Of Lakes, Mysteries and the Odd Lunatic

Chapter IV: In which Lawrence faces problems both health and vegetable-related

Chapter IV

In which Lawrence faces problems both health and vegetable-related

Over the next two hours Lawrence visited the rest of his patients, with nothing out the ordinary except for a mild electrical shock from one resident’s invention he had been working on. He realised that the shops were to close soon and he still hadn’t bought that garlic.

Lawrence too his bicycle down the hill and pulled sharply into a parking space outside the grocers. A woman exiting the shop with a basket full of cucumbers frowned in his direction, making a subtle grunt of disapproval. The sign on the shop’s door announced that it closed at four thirty every afternoon except Tuesdays, when it was open till five. It was not a Tuesday, and the time had been four ten when he left, and it was not a very long ride into the village.

Looking into the front window to see if the garlic was on special, Lawrence looked up to see the shopkeeper staring at him with narrowed eyes. He was wearing a black suit and a white apron, and looked very pudgy for someone who sold mostly healthy foods. As Lawrence moved towards the door to enter into the shop, the man bustled forward and flipped over the OPEN sign that hung in the door’s window, then bolted the door shut in three places.

Lawrence frowned and attempted to shout through the glass.

“Excuse me! I thought you didn’t close till four thirty? It can’t be that time yet, surely.” The shopkeeper simply shook his head. “But I need to buy garlic! Pierre will be furious. Well, more than he is right now, anyway.” Lawrence knocked rapidly on the window. “You have to let me in!” The shopkeeper walked away.

Lawrence should have been used to this kind of behaviour by now. Ever since he had founded Funny Oaks, he had become quite unpopular with the residents of Little Vale. They were, you see, a quiet little lakeside tourist tow, who prided themselves on their pretty buildings and flower gardens. They believed that Lawrence’s establishment was bringing town the town’s reputation, as people did not take a liking to Mental Asylums in those days.

As a result, the townsfolk had shunned him, trying to make life as difficult as possible in the hope that he would simply pack up and leave. This, of course was something that Lawrence would never do, as he loved the Institute and it’s patients too much to simply leave them and give them up to other harsher, less forgiving places.

There was, thankfully, another greengrocers in town, and he managed to get inside before the owner noticed him; a rather plump (what is it with these obese greengrocers?), red-faced woman who seemed to have a constant irritant in her eye as she spent most of her time blinking furiously.

Lawrence quickly selected his garlic, and made his way to the counter. Unfortunately, the shopkeeper charged him too much for the garlic, over twice the price, and Lawrence had to explain several times the math proving that he was right. He indicated the sign above the garlic to the woman, who claimed that it actually pertained to the new potatoes which were situated in the next box along. Eventually, as there was a long line of waiting customers, the woman gave in and Lawrence paid the correct charge.

By way of chance, the crockery store was only two shops along, and so Lawrence purchased a selection of bowls and plates to replace those that Pierre had broken. In other circumstances, Lawrence would have hired someone else to do the cooking, but Pierre was cheap and did his job well. The broken crockery was merely an unfortunate side-effect.

Lawrence at alone in his room that evening, being too overwhelmed by the previous night’s drama to face the chaotic event that was dinner at the Institute. Pierre had prepared a fabulous Caesar Salad, complete with delicious, tender chicken pieces and crunchy fried croutons.

He was deep in thought when Mason the butler came up to retrieve his empty plate.

“Sir?”

“Oh, yes, please do, Mason. I was just thinking, that’s all.”

“About...her?”

“Yes, yes. Among other things.”

“Well, there is certainly a lot to think about these days.”

“Yes, there is. Tell me, can you remember when the contractor is coming in? We still don’t have heating in the West wing, and I’m afraid blankets can only go so far. Plus, the Health and Safety inspector is bound to do one of his ‘random checks’ soon, and I don’t want to be pulled up for a lack of heating.”

Mason was, as are many other butlers around the world, more knowledgeable about goings on around the places where they worked than most people thought.

“I do believe the contractor is coming in tomorrow, sir. Also, I have heard that the Health and Safety inspector has been taken ill with a cough which he caught from entering into a dusty attic to check some roofing.”

“Well, that should delay him a little bit, just until we get things sorted around here. Ah, that also reminds me, how is our own roof holding up?”

“I visited the origami group not long ago, to serve them dinner. You know how they like to eat whilst they work. Anyway, their paper roof seems to be structurally sound, although it has yet to pass the rain test.”

“And when will that happen?”

“Well, I assume, when it rains. Goodnight, sir.” Lawrence frowned.

“Yes. Goodnight.” Mason closed the curtains, turned on the electric wall sconce and left the room. He returned two seconds later for the plate, bowed an apology, and exited one more.