Rippleswade Hall, page 5
Ode to Nathalie
She was serene, like tranquillity
She was still, like calmness
She was radiant, like fire
She was love, like red hot
She was beauty, like stunning
She was exquisite, like diamonds
My report into the fire at Rippleswade Hall was completed one week after this second visit. Perhaps it was because I was dealing with such a beautiful lady and perhaps because Rippleswade Hall was so impressive but I felt that an outright allegation of fraud somehow blighted both NTD and the Hall. In short, I could not bring myself to be totally frank and honest in my report, something I have prided myself on in my professional career. My report concluded that the cause of the fire was inconclusive and indeterminate and that absent other/further evidence the claim needed to be adjusted and settled.
In 2009, insurers uncovered 130,000 fraudulent claims worth £1.32 billion across all insurance products.
Insurers invest at least £200 million each year to identify fraud.
Normally, I would have gone onto adjust the quantum of the claim but nothing further was ever referred to me, which would suggest that some sort of deal was done between Gluckman and NTD but about which I have no knowledge. It is with great shame that I must confess that my professional judgment was severely clouded but what I will say is that this is the only time this has happened in my professional career.
64.
The Dinner
65.
I was very surprised to receive a formal dinner invitation from NTD. It arrived by first class post and was posted in an expensive envelope on which my name and address were set out in immaculate handwritten black ink. Indeed, it was so immaculate I thought that the envelope with the address had been printed. Shown to me now and marked “BOW 5” is a copy of the invitation. The invitation was on a gold trimmed card and requested the pleasure of the company of Barrington Olivier Whibley for dinner at 7:00 p.m. Thursday 21 June.
66.
There were a number of things that struck me as odd. Firstly, she had used my full name and must have done research to discover that my middle name is Olivier. Secondly, she had not invited my wife Joanne as well, which I have to agree with my wife was odd. Thirdly, the invitation was received exactly two months before the actual event (thought that sort of notice was only for weddings and significant parties). Fourthly, was the fact of the invitation at all. I had only met the woman twice before and spoken on the telephone on a few other occasions and always this had been to do with my appointment as a loss adjuster investigating the fire damage claim on behalf of her insurance company. My immediate thought was that this must be the dinner whereby I was to be introduced to the local doctor and vicar whom she had mentioned on my second visit. There was nothing in the invitation to indicate this would be the case but I simply assumed it was.
67.
I have to confess being in somewhat of a quandary as to how to reply. I do not mean whether I accepted or not, it was too interesting an invitation to turn down. What I mean was, how was I to respond? It felt like an invitation from Buckingham Palace, what do you say, to whom, how? In the end I typed a short letter gratefully accepting the invitation; there was almost no need to put the date in my diary as I became rather consumed by the event.
68.
The picture I had in my mind’s eye was a dinner with four of us in the kitchen, with NTD sat next to me and on the other side of the table the older doctor and vicar. I quietly fantasised that for one evening only I would act as her partner.
69.
An unusual amount of time was spent preparing for the dinner party and even Joanne became involved in assisting with my wardrobe. Indeed, it was Joanne who suggested I treat myself to a light-weight suit, something I had talked about acquiring for some time, but as my wife said with my rather portly figure a lightweight khaki coloured suit just added pounds to me. In the end I did buy a pair of new dark grey trousers and a rather fine boating blazer that we found in a local gentleman’s tailor. I would have to say that with a crisply ironed white shirt, no tie and well polished black brogues I rather felt the part.
70.
It seemed important to me that the time of my arrival should be just right. Certainly not early but a polite 15 minutes after the scheduled time on the invitation. I did not wish to seem too eager and my wife suggested that I arrive a full 30 minutes late but after giving the matter careful consideration I decided 20 minutes had just the right tone. Not too early so as to seem too keen but not too late so as to appear casual. I definitely did want NTD to know that I was flattered by the invitation.
71.
It had not been wasted on me that the date for the dinner was the summer solstice; my grandfather’s birthday and I have always toasted Grandpa Fred’s birthday even though he passed away over 30 years ago. Could I, should I raise a glass during the dinner and ask NTD to join me in honouring a man that had had such an important part in my life, or did I do it silently at some stage without making any comment?
72.
The 21 June was a glorious day, there were clear blue skies and I had deliberately kept the day free so I could savour getting ready slowly. But it was the sort of day that beckons you outside. There was a gentle warming breeze and the lawn needed mowing, the two front borders needed to be weeded. It had been a wet spring and the warm sunshine of the preceding week had sent nature into a frenzied growing spell. Time had also been set aside so that I could go to our nearest wine merchant who could advise on a crisp bottle of chardonnay to be a contribution to what I suspected would be a glorious feast. A trip to Richard’s wine shop always took at least 90 minutes as he was a great raconteur and I rather liked the idea of telling him in some detail what and to who the wine was to be given. I just knew he would be a tiny bit jealous and that added just a little more frisson to what was already a rather exquisite day.
73.
But the best laid plans etc …The gardening ended up taking far longer than I had wanted it to, not least the fact that I had not reckoned on spending some time with my neighbour Jon who was having trouble with his mower and upon hearing me using mine popped over and we then had a long chat about plans for summer holidays. All of a sudden it was 15:00 and I knew that I would need to leave at 17:30 if my carefully timed plan was to work. The wine buying and chat with Richard was going to have to be fore shortened.
74.
With no little anxiety I was ready to leave at 17:15 but it had been far more hurried that I had imagined and Richard was not at the wine shop – he had an afternoon off, golfing and his wife had assisted me and I had rather badly explained my dinner invitation to her. It had come out all wrong without any of the delicious subtle suggestions I had delighted in imagining going through with Richard. In truth, I find his wife a little intimidating. She knew as much, if not more, about wine than Richard and she has an extremely posh accent that immediately makes you feel like you are one of the staff. She was one of the few women I can think of that I know who I would call handsome. She was most certainly not beautiful, nor was she ugly. She had straggly blonde hair, striking blue eyes and always wore a cotton blouse with an upturned collar. Her make up was surprisingly badly applied and she had a poor complexion. On close inspection, she had a Roman nose, which gave her a striking profile. She was not a woman many men would have flirted with. Joanne had once described her as “frightening” and that had rather taken me aback but it made sense. Camilla had a very direct look and always listened very carefully to what you were saying. Richard has an immediate rapport with people and Camilla does not. In fact, although I had known her for some 15 years, I still felt we were simply acquaintances. She recommended a Cotes de Rhone, an unusual choice I thought, but she was very confident that on a warm summer’s night this would be an ideal partner with fish, chicken and salad.
75.
Presumptuously, I had it in mind that whatever wine I took would be used during dinner and it was only as I drove to Rippleswade Hall that I recalled that with the exquisite wine cellar NTD kept so well stocked, my offering was more than likely to remain unopened. The day had not changed and it was a glorious evening. During the drive there I imagined the doctor and vicar. Although never met or seen by me before I had a curiously acute impression of how each man would look.
76.
The Cherry tree drive up to Rippleswade Hall on that summers evening was simply glorious. The sunlight danced on the leaves and, whilst shaded, the warmth of the evening sun could still be felt. There was a quality about the light; there is a Scott’s artist called David Mackie whose paintings dwell on the way in which sunlight moves through and bounces onto trees. The drive up to Rippleswade Hall that evening is the closest I have ever felt to being in a painting.
77.
As planned, I arrived at precisely 19:20 and was a little surprised there were no other cars outside, although I immediately thought to myself that on such a glorious evening a few drinks would mean that someone local could simply call for a cab. I parked near the front entrance and then rang the bell although the front door was wide open. I was a little taken aback when a reasonably elderly man with a walking stick moved slowly toward the front door. By my estimation he would have been in his late seventies. He was bald and had silver hair that was not well cut and some of which had been grown to comb over his bald patch. He appeared to have suffered from a stroke as his left leg and arm seemed to be largely immobile. He walked with a slight stoop and he smiled faintly as he approached and just said “Mr Whibley” in a very soft but clear manner. He then turned slowly and indicated that I should follow him. I think I commented that it was a beautiful evening and decided that I would give the wine to NTD, so kept hold of the bottle that was now only slightly chilled.
78.
We moved slowly towards the kitchen and I walked a few paces behind. There was no-one in the kitchen, and I noted there were a number of pans and items in the process of preparation. The door to the herb garden was open and I realised that the man was going to take me somewhere outside. It was only after we had walked through the walled herb garden and through a large black iron gateway that I saw NTD seated at a table on the lawn beyond the herb garden and near the large oak tree. There were four large burners forming a square around the table and the setting looked wonderful. NTD rose and greeted me with a wave and at that point the man stepped aside to let me pass. He bowed his head ever so slightly and then turned slowly to return to the kitchen. On reflection, in my keenness to see NTD I did not say anything else to him.
79.
By the time I got to the table NTD was seated again and I approached with perhaps a little more haste than I would have wished to show and pressed the wine into her hands with a comment that it was a very small offering. She had gotten up again to greet me with a kiss to the cheek. In fact the wine had cost £38 and was more than I had spent on any bottle of alcohol, save for a bottle of champagne for a wedding anniversary. NTD did me the courtesy of looking at the wine and said that would be just fine with the main course. She immediately seemed different to the two previous occasions when we had met. She was wearing some subtle make up, which she had not done before and this accentuated her eyes and lips. She was wearing a loose white robe and a gold necklace and diamond earrings. Her hair was loose and tousled, as though she had just arrived at the table from her bed. Near her seat was a silver wine holder and stand in which there was an already opened bottle of champagne. The sun caught the filigree on the stand and holder and it glinted at me. NTD noticed and smiled.
80.
She retook her seat and beckoned for me to sit as well and it was only then that I noticed the table had been set for two. The table was rectangular in shape and in the middle of it was a large ornate silver platter and on a mountain of ice were a couple of dozen oysters. The way the oysters had been arranged in the ice made them look like the rice fields in Bali and I commented on that. Her lips parted and curled and speaking a little more loudly and quickly than I had been previously heard her speak of she said “Exactly, you have it exactly, I knew you would.”
81.
Some of the oysters had already been opened and were sitting in one half of their shell whilst others were still whole. There was a condiment platter near the tray on which there was silver salt and pepper shakers, a bottle of Tabasco, a small bottle of Lee & Perrins and a China bowl with lemons cut into wedges and each neatly wrapped in gauze. I have never heard of Tabasco or Worcester sauce being decanted but the setting seemed to almost suggest that it should be. The bottles seemed out of place on the silver tray amongst the fine china and glistening crystal. But then I think that I am being pedantic. Directly in front of me were three plates each of a different size stacked on top of each other and exquisite silver cutlery, perfectly polished. There were three crystal wine glasses as well as a champagne flute to my right hand and a white napkin rolled into a silver holder on top of the plate.
82.
I was only just starting to take things in around me and NTD said effusively that Peter had done such a good job in laying the table and getting everything ready. Cautiously, I said that I assumed Peter was the butler who had met me at the front door and he did not seem to be in good health. I have no idea why I said that, not even today having been able to give the point much thought, and perhaps it was NTD’s reaction that made me realise that this was an odd comment/observation. She said, “In what way?” I said, “He’s over seventy, apparently the victim of a bad stroke, he is under weight and has a slight jaundiced look about him.” NTD said “Some are more fortunate than others,” But I just cannot recall if she said, “Some of us” or just “Some”. To my mind that is important. She said, “There is nothing to be done, let it go.” but it were as if she were talking to someone else, I had the strong feeling she was not talking to me when she said that.
83.
NTD said that she hoped that I liked oysters and it must have been the look on my face because as she got up to serve me champagne she again smiled very broadly and said, “Enjoying eating oysters is very similar to enjoying a clitoris, they look and taste similar and I adore oysters. You are clearly not a man who likes oral sex”. Blushing far more than I ought, I fidgeted in my chair and knocked over the champagne flute, which broke at the stem as it fell on the condiment tray. Having just been filled, the champagne now made a wet puddle on the crisp white tablecloth. NTD did not seem to notice at all, or if she did, did brilliantly pretending nothing had happened.
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She again ran her left hand through her hair and in her right hand she poured out the champagne into a spare glass that seemed to miraculously appear from no-where. She was standing close beside me and my hand was on the chair arm and her thigh gently rubbed against it, I am not sure if she noticed but I did. With her left hand she gently touched my shoulder. Leaving the bottle on the table near me she moved slowly back to her chair.
85.
It hardly needs to be said that I was extremely taken aback and shocked by her comment. Having arrived expecting some intellectual debate with the local vicar and doctor this was so far away from what I had imagined or been expecting that I felt my recovery was rather good under the circumstances. I said, “I have tried oysters on many occasions and feel they are somewhat overrated, personally I prefer muscles, scallops and razor clams as they have a better taste and are better suited to being cooked in a sauce. The reason why you can taste the sea when you eat an oyster is because the oysters still contain sea water.”
86.
As I finished speaking I began to realise that NTD was very drunk and possibly also high. Her head was lolling back so that she could almost see the Oak tree directly behind her and then she slowly leant forward running her left hand through her hair again as she shook it out and said, “Well I hope you like Krug champagne, it is in my opinion superior to Crystal and Laurent-Perrier, do you not think?”
87.
I needed no further invitation to embark on a mini monologue on the subject of champagne. It took us immediately away from a sort of awkwardness and also diverted away from the broken flute that I had laid on the left-hand corner of the table next to me. NTD had left the champagne on the table and I poured myself a generous refill.
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NTD began to eat an opened oyster. She liberally smothered it with Worcester sauce, Tabasco and pepper and just before she poured the contents of the shell into her mouth she laughed and said, “No need for salt. I like it that you mentioned Bali. Do you know I love Indonesia, the food, the people the climate. Have you ever been to Indonesia?” Again, I felt embarrassed that I had not, NTD seemed so worldly and made me feel so drab and suburban.
