THE VILLAGE : Part 12 - I'm like a cat I always land on my feet.

This is Trevose Lighthouse. Lights such as these were used by the Cornish to lure literally trillions of mariners to their deaths on the rocks below. Oh no wait that's yet another lie the English made up about a people they colonized then drove from their homeland.

(The copyright of this picture is the property of The Cornwall Guide)

So much of life is about timing that there simply has to be a self help book out there stating this. More likely there are dozens. When the only self help book that should exist is a book telling you that if you want to help yourself you should write a self help book. Then you can take the royalties do all the lecture tours and never have to work again for the rest of your life. The secret is timing. Many top CEO's and other corporate executives have benefited greatly from it. Believe it or not at least two thirds of their number either provide no extra value to their company or actually reduce value. If you study the financial press you will encounter articles praising these multi-million dollar fuck wits. Stating how they've raised turnover and profits and pretty much performed miracles. Then that super executive will be headhunted by a bigger company for a much bigger salary with even more benefits.

A year later that company is fucked. Their super CEO is shit at his job. He was always shit at his job only nobody noticed, because his previous company did so well. What is the explanation? Well it turns out that if you're the only person selling ice cream on a hot day you make a lot of money. A company growing into an expanding market is child's play. A sack of monkeys could occupy the board room. Profits rise only because that sector is growing rapidly. The only reason that piece of shit was ever considered good at his job was down to timing. Being in the right place at the right time. Don't worry though. When his new employer finds out he's as much use as a tampon in a toaster, they fire him. He keeps the share options worth millions (although a lot less than they were worth before he joined) and is paid off for the full length of his contract plus a bonus, for being a useless cunt presumably. Never make the mistake of believing you live in a meritocracy.

The opposite, of course, is also true. Timing can make you look so bad it's embarrassing. Especially when it kills you. Imagine a car driving along on a cold winters day. It hits a patch of ice that sends it spinning across into the wrong carriageway. The drivers heart races, but they are fine. No harm done. They take the warning and drive far more carefully. Just suppose though, that at the moment they slid across the road a fully loaded 18 wheeler was headed in the opposite direction. That car is now scrap metal and the occupants are all dead. Good or bad, timing makes a huge difference to almost every aspect of life. The thing is that mostly we have no control over timing, although we would like to think we do we don't. Like when everybody is bad mouthing the boss and as soon as you join in he or she arrives right behind you. Sobering thought isn't it. That despite all our dreams and aspirations and our plans we have absolutely no control over whether they will succeed. You'll see interviews with people who delude themselves into think they had control. Like that super CEO. Who will spend very little time unemployed before he's snapped up by another company that could be run by toddlers. Then he can be shit at his job again.

Allowing Sophie and Stephanie into her home made Darcy self conscious. She became intensely aware of how low she'd fallen. There was an insistent need to apologize for the fact she could not afford to pretty the place up. To accept responsibility for something that was not her fault. Which combined with resentment for accepting that responsibility. Essentially she was resenting herself. That was becoming an all too familiar feeling. Three mismatched chairs around a wobbly kitchen table with a piece of folded cardboard under one leg that increased stability enough to render it usable. Darcy was feeling nervous and tense in what, for the foreseeable future was her home. Made worse by her already feeling tense and nervous for other far more valid reasons. However fortunately for Darcy she'd opened her door to Sophie.

Sophie was a riddle, wrapped inside a mystery surrounded by an enigma wearing authentically designed historical costumes. Unique is a superlative that was far too weak to describe this woman. Until linguists came up with a more suitably descriptive superlative, unique would have to do. She and Stephanie stood there for a few moments taking in their salubrious surroundings. Then Darcy found herself in a fierce hug. One that restricted her breathing. One that lasted an awful lot longer than she was entirely comfortable with. She looked at Stephanie for help. Steph shrugged, rolling her eyes, signalling that it was best to simply let this happen. Eventually Sophie released her from the death grasp. Stepping back to hold Darcy's arms instead. Giving her a comforting smile and releasing her once more. Darcy instinctively sat in the worst chair and signaled for her guests to sit also. Stephanie did so but Sophie clasped her hands behind her back then began pacing from the table to the doorway of the living room and back. Darcy gave Steph a questioning look. The young lady carefully wrote something on one of the invoices. "Relax. It's Sophie's way. It's a setup", which didn't mean anything and wasn't particularly reassuring. A set up for what? The subject of the note now stood in the doorway to the living room. From where she addressed Darcy.

"You're black aren't you? Thought so. Not much gets past me. Stay sharp that's my motto. Be prepared for anything." At this point she leaned back. Falling into the living room. With a bone jarring thud. Stephanie restrained Darcy from getting up. Sophie sprang into view from the floor of the next room. "I'm like a cat I always land on my feet. I got street smarts see. Been walking these mean streets all my life. I can feel the pulse of this buzzing metropolis. East Side. West Side. Up side, down side and upside down side. Can you feel the throbbing Darcy? Can you? I know I can. The question is can you? I do hope someone is taking notes here because this is pure gold here and five minutes from now I'll have forgotten all about it. For instance did you know there's a Crocodile Dentist under your sofa? No need to thank me. I'm just glad I could be of help. Another mystery solved. What do you say Stephanie?"
"I'm not biting Soph. Can we get on with this please. Some of us have lives you know. And before you say anything I am referring to Darcy. Now sit down. I do apologize for my colleague's aberrant conduct Darcy. I'd like to say it's all an act, but I'd be lying. This isn't even her highest setting. The sooner we chose all your replacement furnishings the sooner we can really get to know each other."
Ah bemusement, Darcy thought, back again in strength I see.
"Um before that. Is there any chance my car was stolen? That isn't insured either."

That was a theft too far Steph explained. The problem with a car was that it was so large the police would actually look for it. Worse than that it would make Sergeant Tony look bad. One road into the village, one road out. He'd look like an idiot. This seemed insane given that Darcy was making a fraudulent insurance claim where the entire contents of a house had supposedly been removed in one lump. It was insane. Of course it was insane but that was how modern UK policing malfunctioned. Its priorities were determined by committees of morons who decided which crimes were worth the effort. Morons who lived in affluent areas, full of police officers, with very low levels of crime. Drugs were at the top of the list as always. Which is all the more incredible given that very few people are ever drugged against their will and most of those are in lunatic asylums.

Darcy found herself having a good time, much to her surprise. Stephanie and Sophie were good company once you were aware of their dynamic. Sensible sister and crazy sister. With subtle hints that they would instantly swap roles in different situations. With the help of Doogie and Doidge, she'd chosen her new decor. It was a case of choosing things that would fit into that or more accurately wouldn't clash. Excitement crept into her soul. Tempered by that justified paranoia she'd recently grown accustomed to. The feeling that this would all vanish without trace once fate caught up. Sadness and a sense of guilt, because she dared not share any of this. By the time they'd finished selecting new things the ladies were laughing and giggling. Darcy had also discovered how to make a proper cup of British tea. Stephanie had even promised to show her how to make real tea one day.

"I'll scan and email everything tonight." Steph stated. "Emphasizing vulnerable woman with child. All on her own in the middle of nowhere with no one to turn to yadda, yadda, yadda. Time is of the essence etc. Should all be sorted out inside ten working days. And if it isn't boy will you get pissy with them. If necessary I'll alternate between pissy and tearfully distraught. That always works, especially when you threaten to give a one star review of their service."
"You've both been very kind." Darcy said "Helping me commit this crime. Nobody has ever done that for me before. They've never had to. I'm genuinely touched, in a nice way."
"Cool." Sophie grinned. "Do people say that anymore? I know I do. I expect it's gone the way of ace and other approving phrases. I like cool though. So let's get down to real business. Are you cool enough to be in our gang Darcy? Are you?"
"I think so. You said you have fun. What kind of fun might that be?"
"Well that depends on what type of girl you are. For example do you like oiling up and rolling around naked with other like minded ladies?"
"I don't think so."
Stephanie let out a relieved sigh.
"Thank God for that. Thing is Darcy, life around here can be very boring most of the time. Therefore the fun has to take any form it can. You can't plan it out. We see an opportunity. We seize the opportunity. We have fun. Mostly harmless." here she gave Sophie a mildly disapproving look. "Sometimes pretty dangerous, rarely life threatening. We were hoping you'd bring some ideas of your own. We're always happy to give anything a try in the pursuit of enjoyment. Often we find we don't know we've enjoyed it until after it's over."
"Has my interview started yet?" The two visitors nodded. "Are there any rules I should be aware of before I join?"
Sophie answered immediately.
"There's only one rule in our gang. We hate blondes. Gingers are okay as long as they aren't strawberry. Sure Tall Girl is blonde, every now and then, but so am I. It's purely for legal purposes I assure you. Do you hate blondes Darcy? Do ya?"
"Not all of them."
Steph and Sophie had a whispered discussion.
"That's a good start. It may be because you get a better quality of blonde in the States. Over here they just roll off the production line and straight onto a mans dick. It's a manufacturing problem we think. Which is why they have really short warranty's. I'm not sure. I've forgotten far more than I ever knew."
Darcy blinked, almost spoke. Rearranged her thoughts and words. Backed up and came at it from a slightly different direction.
"Um personal question here. One I would really like an answer to. What gives with you Sophie? What gives?"
Sophie gave her an approving nod with a pleasant smile.
"Acquired brain injury. Accident 6 years ago. Scrambled my brains. Pretty much a cabbage for a year or so. Came out of a coma and I'd completely lost my shit. Couldn't walk, couldn't talk and my memory of most of my life was gone. It's why they gave me Luke. I used to wander off. Parents didn't like that."
All of that delivered like a shopping list. No emotion involved. Simply items ticked off. Which paradoxically made Darcy feel all the more awful. She was about to apologize when she saw Stephanie shake her head with a weak smile. It still felt like she'd shot Bambi's mother then eaten her raw. Best to play safe.
"What about you Stephanie?"
"I'm the stereotypical Plain Jane Super Brain. Really ugly kid. Luckily I didn't know how ugly I actually was. Pretty sheltered upbringing in most senses. My dad is the vicar of this parish. Top grades all the way through school. My mother died a couple of years ago at which point I reconnected with my family in Hong Kong, that's where my mum and dad met. Pretty dull really."
Oh dear. Darcy had that awful moment when she understood how idiotic she'd been. They'd be perfectly entitled to ask about her now. The cover story she'd invented wouldn't stand up under even the flimsiest of examinations. Sophie saved her.
"Well my colleague and I are satisfied with your bona fides. You are now eligible to join our gang. After a short probationary period, barring incidents, you'll become a fully fledged member of our fraternity. Or sorority if you prefer. Now it just so happens that I myself am interviewing for the position of BFF. My previous one deserted me by travelling half way round the world two years ago. Never phoned, never wrote. Left me here on my own."
Stephanie exploded.
"Bullshit. I Skyped you at least once a day every day. Sometimes for hours..." Sophie was laughing at her. "You bitch. Why do I fall for it almost every time? You are the worst BFF ever. So Darcy I've got this position which has only this moment become open. Are you interested?"
"Couldn't I become BFF's with both of you. Eventually I mean. After my short probationary period perhaps?"
Sophie looked at one another and nodded.
"Cool. I'm still not sure it's still a thing. We've taken up enough of your time already. Before we go might I use your toilet facilities?"
Why did Steph do the eyeroll again? Why did Sophie ignore it?
"Sure. Top of the stairs. The door's right in front of you." Sophie made her way up while Darcy and Stephanie made small talk about the days events. Sophie was taking a very long time. Should she check? It wouldn't hurt. Darcy trotted up. Not in the bathroom. Instead Sophie was stood at one end of the landing. She smiled and waved then set off running. Taking a perfect swan dive through the open window. "Oh Jesus Christ." Darcy exclaimed loudly. Almost tripping as she ran back down.
"It's okay. She'll be fine. If Soph doesn't make a big entrance she has to make an even bigger exit. Oh that reminds me. You'll need an internet connection. I'll get Big Jeff to sort that out for you." Stephanie made a note.
"If it's alright with you I'd like to check. There's nothing below that window except concrete."
Outside was the next surreal encounter. Sophie astride a horse again. This time dressed as a cowgirl. Twirling two six guns. One of which she used to push up the brim of the hat on her now blonde head.
"Well thank you kindly for your hospitality. I'm a fixin to mosey on back to the ranch. So long pretty lady."
The horse reared up as before and then set off at a gallop almost stepping over the low fence. Stephanie had joined Darcy outside.
"How does she do it?" Darcy asked. "How the hell does she do it? Full costume change and a horse? It's a different horse for Christ's sake. A completely different animal. The only two horse I've seen since I arrived here and she's riding both."
Steph laid a hand on her back from behind.
"That's nothing where Sophie's concerned. What really puzzles me is the wigs. Where does she get those wigs? Real hair ones aren't cheap. Anyway have to dash Darcy. We'll catch you later. Gotta run she's already got a head start"
Darcy turned to say good bye. To the back of a speeding ninja who had just vaulted over a tall hedge as if it wasn't there.
She had to hold her sides with mirth.
"Holy crap. That isn't even the correct racist stereotype. Does that mean they cancel each other out? What the hell have I signed up for?"