smokingboot

A challenge from caddyman; Start with "The wind snatched and flicked flecks of foam from the incoming tide." Work in a reference to a trench coat, a trilby, four mackerel and a spider plant. Finish with "S/he took one last look around the room, gently closed the door and left" See if you can slot a couple of thousand words between those!

"The wind snatched and flicked flecks of foam from the incoming tide?" Once again, I have trusted the pages of your journal to give me some fair indications of where a gentleman may break his fast in this city, and once again, you have presented us with poetry. I treat the advice of poets with caution at the best of times, but in particular where my meals are concerned. The jottings of your latest ~~hack~~prodigy are of no use to me at all. I don't care what the wind is snatching from the surface of the estuary, I wish to know where I may dine.

By way of example, this very morn a glorious Spring moon rises in our skies, hanging over the city in luminescent beauty reflected, not only in our fine fair Isis rolling through the centre of the globe's greatest city; but also in the multitude of lakes gladdening our parks and appetites. Having an engagement with a charming companion, my hope was to induce the good lady to feed on some three or four of the fat mackerel to be found neath the serpentine, and afterwards to consider a little egg laying of our own; for in Spring a young squire's fancy turns to love and that fine moon surely has more to offer than an increase in delectable pond life.

We were taking a turn down the mall when an enormous explosion sounded in our ears, a crashing as of acres of glass, and a whistling cacophony emerged from a nearby mansion. Imagine my companion's distress! Imagine my surprise! Every bird within miles took to the skies, ruining breakfast and any chance of my companion's mood turning to thoughts beyond that most invaluable of repasts. We had to retire to a nearby hostelry, adequate but by no means to the standards of a fresh kill. And whence did all this disturbance begin?

It took no time to find out. We were close by the home of the infamous and frankly foreign Dr Dante Van Teesen. I could not believe it when I found out. Hasn't this fellow been locked up? I recall reading words to that effect in this very newspaper; last year's absurdities were bad enough, please assure me that the capital is not going to be subjected to more. Is the moon not interesting enough without some lunatic firing things at it?

Yours with concern

Edmund Nileson Esq;

Sirs

It is with dismay that I read Mr Nileson's missive in your illustrious publication. I did not know whether to be angry or to laugh at that gentleman's ignorance, but as we know, it is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness. Alas, it may take more than the tiny flicker of my meagre understanding to illuminate the dim cavern within Mr Nileson's cranium, but I will endeavour to the best of my abilities;

First, it is with the utmost apologies that my father, Professor Van Teesen, causes any distress to those seeking repast at the surrounding lakes of the mall, but let us be quite clear; Spring is short-lived, and my father's experiments rely on the closeness of Endymia for any hope of quantifiable results. I recognise that to poor Mr Nileson, the moon is only a symbol of breakfast and company, and it must seem jolly unfair that mere science should get in his way, but so it must be. This was agreed upon by the fellows of the Royal Institute for Scientific and Technological Advancement, when my father appeared before them last year (so much for 'being locked up'! My father's disappearance from society after that was simply as a result of exhaustion . Even the mind of genius needs repose occasionally).

Finally, I should point out that, considering how much he has given to this great land of ours, my father's land of birth should not concern anyone, let alone someone with the ancestry of Mr Nileson.

Yours, I trust, with clarity

Miss Miranda Van Teesen

To: Professor Dante Van Teesen
17 The Lakeside
London,

My dear Dante

Forgive the scribbled haste of this note, what on earth are you doing? Kettering is furious!
Destroying your conservatory is your own affair, though a great pity if I may say so, but to create such a furore in the early hours? It is all over the capital! You promised this would not happen again! They of course want to see you post haste, and I cannot even offer you the hope of delay via the old penny post because Mr Ranunculus' marvellous invention renders same day correspondence not only possible but almost unavoidable. Fortunately for you, the senior members of the committee are inundated with meetings, and it will be at least five days before anything can be organised, unless they are so aggravated they actually cancel the institute's dinner engagements.

I see no hope for you at all if they are that indignant – or that hungry.

Honestly, Dante, sometimes I feel you are your own worst enemy.

Yours despairingly

Alice

My Dear Alice

Forgive me for not standing on ceremony. My vestibule is full of the local constabulary and mewling neighbours and poor Miranda is quite out of her depth with them. Honestly what is wrong with these people? It's only glass! My heartfelt apologies for any difficulties I may have caused you; nothing could be further from my thoughts and wishes - my only regret is the ruin of that beautiful spider plant you gave me last year; the blessed thing was trying to crawl out through the vent when my experiment went off. The good news is that Miranda took some cuttings, and though these are still small, they crawl around and say ' Mama' most endearingly. My daughter is such a fine teacher! But as to the committee, I care not a whit for their pompous, hidebound, retrogressive attitudes towards my work, and besides, I am far too tough to make a satisfactory society dinner!

Last year was a different matter entirely; I conceded then that rocketeering was an unsatisfactory way to travel, but not for the same reasons as the committee, whose main concern seems to have been the noise! Noise! As if scientific experiment must limit itself to letting the neighbours sleep! My neighbours get enough sleep, I don't see the peek of a snout out of a kitchen before noon. Here it is, the pinnacle of Tiktaalik civilisation and what do we do with it? Whine about the noise and feed on the ducks!

I too regret the conservatory, But I feel I am on the edge of a breakthrough, and what is a little glass compared to that?

Yours as ever with affection

Dante

PS I am glad you are finding Ranunculus' invention useful but his work is, as ever, flawed; it is clear from the result on my screen that your quill needs recharging.

...As ever, there is the danger that the real benefits of Professor Van Teesen's work may be overwhelmed by personal animosity. It cannot be disputed that Van Teesen's vision outsteps his sense of tact or diplomacy,but who can deny the scope of that vision? Sobekh 1 was a phenomenal achievement. It still is. But though we are a progressive people,perhaps a weakness of Crocodylidae is that we are so very practical; our stomachs outstretch our memories, and we very much prefer ham today to goose tomorrow.

I am humbly happy to have been so lauded for the Galvano-stenopad and the changes brought by my invention to Tiktaalik. But need I remind all the worthy members that this work met with disparagement in the beginning? It seemed ridiculous, and never more so than when I demonstrated the fiirst model, so far removed from the convex screen, electro quill and bronze mechicanery now so familiar. What a long way my dream came in five short years! Could I have done it without the generosity and foresight of the Institute? Could I have done it without that special genius, all its own, that the committee has, of giving an extraordinary idea patronage and patience? with all my heart I do not think so.

And I assure this learned company that Van Teesen's work may provide our nation with just as great, nay greater, rewards, if only we can show generosity and foresight. It is a rational proposition. We know that the surface of Endymia has much more to show us, and to withdraw funding now would surely be a grave mistake. There are those who, I know, will point to my old association with Professor Van Teesen and claim that my words are those of friendship rather than of objectivity. All I can say is that it has been many months since I spoke with Van Teesen, but the evidence from his earlier project has voice enough of its own.

Sirs

Often have I heard doubts as to the wisdom of over-training the fair sex, taxing their brains and weakening their health by letting them spend all day at their galvanostenopads. I never believed a word of it until reading Miss Miranda Van Teesan's letter, a mixture of boldness, impertinence and rash grammar. If her father has any sense he will cease his insane invengineering and pay more attention to his daughter's charmless outbursts in public, or she may well end up in the same sad plight as these modern crocodilettes who lament so loudly about the lack of gentlemen willing to squirt their eggs.

Yours with vigour

Mrs Augusta Studley-Champing

Denny

Well, they published it, and I hope it brings the little minx down a peg or two. You're sure it can't be traced back to me aren't you? The last thing I need is some ghastly bottle-nosed blue-stocking campaigning outside my front door.

Eddie

I read it! You're a bad beast Eddie!

Got to say though, don't think your Miss Miranda quite counts as a ghastly blue stocking. Sis knows one of the Ranunculus boys, so we get invited to those horrific Institute dinners; I think I saw her there with her papa. Pretty little thing if I've got the right one, but her father really is completely crackers. Gave an after dinner speech I tried to forget. Succeeded after drowning my sorrows in some truly horrid claret and half a goat.

Denny

When's the next dinner?

And you didn't answer my question!

Eddie

Don't know, seriously wasn't counting on ever darkening their doors again! But I can find out.

Stop worrying, why would she bother tracing it, even if she knew how?

Denny

P.S. Oh dear. Seems like papa crackers had his funding pulled! No more institute dinners for our little bluestocking. Hard luck Eddie!

Dear Professor Van Teesen

It is with regret that the ruling committee of the Royal Institute for Scientific and Technological Advancement feels unable to fund your posited flight to Endymia at this time. Despite the fascinating and compelling arguments outlined in your application, there are several issues that must be resolved before your research receives further fiscal assistance from us; Namely;

1) Despite the remarkable discoveries of Sobekh 1, no real conclusions can be drawn regarding the surface of Endymia and this is entirely due to your refusal to allow its fellows to analyse the samples found. You are clearly withholding information received, or making spurious claims without any results to back them up whatsoever.

2) If you have indeed been entirely frank with the Society then the scope of the venture you plan is far too wide for the level of information at your disposal. A voyage into the oether would be peril and expense enough at so early a juncture, but this does not seem to be extravagant enough for you; Maps of Endymia's surface and sky cities surrounding Tiktaalik are all very well, if phantasy is your preferred medium; in our humble pursuit of scientific progress, we would be pleased to see you merely get a flying craft in the air without it bursting into flame and taking half the rooftops of London with it.

Yours sincerely

Professor Rookwell Kettering etc.etc.

...she knew she would have all the memorabilia, all the records, everything to remind her of him before his disappearance. Her books were full of columns and letters, transcripts, all sorts of tidbits...but these, though they mattered to her for his sake, were not so very important. No, the most precious pieces were still being clamoured for by the society, evidence. She said nothing, gave nothing away. If they had him, he would be their only link to the proof they wanted, and there was nothing they could do; certainly they would never eat him.

She touched the most treasured possession, Sobekh's first retrieval. The probe had damaged it a little, but she could still make out the shape, a thing of narrow brim and deep indentation in the crown. Everything about it seemed masculine, but it was so tiny...a toy for a toy male. Investigation showed the markings, impossible little stitches, and she knew, just by comparing the results to those of her own milliner, that it was some kind of hat, though neither made nor ever worn by a tiktaalik.

Then there was the other thing, a robe. She had long suspected it was a coat, for it was lined with some material that her own experiments proved to be waterproof. And that meant something else.

She folded it and hid it in the usual place before going over to the window and gazing at Endymia, so beautiful and blue white. 'Rain,' she murmured, 'you have rain...and people. A little kind of people perhaps...'

Her father was not dead. There was Ranunculus, there was Mrs Beaudemain, there would be others, even Eddie who was proving less tiresome since Denny explained he was a bit of a fool. Somehow her father would be rescued, he would prove his case, funding would flood in, and then would come the new world.

She took one last look around the room, gently closed the door and left.

Of course, despite being a lark, this ain't public domain; Copyright Debbie Gallagher 2007 etc,etc!