Annie Christie's That Long Hot Summer
Episode Twelve
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: None.
Description: Back to life, back to reality.
Swearwords: None.
Description: Back to life, back to reality.
We’re blurring the boundaries now between fact and fiction as we come right up to date. No one could describe the summer of 2016 as being hot, though it was long, and it was significant for one word. Brexit.
Heads rolled. The world changed on its axis. The ‘migrants’ kept coming. The bombs are still falling in Syria. We have all learned that ‘Brexit means Brexit’ but we are still none the wiser what Brexit means. For any of us.
It simply reminds us that we all live in the grip of something much bigger than ourselves. We are all held in thrall to a monster we all helped to create and which –if we are wise – we all live in fear of. To save ourselves we need to rise to the challenge. We need to find creative solutions, not endless recriminations.
* * *
In France, when the first Chateau was completed, there was still money coming in. So creative solutions bought another one. Daniel and Shelley took a weekend break in the autumn which gave him the first chance to see what they were doing – for real.
Susie went with them because her plan was to run drama workshops from the Chateau. Firstly for the refugees domiciled there and then for paying customers. She was testing what was to become a ready market – creative retreats with a social conscience.
‘Chris’ and his family moved on to the second Chateau to oversee it, taking his refugee labour force with him. Those who couldn’t labour stayed behind and learned the art of ‘hospitality’ under Susie’s management.
They spent some time, as perhaps we all should, considering what it means to be a refugee. Through a combination of Boalian techniques, the world was reimagined in a different light. Drama gave power and strength to people whose lives had been turned upside down through no fault of their own. Many of them had children with them. It wasn’t considered wise to go above the radar too far, enrolling the children into local schools, but the skills within the refugees were there to home-educate. These children relished learning. They all learned French and English – in order to be ready for whatever might come.
But make no mistake, this is a world away from the Jungle. This is new refugee solution. It’s the kind of solution which we can’t even grasp locally as we struggle to deal with our own housing problem. There’s never enough ‘affordable’ housing and yet town centres and office complexes lie empty. We have lost the direct link between humans and need. It’s all got lost in the greed of the market economy.
Ironically, Creative Solutions France found that as long as the business was turning a profit, people turned their heads. Paying your taxes is the local equivalent of having a passport. Far from being bothered about ‘people coming in taking our jobs’, as long as they are spending money in the local shops and buying supplies from the local suppliers, people are content to live and let live. As in England. No one cared whose name was on the National Insurance number as long as the tax was being paid. Mohammed in France may have been given a new identity – making use of a life Christopher had stolen from him – but Ammar’s identity was more fluid for the best part of a year while he waited for his asylum claim to be processed. No one had the time or inclination to check.
But as another summer beckoned, as Daniel and Shelley celebrated their first anniversary together, the thunder clouds were gathering over Europe.
It was a stroke of irony too coincidental to be allowed in fiction that saw Ammar and his family granted indefinite leave to remain on the very day Britain voted to leave the European Union. Or to be more precise, England and Wales voted. Scotland, Northern Ireland and forgotten little Gibraltar voted to remain. The Channel Islands, the Isle of Man and the Falkland Islands had no say in the matter as they are not part of the EU treaty – which suggests that what we consider as ‘Britain’ is a flexible enough feast to allow the countries or nations, or whatever you want to call them, who voted to remain to be allowed to remain while the rest leave. Patchwork Britain already exists. Time for some creative solutions!
But for Daniel and Shelley the canvas is still somewhat smaller. Issues of sovereignty are less important to them than basic human rights.
‘What do we do now?’ Daniel asked Shelley. ‘I never thought this would happen. It’s like pulling up the drawbridge just when we need to be opening doors wider.’
‘We walk through the door while it’s still open,’ Shelley said. ‘And we get creative.’
They told Ammar first.
‘I am very lucky,’ said Ammar showing his documentation.
‘You couldn’t write it,’ Shelley replied, noting the irony of the date on the letter. ‘But we’ve got to make sure you get the best possible chance here now.’
‘And we need to keep one step ahead,’ Daniel added. ‘Because this could affect all of us. Next year, or the year after, we may need visas even to get to France. What then?’
While the politicians went on their summer holidays and pretended like nothing major was happening, the real people on the streets were beginning to face up to the ramifications of the vote. For foreign nationals living in Britain it was a fearful time. For those without citizenship even worse. And for the ‘illegals’ a hard life just became a little bit harder.
‘We always seem to succeed when we go against the direction of travel,’ Shelley pointed out to Daniel. ‘So I suggest that we move to France.’
‘I don’t even speak French,’ Daniel said.
‘You can learn,’ Shelley said. ‘You didn’t know how to do all sorts of things this time last year, did you? Just trust me.’
So he did. Together they constructed a plan which would benefit everyone in the short term – and that is about as far ahead as anyone can sensibly plan these days. There is no security. We are all migrants in the making and we all need to find our refuge where we can.
‘The only certainty in life is uncertainty,’ Mike opined as Daniel outlined his plan. ‘Go for it.’ It was good advice coming from Mike, who, despite living in a different country, was determined to make a go of a relationship with Susie. Brexit offered some uncertainty to their future plans as well. Susie was well established in France and Mike firmly rooted in Salford.
As long as EasyJet remained easy there would be no real problem, but one day he knew a decision would have to be made. Then Brexit forced his hand.
‘It was a sort of knee jerk reaction,’ he admitted to Daniel. ‘I’ve asked Susie to marry me.’
‘You what?’ Daniel said. ‘How is that even going to work?’
‘We don’t have to live in the same country to begin with,’ Mike pointed out. ‘A foot in each camp could be most useful. And we’re going to get married at the Chateau,’ he paused. ‘You’re invited, of course,’ he said. ‘In fact, you’re best man.’
‘Me?’ Daniel was amazed.
‘Yes, and don’t start stressing over speeches or any of that,’ Mike said. ‘Just say what a great guy I am and leave the stage.’
‘Happy to,’ said Daniel. ‘When is this happening by the way?’
‘How long does it take to plan a wedding?’ Mike asked.
‘No idea,’ Daniel replied.
‘A creative solutions wedding, a couple of weeks, I’m guessing,’ Mike said. ‘Susie says there’s a gap in bookings at the Chateau in the first week of September, so… you may be leaving in a month, but you won’t be lonely without me for long.’
Because the latest plan Daniel had just outlined to Mike was one where he gave up his research chemist job and moved to France with Shelley.
‘So you’re becoming an economic migrant?’ Mike laughed.
Daniel wasn’t sorry to leave the job. In fact it was part of the master plan. ‘I know just the man to fill it,’ he said.
‘He certainly is,’ Mike said. ‘He’s got a much better sense of humour than you have for a start.’
‘And he’s a much better chemist,’ Daniel added.
‘I didn’t want to kick a man when he’s half way out the door,’ Mike laughed.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Daniel.
‘I won’t,’ said Mike, ‘you know, Dan, you’re a man of hidden talents.’
‘Shelley is bringing them out into the light,’ Daniel replied.
‘She’s one weird chick, but she’s just right for you,’ Mike answered. ‘And that’s a compliment, by the way,’ he added, just in case Daniel didn’t know.
Daniel resigned. His job was advertised. Ammar applied. Ammar got the job. He was by far the highest qualified, and having worked there (unknown to the interview panel) previously he could come up with all the right answers.
‘Thank you, my brother,’ Ammar said to Daniel when he opened the letter of appointment.
‘I’m not sure how much you should thank me for palming my life off on you,’ Daniel said.
‘You have recycled it,’ Ammar said. ‘For you it might have been trash, for me it is treasure.’
It wasn’t just the job. Daniel passed over the keys to his house to Ammar. ‘It’s a family house,’ he said. ‘You are the family who fit here best.’
It was the best start imaginable for Ammar. ‘Who could be so lucky?’ he said. ‘If I had not met you in the Jungle…?’
‘Co-incidences are all around us,’ Shelley said, ‘you just have to open your eyes to them.’
‘But what are you doing with your lives?’ Ammar asked.
‘We’re going to become economic migrants,’ Shelley joked. ‘Before all the borders are closed to us too.’
‘How?’ Ammar said.
‘We’re moving to France,’ Daniel said.
After all, this was not the end of the journey for anyone. Ammar and his family were not eligible to apply for British citizenship for a further twelve months, and who knows what the landscape of Britain will look like in 2017.
‘One way or another we will dance at your wedding,’ he told Shelley and Daniel as they left for France. They laughed, but it got Daniel thinking.
He proposed on the ferry.
She accepted, on one condition.
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘We don’t get married until Ammar and Mohammed can dance at our wedding.’
‘Which means either we have to get Mohammed – ‘Christopher’ – to Britain, or Ammar to France.’
‘It’s a challenge,’ Shelley agreed, ‘but I’m sure we’re up to it.’
But that, as they say, is another story.
Heads rolled. The world changed on its axis. The ‘migrants’ kept coming. The bombs are still falling in Syria. We have all learned that ‘Brexit means Brexit’ but we are still none the wiser what Brexit means. For any of us.
It simply reminds us that we all live in the grip of something much bigger than ourselves. We are all held in thrall to a monster we all helped to create and which –if we are wise – we all live in fear of. To save ourselves we need to rise to the challenge. We need to find creative solutions, not endless recriminations.
* * *
In France, when the first Chateau was completed, there was still money coming in. So creative solutions bought another one. Daniel and Shelley took a weekend break in the autumn which gave him the first chance to see what they were doing – for real.
Susie went with them because her plan was to run drama workshops from the Chateau. Firstly for the refugees domiciled there and then for paying customers. She was testing what was to become a ready market – creative retreats with a social conscience.
‘Chris’ and his family moved on to the second Chateau to oversee it, taking his refugee labour force with him. Those who couldn’t labour stayed behind and learned the art of ‘hospitality’ under Susie’s management.
They spent some time, as perhaps we all should, considering what it means to be a refugee. Through a combination of Boalian techniques, the world was reimagined in a different light. Drama gave power and strength to people whose lives had been turned upside down through no fault of their own. Many of them had children with them. It wasn’t considered wise to go above the radar too far, enrolling the children into local schools, but the skills within the refugees were there to home-educate. These children relished learning. They all learned French and English – in order to be ready for whatever might come.
But make no mistake, this is a world away from the Jungle. This is new refugee solution. It’s the kind of solution which we can’t even grasp locally as we struggle to deal with our own housing problem. There’s never enough ‘affordable’ housing and yet town centres and office complexes lie empty. We have lost the direct link between humans and need. It’s all got lost in the greed of the market economy.
Ironically, Creative Solutions France found that as long as the business was turning a profit, people turned their heads. Paying your taxes is the local equivalent of having a passport. Far from being bothered about ‘people coming in taking our jobs’, as long as they are spending money in the local shops and buying supplies from the local suppliers, people are content to live and let live. As in England. No one cared whose name was on the National Insurance number as long as the tax was being paid. Mohammed in France may have been given a new identity – making use of a life Christopher had stolen from him – but Ammar’s identity was more fluid for the best part of a year while he waited for his asylum claim to be processed. No one had the time or inclination to check.
But as another summer beckoned, as Daniel and Shelley celebrated their first anniversary together, the thunder clouds were gathering over Europe.
It was a stroke of irony too coincidental to be allowed in fiction that saw Ammar and his family granted indefinite leave to remain on the very day Britain voted to leave the European Union. Or to be more precise, England and Wales voted. Scotland, Northern Ireland and forgotten little Gibraltar voted to remain. The Channel Islands, the Isle of Man and the Falkland Islands had no say in the matter as they are not part of the EU treaty – which suggests that what we consider as ‘Britain’ is a flexible enough feast to allow the countries or nations, or whatever you want to call them, who voted to remain to be allowed to remain while the rest leave. Patchwork Britain already exists. Time for some creative solutions!
But for Daniel and Shelley the canvas is still somewhat smaller. Issues of sovereignty are less important to them than basic human rights.
‘What do we do now?’ Daniel asked Shelley. ‘I never thought this would happen. It’s like pulling up the drawbridge just when we need to be opening doors wider.’
‘We walk through the door while it’s still open,’ Shelley said. ‘And we get creative.’
They told Ammar first.
‘I am very lucky,’ said Ammar showing his documentation.
‘You couldn’t write it,’ Shelley replied, noting the irony of the date on the letter. ‘But we’ve got to make sure you get the best possible chance here now.’
‘And we need to keep one step ahead,’ Daniel added. ‘Because this could affect all of us. Next year, or the year after, we may need visas even to get to France. What then?’
While the politicians went on their summer holidays and pretended like nothing major was happening, the real people on the streets were beginning to face up to the ramifications of the vote. For foreign nationals living in Britain it was a fearful time. For those without citizenship even worse. And for the ‘illegals’ a hard life just became a little bit harder.
‘We always seem to succeed when we go against the direction of travel,’ Shelley pointed out to Daniel. ‘So I suggest that we move to France.’
‘I don’t even speak French,’ Daniel said.
‘You can learn,’ Shelley said. ‘You didn’t know how to do all sorts of things this time last year, did you? Just trust me.’
So he did. Together they constructed a plan which would benefit everyone in the short term – and that is about as far ahead as anyone can sensibly plan these days. There is no security. We are all migrants in the making and we all need to find our refuge where we can.
‘The only certainty in life is uncertainty,’ Mike opined as Daniel outlined his plan. ‘Go for it.’ It was good advice coming from Mike, who, despite living in a different country, was determined to make a go of a relationship with Susie. Brexit offered some uncertainty to their future plans as well. Susie was well established in France and Mike firmly rooted in Salford.
As long as EasyJet remained easy there would be no real problem, but one day he knew a decision would have to be made. Then Brexit forced his hand.
‘It was a sort of knee jerk reaction,’ he admitted to Daniel. ‘I’ve asked Susie to marry me.’
‘You what?’ Daniel said. ‘How is that even going to work?’
‘We don’t have to live in the same country to begin with,’ Mike pointed out. ‘A foot in each camp could be most useful. And we’re going to get married at the Chateau,’ he paused. ‘You’re invited, of course,’ he said. ‘In fact, you’re best man.’
‘Me?’ Daniel was amazed.
‘Yes, and don’t start stressing over speeches or any of that,’ Mike said. ‘Just say what a great guy I am and leave the stage.’
‘Happy to,’ said Daniel. ‘When is this happening by the way?’
‘How long does it take to plan a wedding?’ Mike asked.
‘No idea,’ Daniel replied.
‘A creative solutions wedding, a couple of weeks, I’m guessing,’ Mike said. ‘Susie says there’s a gap in bookings at the Chateau in the first week of September, so… you may be leaving in a month, but you won’t be lonely without me for long.’
Because the latest plan Daniel had just outlined to Mike was one where he gave up his research chemist job and moved to France with Shelley.
‘So you’re becoming an economic migrant?’ Mike laughed.
Daniel wasn’t sorry to leave the job. In fact it was part of the master plan. ‘I know just the man to fill it,’ he said.
‘He certainly is,’ Mike said. ‘He’s got a much better sense of humour than you have for a start.’
‘And he’s a much better chemist,’ Daniel added.
‘I didn’t want to kick a man when he’s half way out the door,’ Mike laughed.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Daniel.
‘I won’t,’ said Mike, ‘you know, Dan, you’re a man of hidden talents.’
‘Shelley is bringing them out into the light,’ Daniel replied.
‘She’s one weird chick, but she’s just right for you,’ Mike answered. ‘And that’s a compliment, by the way,’ he added, just in case Daniel didn’t know.
Daniel resigned. His job was advertised. Ammar applied. Ammar got the job. He was by far the highest qualified, and having worked there (unknown to the interview panel) previously he could come up with all the right answers.
‘Thank you, my brother,’ Ammar said to Daniel when he opened the letter of appointment.
‘I’m not sure how much you should thank me for palming my life off on you,’ Daniel said.
‘You have recycled it,’ Ammar said. ‘For you it might have been trash, for me it is treasure.’
It wasn’t just the job. Daniel passed over the keys to his house to Ammar. ‘It’s a family house,’ he said. ‘You are the family who fit here best.’
It was the best start imaginable for Ammar. ‘Who could be so lucky?’ he said. ‘If I had not met you in the Jungle…?’
‘Co-incidences are all around us,’ Shelley said, ‘you just have to open your eyes to them.’
‘But what are you doing with your lives?’ Ammar asked.
‘We’re going to become economic migrants,’ Shelley joked. ‘Before all the borders are closed to us too.’
‘How?’ Ammar said.
‘We’re moving to France,’ Daniel said.
After all, this was not the end of the journey for anyone. Ammar and his family were not eligible to apply for British citizenship for a further twelve months, and who knows what the landscape of Britain will look like in 2017.
‘One way or another we will dance at your wedding,’ he told Shelley and Daniel as they left for France. They laughed, but it got Daniel thinking.
He proposed on the ferry.
She accepted, on one condition.
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘We don’t get married until Ammar and Mohammed can dance at our wedding.’
‘Which means either we have to get Mohammed – ‘Christopher’ – to Britain, or Ammar to France.’
‘It’s a challenge,’ Shelley agreed, ‘but I’m sure we’re up to it.’
But that, as they say, is another story.
About the Author
Annie Christie is a pretty ordinary person, except that she was born Annie Christie and then married a man called Christie and so is still called Christie despite having taken on her husband’s name. She sometimes wonders if she should have called herself Christie-Christie: but who would believe that?
Born near Drum of Wartle in Aberdeenshire, Annie moved as swiftly as possible to a place with a less bizarre name – Edinburgh – but the bizarreness chased her and she now lives with her husband Rab in rural Galloway, with a Kirkcudbrightshire postcode. (That's Cur coo bree shire to the uninitiated.) She is an active member of the Infinite Jigsaw Project.
That Long Hot Summer is Annie's third McSerial written for McStorytellers.
Born near Drum of Wartle in Aberdeenshire, Annie moved as swiftly as possible to a place with a less bizarre name – Edinburgh – but the bizarreness chased her and she now lives with her husband Rab in rural Galloway, with a Kirkcudbrightshire postcode. (That's Cur coo bree shire to the uninitiated.) She is an active member of the Infinite Jigsaw Project.
That Long Hot Summer is Annie's third McSerial written for McStorytellers.