The COP26 Kabuff: A Beatrice Deft Short

22

The sound of a match striking in the darkness. Flickering light. The smell of burning wax, then a steadier flame, from a candle positioned to one side.

Beatrice looked around, in the soft light. Metal shelves, stacked with reams of A4 recycled paper. A tray filled with scissors. Another with staplers. Old-fashioned pull drawers, carefully labelled with their contents: highlighters; sticky labels; parcel labels; treasury tags; paper clips; bulldog clips.

'Err, we're in the...?'

Caspian smiled, broadly. 'Ja. The Stationery Kabuff.'

Beatrice laughed. 'Oh, well met Caspian.'

'I thought you'd like it.'

'I do. But what on earth is going on? You owe me an explanation. How did you manage to create that evacuation? How do you know Isla? Do you know, I met her on the plane from Dubai?'

'I have no time to explain all that now, Beatrice. Just let me say that there is a network of us. We believe in direct, and positive action,' he intoned. 'Research shows that progressive change is possible when the message is hopeful and there is something positive to believe in - and arts and culture are vital in supporting that belief.'

'Hence that stunt outside?'

'Ja. But you were moved by it, no?'

'It was stunning, Caspian. I'm sure it's gone viral now. But it was very disruptive. All the negotiations that were going on at the time. I was in the middle of a panel, too...!'

'Yes, I heard you. You were impassioned, Beatrice. As ever...

Beatrice looked into his eyes, which reflected the light of the candle. She remembered the first time they had made love, in White Storm's Kabuff at the Frankfurt Book Fair.

She shook herself. 'Still. I was in the middle of something. My work is important too.'

'I'm sorry I had to evacuate then. But all of the meteorological conditions were perfect. And the timing meant we could make the news headlines in the mainstream media as well as on the social networks. You know as well as I do that the talks are stationary right now. We need more.'

Beatrice considered his argument, then laughed. 'So here we are, in a Stationery Kabuff. Is this a spelling joke?'

'E for envelope?' Caspian replied, cautiously.

'E for emergency,' Beatrice retorted.

'Ja, that we are agreed on.'

Beatrice scrutinised his face. 'E for erotic?'

Caspian looked around at the shelves, the drawers, the trays. The candles. Beatrice's gaze.

'Ja, Beatrice. Every environmentalist has to have their fun.'