There but for The_ A Novel - Ali Smith [96]
(Brooke Bayoude Ten In Four Days’ Time Fastest Runner Up Stairs In World got in the front door when the cleaning lady who comes on a Wednesday was just leaving and was loading her things into her van and Brooke slipped past her and in the door while it was still open and ran up the stairs really fast as befits a so fast runner. She had the latest The fact is note to deliver. It had actually been weeks since the last one. Brooke had not been feeling like delivering anything to anyone. But then she had seen this fact on an antiques programme on TV and had thought it was a very good one and should maybe be shared. She stood at the door and took the note out of the front pocket of her jacket and unfolded it and was about to bend to slip the note under the wooden door when she said this, out loud, to the door, just, like, said it. Listen do you want to know a joke about a door? Then the voice from inside the room said the words why not. Okay, right, Brooke said. What prize did the man who invented door knockers win? The voice didn’t say anything. (The voice was Mr. Garth.) Do you give up? Brooke said. I give up, the voice said. The no bell prize, Brooke said. Then the voice said: Knock knock. Who’s there? Brooke said. Toby, the voice said. Toby who? Brooke said. Toby or not Toby, that is the question, the voice said. Brooke really laughed because it was about Hamlet. Then she started to tell a knock knock joke herself, but when she said Knock knock, the voice answered Come in. So Brooke turned the handle and the door opened. It’s not locked! Brooke said. Mr. Garth was sitting on the exercise bike with one foot on a pedal and one foot on the frame. It hasn’t been locked for months, not since last summer, Mr. Garth said, but nobody’s knocked on it till now. I brought you a note, Brooke said. Good, Mr. Garth said, is it a fact is note? I wondered where they’d gone. What’s the fact today, then?
The fact is, a mystery clock is an old-fashioned sort of clock that seems to go by itself on its own without seemingly needing any winding or ever being looked after by anyone. Mr. Garth read it out loud off the piece of paper. Yes, that’s a good one, he said, thank you. Thank you for sending me all the facts over the weeks, I wondered who it was that was being so kind as to think I would want to know things. I thought that you would need to, while you were in here, Brooke said, in case you were a bit bored. It’s like a newspaper getting delivered, but better, Mr. Garth said. I appreciate the time it took to find the facts and write them down for me. That’s all right, Brooke said, it didn’t take very long. It’s what I like about handwriting, Mr. Garth said, that it is about time. How do you mean? Brooke said. Well, Mr. Garth said, it takes time to write things down, put one word after another. And also, the letters you sent me are in your handwriting, which is like sending me an exclusive artefact that nobody but you could have made, so, thank you. That’s quite cool! Brooke said. Though there’s one fact in particular I did want to ask about, Mr. Garth said. Mr. Garth got off the bike and went over to the chest of drawers thing and looked through the pile of The fact is notes and held one up. This one, he said, The fact is, deer know about weddings and about who you will marry. I’m pretty sure it is a fact, Brooke said, it’s what it says in that song. What song? Mr. Garth asked. The one about knowing where you’re going, Brooke said. I don’t think I know that song, Mr. Garth said. Brooke sang it for him: I know where I’m going. I know who’s going with me. I know who my love is. And the deer knows who I’ll marry. Mr. Garth started laughing. No no, I’m not laughing at you, he said in the middle of