TT 34 - Gabriel Buys a Box-full

Gabriel Lamb can hear the tinny christmas music coming from the High Street. He turns over on his side and stretches out an arm but the bed is empty. He remembers that Jasmine had to get back to London for an audition. He tilts his watch up from the bedside cabinet. It's nearly half-past seven. Since he came to Tendringhoe his hours have become increasingly erratic. Now he is practically on a night shift. Last night he stayed up to the early hours with friends, drinking whiskey and catching up with the latest theatrical gossip from London. He's glad Jasmine stayed over. He knows that since the play closed she's been seeing a musician, much closer to her own age, but it's nice that they can still enjoy the occasional night together. He rolls onto his stomach and luxuriates in the softness of the sheets for just a few moments more, then gets up with a huff of concentrated effort and puts on a CD. It's Brahm's piano quintet in F major: one of his favorites. It's just so intense.

He stands naked at the window, his hands cupping his nose in a praying gesture, his thumbs hooked under his well-defined jaw-line, and comes to terms with the day that is already night. He can see the church tower with its Christmas lights. He doesn't pull the curtains. Only the small illuminated angel on the tower's west face can see back in through the window and she won't tell anyone. He takes his cigarettes from the chest of drawers and lights one. He scratches his right eyebrow then his left armpit and wonders how he should spend his waking hours until the sun comes up again and he retreats to his bed. Perhaps he should wander up to the High Street and see what's going on. He might be able to get some ideas for the radio play he's working on. Yes. That's what he'll do. He'll go up to the church and collect some material from the real world.

Gabriel dresses in black jeans, a grey cashmere sweater, a pair of hand-made brown brogues and his trade-mark long, dark overcoat. At the last moment he adds a silk paisely scarf. It belonged to his grandfather and he always feels a little more protected from the world when he's wearing it.

When Gabriel gets to Joyce Kettle's stall all the best cakes have gone but this doesn't matter because Joyce herself has plenty to offer. Joyce remembers Gabriel from when he was so-high, and now he's all grown-up and on the telly and its nothing short of a miracle. Joyce has also sprained her wrist. Her spaniel Tucker pulled her over on some wet leaves outside the post-office but she's got it well strapped up now and she'll survive. Gabriel gathers Joyce's verbal flotsam carefully in the nets of his literary memory and moves on to the next stall. He wants to know how long the grey-haired lady with the two butterfy hair-clips on either side of her brow spends making quilted cosies in the shapes of animals? Where did she get the idea? Do the cosies have names? All of which comes under the general heading of 'How mad are you exactly?', although he never articulates the question as such. She says she got the idea from Bella. Gabriel, who is not familiar with this publication, thinks Bella is the quilted-cat-lady's best friend. Since he has just divined that the quilted-cat-lady's own name is Ella he enjoys this detail.

Gabriel pushes his way up to the ever-popular second-hand book stall.
"Hi." He says to the woman who is tidying up the Jilly Coopers to make room for an unexcepected donation of the entire series of 'Confessions' books.
"Hi." She says back with a smile. She is about his age, maybe a little younger, and more attractive than the average stall-holder. "I can recommend this if you're looking for a challenging read?" She says, holding up Confessions of a Plumber.
"Oh, I've read that one, thanks." He says, matching her ironic twinkle. "Mind you" he adds, "I should think these are collectors items now."
"You're probably right." She laughs. "I can do you the whole lot for a fiver."
"Yeah. Go on. Why not!"
"Really?"
"Sure." Gabriel is laughing now, not just socially but because he really does find the whole idea amusing. The woman pops the books back into the box and exchanges them for a five pound note.
"It's for a good cause." She says, pointing to the Sight-Savers International poster cellotaped to the front of the table.
"Even better."
She holds his eye for a moment and a thoughtful expression comes over her face. "Do I know you from somewhere? You look very familiar."

This presents something of a problem for Gabriel. If someone says this to him in London he can be pretty sure they recognise him from his TV work; mostly bit-parts in Casualty and The Bill, but recently a more substantial role in a Ruth Rendell mystery. (He's never recognised for his theatrical work.) Here, in his home town, on the other hand, it's possible that someone genuinely recognises him, perhaps from school.
"Well, I grew up here." He explains. "And my father still lives in the village. Geoffrey Lamb?"
She shakes her head. "No. I don't think I know you from here. I've only lived here a couple of months myself."
"Well" Gabriel supresses a smile. "I'm an actor, actually. I've done a few little TV roles... so maybe..."
"Oh yes - that's it!" She puts her finger tips on her mouth. "I'm sorry. That must be really annoying."
"Not really."

"Oh God - I remember now!" She says, suddenly excited.
Gabriel braces himself for "You're the mad doctor that killed all his patients" but instead she starts to sing.
"Tiny Tom, Tin-y To-om. Your little toilet pal that lasts the whole flush lo-ong"
"Oh Good Lord, that was years ago!" Gabriel says as though he can scarcely cast hs mind back that far.
"Wow! The guy from the Tiny Tom ad., I can't wait to tell my friends." She says with a big smile. Gabriel can't help finding her ironic twinkle somewhat less charming now.
She composes herself. "So what are you doing these days?"
"I've just played The Duke of Norfolk in A Man for All Seasons at the Haymarket." Gabriel Lamb says rather crisply and he picks up the entire set of Confessions books and tucks them under his arm.
"Oh that's great." she says but her eyes are still dancing from her Tiny Tom performance.
"Well, it pays the rent." he says. Then he gives her one of his sexy smiles but her expression doesn't change.
"Well, enjoy the books." She bursts out laughing again.
Gabriel squeezes out a smile. "Mmmm, well, I'll try." He turns and walks away with what he hopes is a stylish swagger, which isn't easy when you're balancing 5 kilos of comic erotica on your hip.