The Mystery of the Materialising Money
I love a mystery. Well as a sort of magician I would I guess, but I really do love mysteries. If there’s a mystery film I’m there, in rapt attention for the clues. Woebetide anyone who says anything at a pertinent moment in the plot. Of course I mostly watch alone now, poor old sod. Anyway I love mysteries and I’ve just been a major player in a real life one!
I had had a hard day at the chalk face today in Dinas Bran school in Llangollen, with my theatre company. Two times two hour sessions this morning so I was feeling shattered but quite happy with the prospect of an afternoon pottering in the allotment. I called at the Big House to collect my mail. Mostly predictable as always, but then I came to a thin re-used paddy bag that had my name on it spelled as ‘Mister Alexander’. Quite rare that. Usually ‘Mr Alexander’. No sender’s name on the back and I wasn’t expecting anything. The bag had a label that had been franked when it had been originally used and this label was still in place. At first I thought that the package was from this company, but then noticed that a large first class stamp (I mean a first class stamp for a large letter) had been stuck on below the printed sticker. The new postmark was blurred and unreadable. The original postal sticker was from a very well known Covent Garden theatrical makeup company. Anyone who has been five minutes in the business will know the name and I thought maybe it was a flier from them. A long shot maybe but no. The paddy bag had been sellotaped and was obviously a re-used envelope. My curiosity was racing now. It was thin, no lumps to be felt inside. Originally the envelope had been sent to someone in Brentford in Essex. I don’t think I know of anyone in Brentford who buys theatrical makeup.
I know you’re thinking why don’t I just get to the point and open it. But I love a mystery! I will often spend ages trying to work out who has sent a letter before I open it. There were no more clues on the outside so I did open it. I almost expected some sort of odd letter. Inside though was yet another envelope. White C4 sealed. This was becoming wonderfully tantalising! No marks, messages, notes on the outside of the second envelope. Would there be a third and so on like that great trick where something is found inside a nest of envelopes?
So yes I opened it, and inside folded neatly was £50 in cash. And that’s all. No note, no message, no clue! Two ponies in a paddy!
Now I have had some nice surprises in my life but I have never ever had a mystery donation of cash! When I am busking and someone puts a bank note in the hat this is a real bonus and I have had a £20 note a few times. That’s definitely an Italian! (I make cracks in the show when I receive notes in the hat – a fiver is ‘Chips tonight!’ a tenner is ‘Chinese tonight’ and £20 is an Italian!) So £50 is a really special night out!!
But then is the money really mine? No-one owes me money and surely no-one I know would just put £50 in an envelope without a message. Curioser and curioser…
So do I have a sugar daddy? I think I would prefer a sugar mummy really, but you know what I mean. Or is there an obvious simple explanation? Is the sticker on the envelope a clue? This could have been torn off but wasn’t. And a theatre makeup company. Very specialised in fact. And Brentford in Essex. Only a place I’ve ever driven through.
It’s going to drive me nuts in nice way! If the mystery benefactor is one of my blog readers then I must say a real thank you. I will consider it an investment rather than a gift and it will be placed in my emergency busking tin, which is now down to about a fiver in pennies and twos until such a time as I either really need it (which might well be very soon!!) or I discover where it came from.
And hey if anyone else wants to support the cause... No only joking. But a lovely way to end a day and if anyone can throw some light on the mystery, please get in touch! Or maybe no, don’t, because it wouldn’t be a mystery anymore and I loved the mystery!
£50 richer, result, happiness, to misquote Mr Micawber.
All the best from a road near you,