B.I.T.E

‘I call this meeting to order!’ said Claire, Chief Zombie of the British Institute of Transformative Existence. ‘Raise your hand if you have something to add to the agenda, YOUR hand Derek, for goodness sake, we need to maintain some standards.’ ‘I could if SOMEONE kept their dog on a leash instead of letting them run around stealing other people’s limbs’ grumbled Derek, not quite under his breath. Claire steadfastly ignored him, her Chihuahua Chompsky snoozing by the foot of her chair, licking their lips in what could be seen as a provocative manner. As usual Claire also ignored the raised hands and carried on with her own agenda, which had been printed out and laminated beforehand. ‘I think we can all agree that the most important issue is the continued insistence of some of our group, not naming any names of course’ she continued, glaring pointedly at those she was definitely not naming, ‘that we should give in to our basest desires and simply wander around aimlessly looking for b..br..bra… foodstuffs.’ The group had leaned forwards intensely as she attempted to say That Word but even Claire didn’t have enough control to say it without going feral. ‘I simply cannot understand why anyone wouldn’t want to come to our supper clubs and eat a proper meal at a dining table with friends instead of GERTRUDE STOP THAT AT ONCE’ she thundered. ‘It’s just a little snack’ Gertrude said sheepishly, looking chastened, unsuccessfully trying to hide the finger she had been gnawing on. ‘This is exactly the kind of behaviour I’m talking about’ Claire said exasperated. ‘Gertrude has only just transformed…’ said Aaliyah, heroically trying to defend her new friend, and receiving a shy smile from her in return. ‘Nevertheless’ Claire continued with barely a glance in her direction ‘There have to be rules. We need to have shared values and a system and meetings and consensus. Look at the vampires, for example. They have culture and organisation and class...’ Claire’s gaze turned wistful for a moment, before she snapped back into her usual prim demeanour. ‘Even the werewolves have a hierarchy. Do we really want to be looked down upon by the werewolves?’ she glared at the group. 

There was some nervous shuffling and awkward coughing, until Barry cleared his throat. ‘Maybe some of us don’t care’ he said, with his arms crossed over his barrel chest and a steely gaze. He was still wearing his Truckers Union t-shirt, which was surprisingly absent of the holes and shredded edges the other's clothing was sporting. ‘Maybe we don’t want to impress a bunch of Tory voting, worker exploiting, country estate bastards who literally suck the blood of the common man as well as figuratively doing it.’ he said, to enthusiastic nods from his fellow truckers. Claire bristled ‘Oh you think complete anarchy would be fairer do you? Who do you think is going to end up with most of the food if everyone just does as they like? Hmmm? How will the common woman fare?’ she shot back. Claire’s Chihuahua had rolled over and started growling softly in Barry’s direction. ‘I’m not saying that’ Barry grumbled ‘I’m not saying we don’t work together, you always make out I don’t want to work together.’ he said, shifting uncomfortably. ‘Well you always make out I’m just stuck up and I want everyone to do what I say.’ Claire complained, matching his arms crossed posture and his scowl. The rest of the group started sighing disinterestedly or rolling their eyes. Gertrude took the opportunity to have another nibble at her snack, coyly offering some to Aaliyah. The meetings did usually devolve into the two of them sniping at each other, but not this quickly. 

‘Ahem’ a soft cough interrupted the awkward silence cautiously as people looked around to see where it came from. ‘Oh, yes, erm, everyone we do have a new person to welcome into the group” Claire said slightly bashfully. It was very unlike her to neglect to announce a new member, and she blushed at her uncharacteristic lack of social propriety. ‘ This is Mr… erm…’ ‘Vasilyevich’ he supplied, deepening Claire’s blush to a decent burgundy. ‘Thank you for the introduction, but, please, call me Nikolai.’ he said, with a small smile just visible under his impressive moustache. Somehow his gentle voice commanded the entire room. “It seemed an appropriate moment to extend an invitation to you all to dinner with me and my family this evening; perhaps a BBQ would be a suitable compromise to the food dilemma? We have plenty of space and everyone can bring what they are able for us all to share? If I am not overstepping, of course.’ He finished with a warm glance in Claire’s direction. The blush which had begun to retreat threatened to overwhelm her once more. ‘No, I mean yes’ she stuttered and then composed herself ‘No you are not overstepping and yes that sounds lovely.’ she managed, ‘And for you, comrade?’ Nickolai directed towards Barry ‘I believe the BBQ is a union tradition if the weather is fine?’ Barry looked surprised and then glanced down to his t-shirt ‘Oh aye’ he said wistfully ‘I’ve had some cracking barbies in my time. Demon with a spatula, me.’ he said, his friends around him nodding in agreement. Nickolai smiled wider ‘Wonderful! I have always found it is easier to reach an agreement with a full stomach, especially on important matters. If I may make one more suggestion?’ He asked, receiving nods from all present ‘As it may take a little time to gather everything and everyone, perhaps we could continue this vital work afterwards?’ enthusiastic nodding commenced. ‘Claire I believe you are the steadfast organiser in these troubled times?’ he asked again, causing her face to light up like a beacon. ‘Well I wouldn’t.. I mean we all play our part’ she said with the smug smile of the falsely modest. ‘Your skills would be much appreciated, as would those of our union man.’ he said, catching the eye of Barry whose chest had puffed up so much he couldn’t even keep his arms folded properly any more. ‘Well then, I suppose… meeting adjourned to be completed after the BBQ at Nickolai’s house!’ Claire said, to some actual cheers and a scattering of applause. 

Nickolai received more than a few handshakes and pats on the shoulder to both welcome and thank him before people split off into groups to be organised by a grinning Claire. Gertrude and Aaliyah approached Nickolai after the hubbub had died down. ‘How the hell did you do that?’ Aaliyah asked him in a low voice. He looked up at her with a sparkle in his eyes ‘I have found that most people just want to feel appreciated’ he said softly ‘So I find something to appreciate about them and then try to steer them towards co-operation. It is not always possible, but often, it is.’ he said. ‘Strong minded people are passionate, but without direction it can be… overwhelming.’ ‘Or combustible’ Gertrude added. Nickolai laughed ‘Indeed! But our differences make us valuable, do they not?’ he said, glancing down at the women’s entwined hands. They both smiled, sheepishly ‘We haven’t really told anyone ...’ ‘The time will be right when you feel it is.’ He reassured them. ‘I have a daughter who I think would be very pleased to meet you both’ he added ‘if you would be happy to?’ They glanced at each other then replied ‘Of course!’ ‘Certainly!’ then laughed together. 

A few hours later and Barry had the impressively large BBQ going at full capacity, while his friends made helpful comments about how good it was cooking over a real fire and how good a team they were. Claire had found some extra benches and napkins, arranged them all to fit companionably together and was starting to organise a line for the first lot of finished cold cuts which had been arranged on a buffet style table. Aaliyah and Gertrude helped Nikolai's daughter, Zara, with some hurricane lamps which were to be dotted around the extensive garden, chatting animatedly as they went. Nickolai wandered around topping up cups with sweet black tea from a heavy copper teapot, happily in his element as the host and social butterfly, skillfully introducing people who had been in the same meeting every week for months, but never actually met. Many of them just so happened to have this or that in common and fell companionably into easy conversations. Chompsky sat under the buffet table, happily gnawing on a scrap of flesh Derek had ‘dropped accidentally’ while he was setting out the extra plates. It was fair to say that B.I.T.E had never had such a successful meeting.