Buffalo Future, 1 ~ Serpent Dove, 07 Brighton evening

Copyright © 2013 Elder Adok.  First novel in the Buffalo Future series.  First published in Great Britain in April 2013 by Hiss Farm Concepts www.hissfarmconcepts.co.uk  office@hissfarmconcepts.co.uk  Second edition September 2013.  This blog chapter edition June 2015.  The moral right of Elder Adok to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.  All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher.

Brighton Rooftops © BoblyP

Kings Cross to Victoria by bronchs highlighted

The span of years helped but so did the span of generations. Io appreciated her roots and, perhaps because she was an only child, she regularly called on and relished the company of her elders. This was particularly so when she was out of sorts; their wisdom gave her fresh perspective, and their collective years of experience put her quarter century into context.

It was dark and cold: she zipped her leather jacket tight around her neck and walked past the museum and cathedral to the Ely station. So much cycling to the Fish and back through the bronch developed one set of muscles, walking emphasized a different combination and it was quite relaxing. There was a spring in her step.

The frost as the sun rose across Soham Lode was stunning. The train was soon past Waterbeach and pulled up at Cambridge where George joined; he climbed into a different coach and walked through the train until he found Io at a table seat pouring out two cups of tea from a large thermos.

In 35 minutes the train had reached London. Io had chosen Kings Cross station over Liverpool Street because the trip was faster and, so early on a Saturday, cheaper. They picked up bikes and cycled up the gentle incline from the platform into the bronch system. George had never been on the section to Victoria but Io knew it well and relished the banked corners as they swung past the British Museum, through Soho, around Buckingham Palace, and down onto the Brighton platform at Victoria station. Most of the bronch was at second storey height; Io loved the views and speed, while George concentrated to keep her in sight. It only took quarter of an hour.

Ten minutes later they were heading across the Thames towards Brighton. The train was comfortable and George felt peckish after the ride. Io had brought one banana which they shared as she warned him about Granny Smith's famous hospitality; they wouldn't starve.

The three great roof spans of the 1840 Brighton railway station welcomed them. George had never been there before and warmed to its style. Io suggested they walked down Queen's Road towards the sea, its fresh air a pleasant change from an air-conditioned railway coach.

After a short distance they crossed the road and entered into a building once operated by BBC Brighton, numbers 40-42 to be precise. They took a lift to the penthouse flat which overlooked the rooftops towards the sea. Io's paternal grandparents Siman and Janu Smith made them feel most welcomed; soon a large tray with coffee and cake was placed before them in the garden which was the pride and joy of their hosts.

Both in their mid-seventies they had plenty of creative energy. Siman explained that when they bought the flat it had potential for a garden but required careful construction so that no roots or leakage affected floors below. Janu said it was a combination of privacy and the central location near the station which drew them to their retirement home.

"And there's another even more important reason. Let's see if they are having coffee too. You'll need to come inside". 

She drew back the curtains from a window into her in-law's flat. Through it you could see an elderly couple sitting in separate wicker chairs looking out over Brighton Pier.

"Hello Greatma. I told you Io and her boyfriend George would be visiting us this weekend. Here they are!" 

Louise and Robert were in their late nineties with faces given great character by time's artistry. Their chairs swivelled round to face the window.

"Hello Io dear. You look so fit and healthy ... and this must be George. Very nice to see you. I hope you'll both call in while you're here. Would tomorrow morning after Church be any good?" 

Louise liked to have things organized.

"We'd love to Greatma", and turning towards Janu, Io checked, "If that's alright with you Gran?"

"Yes, of course it is. Do have a word with Robert". 

He was noticeably more frail than his wife and content to let her make arrangements. Yet when he spoke his eyes twinkled, as if the youngsters imparted some of their youthful energy to him.

"George, we mustn't let the women do all the talking. Do you mind me asking what you do for a living, or are you 'in between jobs' as they say?" 

George had dreaded the question but had an answer ready in his mind.

"I've been working with Inflow at Lakenheath for a number of years and commute in from Cambridge". 

He hoped that the last phrase would divert them from what he actually did, and the gamble paid off.

"You don't cycle all that away do you George?" asked Louise. "It must be all of 25 miles". 

Before replying George thought to himself that there were no flies on this set of Io's great grandparents.

"No, I usually get the train as far as Ely and then cycle into the Fish with Io. We can have a good chat on the way and keep trim at the same time".

"Well George", interjected Robert, "You'll need to do a few extra miles once Janu has finished with you. You'll be plum full of her tantalising cakes and soggy meringues".

George wondered for a moment if Io had passed on her nickname Porgie, but plums never featured again as they chatted for another twenty minutes. Then, with goodbyes, Siman drew the curtains together.

"We don't want them eavesdropping on our conversations".

They sat outside in the sun, sheltered from the sea breeze by a wall of glass which had the effect of cutting down background noise. Up here it was a different world.

"I can see why you chose this place", ventured George, but not addressing the Smiths by any particular name or title.

"George, do call us Grandma and Grandpa". 

Janu timed her comment naturally so there was no awkwardness for the young man. 

"Everybody else does, whether family or not!"

Siman pointed south-east over the rooftops. "You see that light grey roof; that's number 66 King's Road and it's near the fishing museum. Louise and Robert have the corner flat with a great view of the pier. There's always so much going on for them to watch".

Io picked up the thread. 

"They like their routines and love joining in Church on Sunday mornings. Their sound system is amazing and the camera is positioned where they used to sit. Apart from the occasional head blocking the view it's almost as if you are there".

"So they don't actually go to Church but still feel included. That sounds a bit odd to me", George puzzled.

"No, it works really well. Visitors can call too and join the atmosphere; Sunday mornings have been part of their routine for so many years. Robert was particularly pleased last week because the minister mentioned his question in the sermon, something about pigs rushing into the sea when filled with evil spirits". 

She paused a moment as the thought occurred to her. 

"George, would you like to join them?"

"Yes I suppose I would but I've never really been to Church". 

He didn't feel pressurized by the invitation; in fact he had become quite curious and valued the opportunity to see things for himself.

"That doesn't matter because, like a pub, anyone can walk into the building. The real Church is people anyway, so buildings and communications are all secondary. It's keeping it personal that counts".

They made the necessary change of plan and settled down to a 'light lunch' before heading for a walk along the sea front. Janu and Siman stayed home pottering in the garden as the next meal took shape!

~

At 9.20am that Sunday Io and George set off from The Penthouse of The Old Broadcasting House as it was now known, and walked past the clock tower down West Street to the front; then east along King's Road and into number 66.

George didn't quite know what to expect; they made their way up the stairs so as to maximise exercise and dissipate some of Janu's calorie contributions. The door opened as they approached and they were immediately welcomed into a different kind of world.

"Do come in and make yourselves at home". 

As usual Louise led but Robert chipped in.

"We chose this place because it looks out to sea and also allows us to snoop on all the pier tourists. You'd be surprised what goes on. A sea view is fantastic but changes slowly and can get a bit boring".

Somehow this introduction summed the elderly couple up. They were welcoming, enjoyed the patterns of life and nature but also wanted the stimulation of watching the world and his wife go by.

"Would you like a cuppa? Tea? Coffee? Bit early for a beer George". 

Robert organised Louise seamlessly. Soon they were sitting in four comfortable chairs facing some thick velvet curtains. Louise lit a couple of candles and placed a fresh rose at the foot of a simple wooden cross set in an alcove.

"What's the time dear?" asked Louise. 

"It's quarter to ten, so they will be getting ready". 

Robert drew the curtains which showed St Paul's Church being prepared for worship. Various members of the choir in their smart blue robes were putting out music sheets. Candles were lit on the altar. Then Robert pushed one of the buttons and the picture faded to another view of a prayer corner with a votive candle stand. There was a font and various flags.

"Oh look, there's Edna, bless her", commented Louise. 

"She's done well to get to Church; dear old Reginald's funeral was only last Wednesday. I sent her a card Robert".

George was captivated. He felt quite absorbed by the 'surroundings' and yet was sitting in a flat some distance from the Church. He felt as if he should speak in hushed tones but was assured that, although they could hear sounds, their chatter couldn't be overheard.

"Do drink up George. I'm sure Greatma has another one in the pot", said Io. 

She made it clear that they could be respectfully part of their Church while at the same time relaxing at home. The congregation stood when the first hymn was announced.

"Oh, I love this one. We can all join in; our neighbours are used to Sunday Church". 

Louise's voice was rather tremulous, had dropped a little with the years, but fortunately was still fairly accurate. Io sounded amazing. George hadn't heard her sing before. He joined in quietly. Robert had a go but his efforts bore little resemblance to the tune; it was clear that he enjoyed giving it his best shot. The rumble gave an audio cushion beneath which George could be a little more adventurous.

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