Strange Happenings on the Bus

If I stretch my leg a little further, uh a little more, that’s right, come to me. Phew, got it. Why are these rows of seats so darn close together? I hope I don’t break my neck reaching for it after I’ve put my hip out to drag it out from under. Urgh, gotcha you shy little … what have we here then?

Oh, such a disappointment. It’s not even leather. A hardback Moleskine address book, great. Oh, drat, that’s my stop.

Flaming bus driver, thought he wasn’t going to stop. Mind you, slamming on the breaks when I shouted wasn’t such a great health and safety choice. What’s the time? For goodness sake, run or you’ll be late. Again.

“Sorry, the bus ran late again, Terry. What did I miss?”

“No worries, Jess, grab yourself a coffee. Then we’ll get started on your plans for next season’s must have doggie accessories.”

Is that today? What the hell. Coffee. Don’t spill it everywhere. Pull yourself together. Deep breaths. In and out. There that’s it. Go and sit down. You got this girl.

“Ready, Jess?”

“Yes, thanks, Terry. So, morning everyone. I won’t be asking any tricky questions but I would appreciate your thoughts on a few ideas. So first off, what do you think about a doggie dating diary?”

“Interesting. What else have you got? says Terry.

“Have you seen the blinking collars, rainbow colours, neons and fluorescents?”

The team nods in unison.

“We could do them and matching wristbands for the humans.”

“Ooh, I’d love one of those sets in fuchsia,” says Maureen.

“Anyone else interested?” asks Terry, “let’s have a show of hands. Okay that’s four for four. Order five hundred sets, Jess. What else have you got?”

“You know how we humans have address books for all those important details of the people we know well, right? Or those we would like to stay in touch with and those doggie mums and dads we meet while out walking in the park.”

Okay, I’ve got them hooked, will they let me reel them in?

“We could take it a step further. We could include a fold out save the date calendar. Doggie owners can schedule meet ups. A Saturday play date for Pluto and Wolverine to go for a ramble in the woods or meadows.”

Somebody say something. Please.

“How would we keep it in the address book? You know, so it wouldn’t fall out,” says Jude.

“Some kind of adhesive that would keep it in place inside the front or back cover, I reckon would work,” says Veronica.

“Nice one, guys. Veronica and Jess, you work on the doggie date fold out and let me see the mock up before we decide on numbers for the order. Any more ideas from anyone? Alright, get cracking you lot. We’ve got no time to paws. Paws, get it?”

The team groan in unison and troop out of Terry’s office.

Phew that was a close shave, its amazing how the best ideas come out of nowhere when you most need them!

The day passes in a blur of busy.

On her way to the bus stop, she’s looking for her purse when she feels the thin book in the bottom of her bag.

Is there a name and address in you? Hmm, there you are, Edmund Zada of 7 Azalea Terrace. The posh end of town. I’ll drop your address book in on the way.

The maps function on her phone shows a ten minute walk from the bus route to Azalea Terrace. The houses get bigger and more ornate as she nears the finish flag. Number 7 is like one of those embassy buildings in London.

How the heck did your address book find itself on my bus this morning?

Jess raises the solid globe then bashes it against the corresponding brass plinth.

She waits. Nothing. She posts the little black book through the matching brass letterbox.

The next morning, as if reliving the day before, Jess stretches her feet out in front of her. Her right heel is on something a bit higher than the position of the left heel. She drags whatever it is out. She succeeds, once again, in reaching it with her hand without breaking her neck.

How is this even possible? It’s the same little black book. Yep, same name, same address. Okay who else is in here? A bank, a lawyer, a doctor. Okay, I’ll call them at lunch time.

I reckon the lawyer is my best first shot. Nothing. Disconnected. The same with the doctor’s number. Last try.

A pleasant female voice answers, “Curruthers and Turpin, how may I help you?”

“Uh, this is going to sound a bit strange but bear with me …

“Very well, may I take your name, please?”

“Jessica Chance.”

“Ah, yes, Miss Chance, we have you booked in for a meeting with the director at 3 PM today is that correct?”

“I’m afraid I know nothing about it. Do you know who booked the appointment?”

“Yes, a great uncle of yours, Sir Edmund Zada. He arranged the appointment several months ago.”

“That’s impossible. I’d never heard of him before yesterday.”

“I should imagine he knew of you, Miss Chance. We’ll see you at three.”

“Wait.”

She hung up! This is spooky. It’s a bank. I’ll skip lunch and slip out early to drop the address book off with the director of the bank. He’ll be able to tell me what’s going on.

This building is gorgeous, art nouveau is my favourite. I have to go in now.

The receptionist smiles, “Miss Jessica Chance?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“We’ve been waiting for you for quite some time,” the receptionist smiles again. A twinkle in her eyes.

“I see,” says Jess. I hope Mr Curruthers can enlighten me.

“Please go to the third floor, Jensen will meet you at the lift.” The no hair out of place ex-model indicated with a glide of her arm to the elegant art nouveau elevator cage.

As promised, Jensen met Jess as she stepped out of the clunking clattering lift.

I must ask for the stairs on the way out.

“Here we are, Miss Chance. Please go in, Mr Curruthers is expecting you.”

“Thank you, Jensen.”

She opened the door and entered a glorious sunlit chamber. Mirrors and metal filigree served to further illuminate the handsome furniture and decor.

An elderly gentleman stood to greet her. He strolled out from behind a magnificent solid polished wood desk to shake her hand.

“Miss Chance, delighted to make your acquaintance. We’ve been expecting you ever since Sir Edmund foretold your arrival three years ago. He left instructions to be be opened today.”

“He predicted this? But who is he? In relation to me, I mean?”

“This must be quite a surprise to you, please do take a seat. I’ll open the instructions first and read them to you. Would that be acceptable to you?”

OMG! This sage green upholstered chair with golden wavy wood armrests is divine. Did Gaudi create it?

“Yes, please, go ahead.”

The director used a delicate silver letter opener to slit the envelope open. He slid the letter out and smoothed it flat on his leather desk top. He cleared his throat and read.

Miss Jessica Chance,

Although you are unaware of me, I have known of you all your life. I saw your birthdate and time appear the moment you spilled into this life. Your mother is my late sister’s daughter.

After my sister, your grandmother, Felicity, passed, your mother and I lost contact. I won’t go into the reasons here. When your mother passed into the ether three years ago, the time and date of that sad happening came to me, too.

I knew then it was time to prepare for your legacy.

Curruthers is a trusted confidant of mine. Forgive me for missing you last night when you came to the house and also today. Predictions are strange, their very nature vague and often missing vital information.

The little black book, the one you found on the bus these past two mornings was mine. I enclosed it in this envelope to give to you today. As one expected, like Houdini, he escaped to join you.

We are a family of magicians and fortune tellers. Perseus is the name of the little black book. He belongs to you now. I have no doubt he has magicked himself back inside the envelope. He will know when it is time to pursue the next special descendent.

The town house you visited yesterday evening passes to you now. With the house comes vast responsibility. She will welcome you but she will expect much of you while you live there.

An award of a £20,000 biannual stipend is yours the moment you step over the threshold. The house will task you with deeds that demand creative solutions.

Her name is Metrodora. She guided me for my lifetime and never steered me wrong. Together we changed the outcomes of countless potential tragedies.

My wish is for you, Jessica, and Metrodora, to continue this crucial work.

Will you grant your great uncle this request?

“He signed his name. This is the end of the letter. Your great uncle passed away two days after entrusting me with this last will and testament.”

“This is too much to take in, Mr Curruthers. How could you expect anyone to believe this?”

“Your great uncle achieved much in his long life. Metrodora, whom I have met, possesses eternal wisdom and blessed healing powers. People and planets have benefitted from her and Sir Edmunds interventions. If you accept their gifts, you will enhance the lives of billions of living organisms.”

“When you put it like that how could I refuse?”

“Congratulations, Miss Chance. The town house has transferred into your name as of this moment. I wish you and Metrodora the greatest of success. The bank doors remain open to you, should need our services.”

What’s happening? Where am I? Oh, this place glows with energy. Her embrace is pure joy.

“You are home, daughter. Welcome.”