| 12:57p |
6 April 1982
Cassie, dearest Cassie,
I'm so glad to get your letter, I was starting to think I would have to come to London to check on you and make sure you weren't dying, no matter what your terrible Sydney had to say about it. I suppose he did tell me everything of importance in the end, and I think I only offended him a tiny bit, but it's so hard to tell. I promise you, I have no idea how you manage to understand a word he says some of the time, he does seem confused or possibly simply confusing. It can be so hard to tell the difference between the two.
But it is a great relief to hear from you, especially that you've gone back to your salon, and are walking there no less -- you simply can't be ill anymore if you're working, and walking back and forth, but you will be careful and not overdo it, won't you? But I suppose your Syd will take care of that, although if you start sounding ill again I could come and check on you now, since everything here has resolved itself in the most tidy manner imaginable.
No, not everything. But the whole business with Sam and Acantha and everyone disappearing, and possibly the ghost although there really wasn't anything to resolve so it's rather strange that it ended up resolved anyway. But that's really neither here nor there, the important thing is that enough of the really worrying stuff has been resolved that I really feel quite comfortable with inviting people to dinner again and not spending all my time fussing about Sam. It's the strangest feeling.
Even though I must admit that all the problems with being here in the first place and the horrors being dreadful haven't quite resolved themselves. Do you think that's the sort of thing that one quits noticing? Or could it have gotten better? Even Acantha and Dardanos spending all their time talking in low voices and glaring at me -- it almost seems friendly, or at least familiar, and it's not as dangerous as falling downstairs, which reminds me -- I think my ankle is getting better. Finally!
But about Sam: it's the most surprising thing! After Acantha disappeared a few days ago and Jasper practically exploded when she didn't show up for lunch (which I thought was entirely understandable -- not showing up, I mean -- since it was leftovers in a casserole, and not the house elf's best effort by any stretch of the imagination), but Jasper didn't see it that way and made even more of a fuss than I ever did over Sam, insisting that she could be in danger and buzzing around Dardanos trying to get him to worry too and sending me off to interview the house elf (which I only did because I'm actually starting to rather like Acantha some of the time -- at least, she's by far the most tolerable of the three, and I'd much rather have her here than not if only because she keeps Jasper from going mad and Dardanos from brooding too much.
So we spent the afternoon sending owls (me) and flooing about (Jasper) and stating crossly that she'd probably just gone for a walk (Dardanos), and then around sunset Jasper checked in with Dardanos's fiancee's family, and she was missing too, and they'd all thought she was here, and then Dardanos went completely mad, really I had no idea he had it in him.
So we were up all night fretting and planning, and after this I really think if either of them try to pretend I'm not a full part of the family I will hit them and then dump a pitcher of cold water over their heads, because what could be more a part of the family than all panicking at the same time?
And then in the morning Acantha walked into breakfast as perfectly cool and composed as she always is, and we all screamed at her and I thought Dardanos was going to shake her but she ducked away and got some porridge and he calmed down. And she explained that she'd had to go into town (after being dreadfully confused by how that could take so long, I finally realized she didn't mean the town that's right down the road, but a bigger and further away town, but I never did figure out where this town is exactly or what it's called) and she and Dardanos's fiancee (whose name is May! I knew it wasn't Mary, although I wouldn't have thought it was May either if Acantha hadn't said it about fifty times that morning -- there's really no way I could have mistaken it.)
Oh, so she and May made a day of it and stayed overnight. I think she took May along because she wanted to get something for her in the city, but that part of the explanation was quite muddled, so I'm not sure. Really it was quite annoying, the whole time she was explaining, she was exchanging meaningful looks with Dardanos, you know the sort, where it means that you mean something that's not exactly what you're saying. Dardanos seemed to understand exactly what she was saying but I don't think Jasper did, which serves him right. Maybe he'll understand how I feel most of the time. But I suppose really it's unfair of me to expect them to not have any secrets, though if I stay here much longer I may be able to figure them out. I already have some ideas about Acantha, though I wouldn't dare bring it up with her. Perhaps I ought to corner Jasper some time and we can talk. Wouldn't that be fun?
But then when we'd all scolded Acantha for disappearing, and she'd explained that she'd left a note, and we went into the hall to look for it (she said she'd left it on the table where the owl post is generally left for people to pick up, if it comes at a bad time -- I mean, whatever Hogwarts may do, you wouldn't expect them to allow owls at the breakfast table, would you? It's simply not done, my dear (in Acantha's best looking down her nose at you tone, mind).
So we went to prove to Acantha that it wasn't there -- and it wasn't, of course! -- and we asked the house elf, and we looked all over, and finally Acantha said accio and it came flying out of a crack behind the table where it had slid or blown or something, and what's more there were other things there and one of them was Sam's letter.
It was a couple of days old and it had apologies for the short notice and an explanation that he'd run into an old friend from the continent and they'd decided spur of the moment to spend a few days together, so he was going to beg off visiting me, and I supposed it made a sort of sense, but really!
So I went into town and asked the solicitor to look after the house for me -- he seemed bewildered, poor dear, but his mother nodded sharply and I knew it was in good hands, not that I think the horrors would burn it down or anything, but still, it's always better to have someone with your own interests in mind who you trust (and I do think I trust the solicitor's mother, at least to keep an eye on things, she's obviously the perfect person for that) -- and then I headed out of town on the first train.
I suppose I could have written, but after all that, and not being able to track him down at all... and the note had an address on it, and I just wanted to be sure.
The truly vexing thing is I'm still not sure. I found Sam, no friend from the continent in sight, but I suppose she might have left before him since he was going to leave that night. The staff person I talked to wouldn't tell me anything, even when I begged and explained everything, it just made her stiffer and more determined to snub me for being an excitable nitwit who wasn't even staying at her hotel. I thought about checking in and then trying again with the status of a guest, but it didn't seem quite worth it.
Anyway, Sam! He was there, and he was fine, which is the important thing, but I do think something seemed off when I talked to him. It may have just been that he thought I was overreacting in coming to find him, though he did seem to understand when I told him about people disappearing, but I don't know.
But he's coming to visit next week now, and he absolutely promised that he would be there early this time to make up for all the worry, and that if he wasn't he would tell someone where he was going to be.
So that's everything settled, and I came back by the next train. I do so love the muggle world, especially their trains. I know it's not nearly as convenient as the floo or apparating, for you lucky people who can do those things, but I don't think either of those could be nearly as fun as a train, where you can sit and look out the window and watch the whole world going by. And relax, because you're on your way and there's nothing to do until you get there. It is so relaxing, there's really nothing else like it. And you never know who will sit near you so you can talk to them.
I talked about embroidery with the dearest woman, and I don't think she guessed that I don't know a thing about embroidery. But she was happy to talk to someone who was interested and listening, and only worried about her granddaughter who seemed to be having some sort of trouble at school, I didn't quite catch the whole story. I kept being distracted thinking about how nice it is that muggles don't know about the war, since you mentioned that in your letter it was at the top of my mind just waiting to be thought about, and I think it's wonderful.
But that reminds me, you're not overworked, are you? You seemed, oh, I know, now I'm thinking everyone seems off, but I don't want you to think that you can't tell me everything, because I would hate it if you were shielding me and I know sometimes I don't like to think about things, but that's a dreadful habit and I don't really mean it. And if you ever want to tell me anything you should tell me and I'll think about it no matter what. You know that, don't you? Like muggles. I suppose you think of them as them, since you're a witch with magic and went to Hogwarts and all that, so you can. It'd be hard for you not to, but really, they're all the nicest people imaginable, except the ones that aren't, but then, wizards are like that too. And it's splendid that they have a whole world that's too big for us to mess up with our wars, and so comforting when I'm worried to think that it'll always be there if I need to get away.
But you were talking about being insignificant, and what I think (I have thought about it a little, but not very much, it's so hard to think about and it doesn't really matter, does it? Would you stop doing what you do because it's insignificant? I wouldn't, I'm really quite sure I wouldn't, because then what would I do?) But what I think is that everyone is insignificant, but not to the people who love them. And not to the people they talk to randomly on a train either, and so that's the only way of being significant, by touching other people's lives and caring. Or not caring and being horrible to people, but that's the wrong way round and if horrible people would just realize that, everything would be much better.
And I know that's simplistic, especially after the war, but if everyone believes that the war was more real than hope it'll keep making everything horrible. It's much better to think of little things that are worthwhile than big things that fall apart. Oh, I wish I could say that so it sounded right, but you know what I mean, don't you?
And speaking of personal and very important things, you're still coming to visit, aren't you? I've completely lost track, when were you coming? You're not going to put it off because you've been ill, are you? Don't let Syd tell you you should, because it's really very restful here, and you can sit down by the ocean and pretend you're really on holiday instead of just visiting my rundown castle (you're confusing Syd by calling it that, did you know? It's really quite amusing, though I suppose it's not very nice of me to think it's very satisfying that he's the one who's confused for once.)
Oh! And the horrors are going to be in London for I think a couple of weeks, so if you come while they're gone, that would be perfect. I don't know if it's anything to do with Gunther or anything to do with something else, they won't talk.
And ironically, as soon as I wrote that Acantha came in and wants to talk to me about something (but not that, you can be sure!), and I think that's everything important anyway, so I'll go now.
Be well, and take care of yourself, you will be careful, won't you? Don't let people bother you.
Yours as always,
Viv |