Short Story - The Impressions (2)

the impressions. Part two. At first she saw only flashing lights which gradually turned into spinning circles that slowly settled down into a group of blurry faces looking down at her. Miss Appleby, are you all right? Said a voice. Somebody helped her stand up a move towards a chair. There was a sound of running water and a cold wet cloth was pressed to the top of her head. Miss Appleby, can you hear me? Felicity focused her eyes with difficulty on the face from which the voice came on. Recognized the well dressed gentleman she had seen in the pastry shop. That morning. On one side of the man stood a rather dirty boy of about 13 with a cloth cap. And on the other side was a woman in a long dress made of black silk. Ah, Miss Appleby. The man said so sorry for the little accident with the cupboard. Now I don't want to hurry you, but do you think you could come along to the boardroom? They're expecting you, but But who are you? What are you doing in the building? You don't belong here. My name Miss Appleby, is Frederick Tumble. Andi, I promise you I definitely belong to this building. If you come along to the boardroom, we can explain everything. Mrs Trestle turn. You take miss a boobies. Right arm. I'll take her left, smudge. You open the doors off we go on Duin With that, Felicity found herself being walked down the corridor towards the board room as they entered a bizarre sight met her eyes. Sitting around the table was an extraordinary mixture of people in an extraordinary mixture of clothes. It was a Ziff. They were guests at a fancy dress party, but everybody had a different idea of what the theme should be. There was a large man dressed as a Nigerian prince, a couple of people who looked like bank claps from a story by Charles Dickins, a policeman with his blue helmet beside him on the table to nurses from the Second World War on American General smoking a cigar on and a lady dressed in a Salvation Army uniform at the head of the table. On with a glass of what looked like port in his hand. Saturn old gentleman wearing a wig as Felicity was put into the chair next to him, he stood up and tapped his glass with a spoon. The room fell silent. Miss Appleby, he said. My name is Salon. Salah Tumble, founder of Rough Tumble on bounder Be We are delighted to welcome you. Felicity stared at him with round eyes. Um, I, um I dead? She asked. Finally, in a weak voice, the group burst out laughing. Certainly not are Are you ghosts? They laughed even louder this time. Sorry, Uncle Lancelot said Frederick Miss Appleby bumped her head on. We didn't have a chance to explain. I see. Well, Miss Appleby, we are what you could call impressions what everybody here has at some time or other had something important to do with this building. Smudge was a very popular post boy, Mrs Twizzlers Iton. The lady in the black dress smiled at her, was one of London's finest detectives in the 18 seventies. Her office was on the ground floor on all of us, continued. Frederick made an impression on this building. You see, there are certain special buildings like this one that is similar to living organisms. They take on impressions of particular people. The same was when you press a key in tow wax, You get the shape, the impression of the key left behind in the wax. This means we remain here even if our physical Selves have left the building. And our souls have joined the heavenly choir above added salon salat piously. But mostly you living people hardly notice us. Why can I see you properly on? What did your nephew mean when he said you needed my help? No idea why you can see a salon, Salat replied. It's very rare these days. In fact, I think you're the 1st 1 since about 1980. I blame television, you know. And now with this computer nonsense, everybody is Uncle. I beg your pardon. Your second question. Help! Why we need it. You may remember this morning that you were rewriting a document for Mr Gust. Tube it because he's English is so execrable. Yes. Well, did you notice what the document was about? Something to do with the sale of a property and its redevelopment? Exactly. Well, the property in question is this one the director's plan to sell this building to some investors who will probably build some architectural monstrosity on this site. They have invited the possible buyers over for a meeting next week to conclude the deal. But that's not the worst of it. He leaned forward, took her hands on, looked into her eyes. Miss Eiffel, be unless you can help us stop this building being tourney down and replaced, we will cease to exist.