Never Knew I Was So Rich.
I Am So Rich!
The day I arrived in my now home, in my new city Edinburgh, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to a very strange couple, a man dressed in a shiny black suit with a bowler hat, and the woman in bridal white satin, with a red hat, and with gloves on. I was glad they did not want to come in, on account of suitcases which were all over the place. ‘We have more visits to make,’ they said, ‘and very little time. We represent the City, and have only come to welcome you.’ That’s jolly decent, I thought. ‘And to inform you that we are handing over to you the deeds to the following,’ they added.
To my amazement, the lady began by saying that from this day, The Botanic Gardens and all its contents belonged to me. The blue poppies, the redwood trees etc …
“The blue poppies, the orchids…”
To do as I liked with, to be treated as my own, to enjoy walks in and breathe its healthy air, admire the colours etc. There had to be a catch, I was thinking, but the man seemed to read my thoughts. ‘It’s better than being the owner, because as you would expect, the people who own the big stately homes have a lot of trouble with maintenance. With your Botanic Gardens, we, the City are responsible for everything. We pay the considerable workforce to keep it shipshape, to renew the flora and promote scientific research. We cover all the expenses arising.’
‘Am I allowed to -’ They read my thought again.
‘Are we not right in saying that when you have flowers growing in their own gardens, in order to admire them you do not need to cut them?’ I admitted that they were right.
Facetiously I asked if it was all right for me to sell what they said was mine. To my surprise, they nodded emphatically.
‘Absolutely,’ they said, ‘but for no more than what you paid for.’ Fair enough, I thought. After only a short pause, they said, ‘But since it also belongs to every single citizen already, we do not think that there would be any prospective buyers.’
After the shortest of pauses, they continued with their list. The Meadows,
“The Meadows…”
with its golf links, its walks, tennis courts, free spectacles of acrobats practising, musicians jamming, children gambolling and laughing, all the dogs running about. All mine. Lucky me, I mused, since my new house is nearby.
There was more to come. The beaches at Portobello, Cramond, Leith, the Canals, the quaint little vennels, the cobbled lanes, Scott’s Monument, all the
statues of good men and women, the fountains, the Princes Street Gardens, Arthur’s Seat, the Follies on Calton Hill, Greyfriars Bobby, the Sherlock Holmes Statue, the catalogue was endless.
‘They’re all yours,’ the pair said, nodding happily. I had certainly made the right choice by relocating here. But the greatest was to come.
‘You will no doubt be glad to hear that the ownership of all the national art galleries and museums is also yours.’
‘With all the art treasures in them?’ I asked needlessly.
‘Oh, absolutely. You can go in any time and demand to see enjoy them.’
‘Is The Skating Minister included?’ I asked.
‘Of course, we said everything.’ Never knew I was so rich, I said, I’m so lucky.
‘They’re not only yours, but we look after them, protect them, and when needed, we carry out cleaning and repair jobs. At no cost to you. You don’t have to worry about a thing,’ said the lady in white, I was overwhelmed by this bounty. I could never imagine being so rich.
‘Do you have a question before we go?’ they asked.
‘I am truly grateful for all this,’ I said, ‘but I have hardly any savings …’ They burst out laughing.
‘But you pay your taxes,’ they exclaimed. I did not.
‘I am afraid, you’ve given me all those treasures under false pretences. I am now retired and my pension is so small I am exempted. So no, I pay no taxes.’ They did not seem put off.
‘But you have paid taxes in the past?’ I assured them that I had. They smiled, turned round, but before leaving, they had one last salvo.
‘Actually, even if for some reason you had never worked, and had never paid any taxes, our decision would have been the same.’
