Author Intrusion

In a small hotel room, with a narrow view apparently overlooking Majorca, an English woman sits at the hotel computer. Elegantly dressed in blue chiffon her mind drifts along the imaginary journey of an English Countryside. Thickened air wafts in Emily Bronte fashion, towards a precipice, the fresh grass ladled with white Hydrangea flowers a snowy essence of loyalty, friendship and-, Whirr, thud, murmurings in Spanish, Ellen turns half round. She is there, again, vacuuming, loud noise, moving papers, drafts. Ellen tries to focus on the two main characters, yet they fade with the reality of the noise And-”

“For God's Sake Señora Mencheso, please, wait, She rises amiably as only a refined English woman could and steadying with hands on shoulders, states:

“Please, Seniora, my Agent has promised the Publisher I will have the book finished at the end of the week. And I do not mind telling you, I am struggling. My heroine Lady Charlotte Featherwell longs to marry the dashing and brave Mr Dericote, however she is trapped in a brutal and loveless marriage to the despicable Lord Cedric Blackstone, A violent yet rich and influential drunkard whom took advantage of her when she was poor and threatened to evict her unless she succumbed-” And now, unless murder becomes an option, I cannot see a solution.

Seniora Mescheso pauses, and so Ellen commutes stating:

“He is a ruthless and powerful man, and my hero Mr Dericote, although brave and loyal, cannot succumb to darkness and impurity in the hope of rectifying a solution, so you see my dilemma.

“Ah, I understand, states the elderly portly cleaning woman, her hair a bundle her outfit as appropriate as the characters in the Victorian Romance, Ellen is desperate to complete.

“I clean quieter, I move papers from here to-”

“Please, states Ellen dreading the thought of her notes being scattered, can you just leave-”

“I clean, I use polish, no papers get wet, I-” Ahhh,

She trips, catching her hand on the computer desk, the papers spew across the floor, the double door window blows open like a cliché, the papers begin to blow. Senora Mescheso begins to pick them up, muttering in Spanish, whilst Ellen rushes to close the window before important documents are scattered to the wind. Locking the double door window, Ellen turns to see Senora Mescheso, place the papers in unnumerical order onto the bed, and begins to clean, moving the control, she somehow manages to disconnect the computer screen. Ellen rushes over, shouting “My draft, my notes, Oh please, “She gently though frantically pushes her out the way, and sits at the computer.

There is a thickened tension, the Spanish cleaner waits, whilst Ellen relieved she has not lost her manuscript and it has only been moved to an unofficial location, manages to save it, just as her mobile phone rings. Ellen presses Save and answers, it is her Agent, he states:

“Ellen darling, good news, they' re prepared to up the advance, however it must be finished by the end of the week-, Whirrr” “Ellen darling what in God's name is that-”

“Please. Shouts Ellen, I am trying to answer the phone will you stop bloody vacuuming-”

“I clean room/”

“Ellen, Ellen your breaking up darling; Ellen can you hear me sweetie; It's not a very -” Whirr,

“Hold on David, I'm going to take it outside. For Goodness sake, Senora, please do not mess up my writing, understand?

The Spanish cleaning woman pauses or so it seems, Ellen goes over and announces in Spanish,

“Deja los Papeles dende estan: Leave the papers where they are.

“Ah Si. I leave papers-” I clean room”

Frantically Ellen rushes out, worried about the deadline for her book, among other things.

In the hotel dining room, Ellen manages to find an empty table, fortunately it is not yet time to eat, and she explains her predicament to David. “I need to find a way to free my heroine, so she can marry Mr Dericote, however Lord Blacksword would never allow such a thing, all Ellen has at the moment is her precious Hydrangea flowers, a symbol of appreciation for what has been received in acknowledgement.

“And they are blue, like your dress/”

“Yes, and they grow in moist porous soil, an excellent place for a secluded Victorian setting , complete with suppressed townsfolk and precipice, but how to end my story-? Oh David I do not think I can do this! She is so annoying, you do not know this past week what I've had to put up with' Only last Monday, she accidentally deleted a whole chapter, and it was chapter five. How she managed it I do not know, but it completely confused me-”

“Ellen, you must stay calm and concentrate, Now I've already promised the Publisher and if he does not get the manuscript by the end of the week, I'm afraid it will not do much for your reputation/”

“David, I am trying believe me; It's just that, well I'm stuck, I don't want to change the way my chapters act, and yet, if I cannot find a solution, I'm afraid I may have to forget the whole thing;

“Ellen darling you can't be serious. Look, why not get some rest, it may help you to concentrate'

|I'll try/”

“Alright, I have to leave now, call me back when you're finished. Good luck .

“I will.” stated Ellen, and clicked off her mobile and went back into her hotel room, only to find Señora Mescheso, struggling with the vacuum cleaner wire, the cord having got caught, and now Ellen watched in horror as the computer crashed literarily off the table, causing her to scream/

“Can't you stop bloody interfering. Oh For God's Sake, here let me, you've got the wire-”

Ellen begins to tug, the Spanish Cleaner has gotten tangled., there is a tooing and froing, then with one sharp pull, Ellen frees the wire from it's socket, causing Señora Mescheso to be swept backward, her bopdy crashes through the double door windows that fly open as if a welcoming embrace, she screams her body falls and lands dead a stain on the pavement like a preverbal inkblot.

“Ellen reinstates the computer. Fortunately it is working and nothing is broken or mislaid. Then she pauses in thought and states:

“That's it. She is followed by him in one of his drunken moods and he slips on the hydrangea flowers and falls to his death from the precipice caused by the moist porous soil on a rain swept evening. Oh thank you Señora, now I can finish my book' You have been helpful after all/

The End