field that keeps you alive drifts off but it isn't a soul as some people like to believe. It doesn't have any personality or consciousness. It just acts as particles would act. Being attracted one way or another, being absorbed here and there and eventually breaking down completely.”
“So why did you come here as a human? Why did you come over as a man? Why not a woman or a dog or a snail?”
“I’m not really sure about that. There’s hardly any precedent for what happened to me. I think it must be something to do with the fact that we did once have bodies and at that time they would have been distinctly male and female. It must be a throwback to some ancestor. As for inhabiting the body of a dog or snail, it probably wouldn't be possible. The creature would go mad.”
“Did you take over the body of an existing person?”
“No. This is really me.”
“I’m glad you came here as a man, with all the right equipment,” she said reaching down to touch his penis. He reacted instantly.
“Orie, can we do it one more time and then I’ll go and make you a cup of tea.”
ORIELLE SUDDENLY HAD a brain wave. It burst into her conscious mind to remember what she’d thought when she started at PWT about Triss being able to do the tax planning work standing on his head and decided it would do no harm to approach Seb and see if he’d be prepared to take Triss on to do some sort of work experience at PWT. She was bored stiff at the moment anyway looking through her police station representative notes during a rare break in the work this Monday morning. Her mind kept drifting back to Triss’s sudden return. It was impossible to concentrate properly on anything else. Triss had brought her breakfast in bed that morning, tea and a boiled egg with toast soldiers and he’d done the same for Georgie to apparently ingratiate himself with her. Orielle had been flabbergasted that he’d bothered. He had sat on the bed and watched Orielle eat the egg with a sickly expression, but had forborne to remind her that the object she was shovelling down came out of a hen’s bottom and was an unfertilised ovum. Or worse, depending on the egg’s provenance, a fertilised ovum meaning that it contained a dead early-stage embryo!
So to divert herself she picked up the `phone, dialled PWT and was put through to Seb immediately.
“Seb. I’ve got this boyfriend. He’s….um….he’s unable to get a regular job because he’s got no identity documentation. He’s not an illegal alien…..well….” she trailed off for a moment. Actually he was very alien. And apparently illegal. Recovering she pressed on, “Anyway, he’s very good at maths and logic and things. I just wondered….I wondered if maybe he could come and get some practice at what you do. On a sort of informal basis. I haven't actually said anything to him yet. I thought I’d better speak to you first.”
As she’d hoped he would be, Seb was very enthusiastic about the idea and they arranged that Triss would start later in the week if he was interested.
Triss said he would try it. Orielle, in a haze of optimism, wasn't surprised that he made very little comment. Anyway they’d gone straight to bed for several hours when she got home from work and everything else paled by comparison. Lunchtime the next day he walked into town and met her to be taken round the charity shops to buy him a suit, some shirts and a pair of shoes. He looked very smart in the charity shop suit on its own as she looked him up and down but to round it off, she started to pick out ties. However he refused point blank to consider wearing a tie saying he couldn't. It would strangle him. Orielle thought about Nick Farrow and decided that it would be OK. She put the suit in for a 24 hour clean and said to Triss not to bother to wash the shirts. She wanted to do them herself. She couldn't risk his cold water/no detergent approach leading to a dingy grey unappealing result. She wanted them to be sparkling clean. She knew she was getting too excited but couldn't help it. He was back. And he was getting a chance at a reasonable occupation. And he loved her.
“MR. FERGUSON’S ON THE `phone for you,” said Deirdre and put Seb straight through without waiting for a reply. Orielle gritted her teeth.
Oh no! What’s happened! she thought automatically.
“Hello Seb. How’s everything?,” she said a little guardedly.
“Well. Fantastic actually.” Orielle’s heart rate dropped to normal.
“Oh yes. Well good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“Your friend is….well….more than a natural at this job. I’ve never come across anyone like him. He really should get some qualifications and make a career out of it. You should suggest it to him.”
The call finished. This was far better than Orielle could have hoped. Triss had been with PWT for two weeks and she hadn’t managed to get a shred of information out of him apart from how exasperating he found the clients. They were, he said, devoid of all logic and all seemed to go around in a bubble in which only their own concerns featured for them. For example, he had lost count of the number of times he’d looked at a file and seen a note saying the client had telephoned or even emailed and asked for everything to be put on hold but then the next time they called they wanted to know why nothing had been done and seemed to expect the firm to just know without being told that whatever it was they had been waiting for had occurred.
“I hope
you’re not rude to them,” Orielle had said, worrying that this little experiment would turn sour before it had barely got off the ground.
“What do you mean?” Triss had replied. Sometime she had to wonder if he was being disingenuous but Orielle had just sighed and advised him to try not to take these people too seriously. It was just what people seemed to be like with their Solicitors. It didn't seem to work with doctors or dentists or accountants. If you didn't communicate your wishes and instructions you had only yourself to blame. But Solicitors seemed to be in a different category and were expected to somehow accommodate every last whim of their clients whether clearly expressed or not.
“Several seemed to think I should have called them on their mobiles when they haven't given any mobile number on their instructions form.”
“Well try not to let it bother you,” Orielle had told him.
“It doesn't actually bother me. It’s their choice not to provide full information. Usually I don't actually say anything to them because they often don't pose questions directly. They make points. They say things like: ‘You could have called me on my mobile.’ There’s nothing to actually reply to.”
Orielle knew how literally Triss took things and that he wouldn't react to tones of voice. She could well imagine the surprise and indignation of these clients who were only really getting what they deserved but they wouldn't see it that way.
“Orielle I’m not stupid. I do understand. But I’m not prepared to play their silly games.”
“No. Right,” she had said. “But anyway, do you quite like being there? You do don't you?”
He had looked down at her worried face and smiled. She always melted when he smiled at her like that.
“If it makes you happy I like it,” he said. “It’s your world and it’s very nice that we should be doing the same sort of work. After a fashion.” He had surprised himself to be using an expression not literally meant. “Come here.” And the conversation had ended there for the time being.
Nevertheless, the things he’d mention and some other contradictory things that people did and said had started to cause Triss irritation. He wasn't used to feeling such things and wanted to rise above it but found increasingly that he couldn't. He felt again that these human traits were overtaking him which in some ways he welcomed. Life it seemed, as lived by these humans with their odd sense of humour and constant plays on words, use of idioms, figures of speech, innuendo and under-statement which he could well understand but was only now beginning to appreciate and embrace, was seductive. He would he decided laugh with Orielle about the things that had happened at work which is what they did later. This law was her world and he was now part of it and they might thereby become even closer.
SEB’S ENTHUSIASM FOR the schemes dreamed up by Triss allowed him to overlook a number of complaints from clients. Words like “supercilious” and “extraordinary rudeness” were blustered at the other end of the line. Seb took to listening in on some of Triss’s telephone calls and found them frankly hilarious. He could imagine the steam being generated and given off at the other end and wished he could deliver such effortless put downs though it didn't look as though Triss regarded them as such. And of course he couldn't say the same sorts of things to clients himself without his department being in danger of folding. But when Triss said them and clients later got heatedly on the telephone to him to remonstrate with him, Seb could make excuses such as that Triss was new at the job, wasn’t used to dealing with members of the public yet, yes he did take things rather literally but he meant well and was trying to improve his people skills, etc, etc. Seb sometimes had to put his hand over the mouthpiece as he laughed helplessly at some of the things he was told.
None of this detracted from the fact that Triss was supremely good at the job, the best in fact Seb had ever come across, clear thinking, a monumental memory for detail and tax law, almost impossibly rapaciously so.
FROM TIME TO TIME PWT held little soirées after the office closed, sometimes for clients, sometimes for professionals contacts and other professionals. Tonight’s was for other professionals. Hugh and Amanda were invited and of course Orielle as she had worked there before and now Triss was there. Orielle walked there with Hugh and Amanda, worrying as usual how Triss would behave. He wouldn't want to be there at all and everyone would get merry on the booze on offer especially since tomorrow was the start of the Easter holiday and he’d hate that and might say something out of turn. Despite organising Triss’s stint at PWT, she’d never actually seen Triss and Seb together. She wondered how they actually got on. Triss didn't like discussing relationships (apart from theirs thankfully) so she had no idea.
It was a late Easter this year, well into April and was quite a warm evening so Orielle had her coat over her arm. Amanda was pretty big by now and was soon starting her maternity leave. At least she wouldn't be drinking alcohol. Orielle would try not to but when she was worried she tended to swig it down to help her relax.
“I suppose you couldn't try to talk to Triss,” she asked Amanda. “He won't drink alcohol and you won't be either whereas everyone else will.”
“Well I’ll try,” Amanda laughed. They all knew Triss could be heavy going much of the time.
“Thanks.”
They were there now and Hugh stood back to let the ladies go up the steps first.
Orielle saw Triss as soon as she went through the swing doors into the reception area. He was standing drinking a glass of still water and had a far away look on his face. It was what Orielle privately called his “Oh sod this I’m going to switch off” look. On seeing Orielle, he came over and touched her hand briefly and the gesture and what the contact did to her made her smile brilliantly up at him. The look of acknowledgement he gave her would have passed unnoticed to almost anyone else but it conveyed to her a huge amount. Hugh and Amanda were watching with interest.
“Well,” said Amanda, “I’ll go and catch up with Cathy.”
“Yes, you do that. I suppose I’d better go and speak to Baz. He’s got some client who’s disgraced himself in various ways and is probably going to need our help at some point,” said Hugh. “It’s too specialised for the criminal guy here,” he added and they both walked off.
You should, thought Orielle, circulate. She would quite have liked to go and talk to Cathy too, but she didn't want to leave Triss on his own. In this vein, she suddenly thought to ask:
“How are you getting on with Cathy? We got quite friendly when I was working here and you were, well, gone. I told her about you and me and she’s a pretty big gossip so she must be quite interested in you.”
“I haven't noticed,” said Triss predictably.
“You must’ve spoken to her once or twice.”
“She’s spoken to me yes but I have very little to say to her. She’s one of the most trivial humans I’ve come across.”
“Triss,” hissed Orielle, “you mustn’t say that.”
“What?”
“Humans!”
Triss just looked down at her.
“It sounds strange. You should say ‘people’.” She knew he didn't care but she had to try.
Just then however there was a roar of laughter from a group nearby and Seb beckoned Triss over.
“I was afraid of this,” Triss said and they walked across the room.
“Hello Orielle,” Seb said incidentally. “Listen to this,” he said to the group around him. The group of practitioners were grinning away in a half-cut fashion. Seb might or might not have been sober but it was hard to tell with him since he seemed to be on a natural high all the time.
“The other morning this client was calling for a progress report,” said Seb already having difficulty speaking. His laughter was taken up by the other men and women. “He’d brought his aunt to the firm for tax planning and because she didn't want her estate to go to her own children. So Triss here looks up the file and sees the client only instructed the firm the previous day at 3.45pm and said that to this man. So I w
ent and picked up an extension.
“ ‘Yes but she’s deteriorating’ said the man, so Triss said:
‘Is she receiving medical attention?’ and he said:
‘That’s of no concern to you.’ so Triss said:
‘I imagine it is to her though.’
“This bloke started to get angry; he was going:
‘Look young man I’ve…...’ and Triss said:
‘My name is Tristram Banks.’ ”
It had just slipped out. His name!
“Which it is,” Triss now said.
“`Course,” said Seb. “So this man said ‘I’ve a good mind to report you to Seb Ferguson.’ And Triss said:
‘As you wish.’ So the man gave up and said:
‘Look, just tell me what progress there’s been.’ And Triss said:
‘Well, since 3.45 yesterday afternoon, I’ve drawn …..' how many was it you said?”
“About 20,000 breaths.”
“And then Triss said something like ‘Depending on your state of health and how active you are you’ve probably drawn a similar number. By about eight o’ clock this evening, that will be increased to around….' what was it you said?”
Triss sighed. “33,900.”
“Then Triss said ‘You may well have excreted….' what was it you said?”
“About six hundred and seventy millilitres of urine.”
“Yes ‘of urine’,” Seb was almost in tears now and the group around him were falling about, “ ‘if your kidneys are in good working order and you drink an average amount of fluid ….’. And at that point this man slams the `phone down.
“It was brilliant Triss, just brilliant,” said Seb wiping his eyes. “He’s such a pompous tight-arsed wind-bag this man. You know this job can be a bit tedious at times,” (I’d never have guessed from the way you usually behave, thought Orielle) “but Triss here has livened things up considerably.”
“Thank you,” said Triss smiling slightly.