There is a uniform that the 'country set' wear. I'm not really enamoured of it myself.
For one thing I don't think I would get very much use out of it and I'm not actually sure the colours suit me. But as the vehicles on the drive started spilling forth their passengers it became a sea of green and yellow tweed.
Possibly because of the numbers, or maybe the dogs, the Convivial Count had the nibbles and drink for the shooting party served outside on long trestle tables set out to the side of the drive and with chairs and tables out on the front lawn. I'm sure there was a Plan B if the weather was inclement but today it was warm and, most importantly, dry. The dogs ran free whilst the Guns, loaders, picker-uppers and beaters tucked into the spread and there was a constant chatter which was loud enough to reach the open window of the library.
Jovial James and Green-fingers Gordon (assistant gardener) unpacked the dead birds from one of the vehicles. They would be taken into the cold store for now. Merciless Mary would sort through them keeping the better birds to be shared between the estate, the Guns and the butcher but would also put some decent ones aside for the beaters, loaders and picker-uppers. No-one would go home empty handed. The estate birds she would deal with personally. Merciless Mary would not hang her birds any longer than overnight and tomorrow she would have them all prepared. All would be plucked and dressed and a few would be stored in the fridge under dry tea towels to 'age' them for a few more days and then they would be cooked. Others would be frozen. The not so plump birds, or the ones that had been damaged, she would reduce to breast pieces and freeze those in batches. The aim was that no bird killed would be wasted. It was a messy job that would keep her busy for most of the day.
The birds, however carefully prepared, were likely to still have some shot in them. It is of note that the Convivial Count changed to steel shot some years ago and won't allow lead shot to be used on his shoots.
I left you engrossed in a pristine first edition copy of Charles Dicken's The Pickwick Papers and ventured forth to greet the tweedy bunch in the hope that there were some faces I recognised.
As it turns out there were. In addition to Ever-so-capable Evelyn, the Dashing Major and the Convivial Count (who disappeared at one point), there was Lord Marmaduke with some people from his party (including Sucking-lemons Cynthia), there was the gamekeeper Horny Hugh (apparently but I have no personal knowledge of this), Huge Boots Bill (investment banker in the city but with a weekend cottage in the village, and very large feet), No-nonsense Niamh (gun dog trainer extraordinaire and drinker of vodka - do not compete with her - she will have you on your back), Pervy Percy (his formative years were the 60's and 70's and his behaviour at times is something to behold) and the Brothers Grim. The latter had been beating and were sinking cold bottles of beer as if they were aware of some imminent shortage looming on the horizon. I don't think there is anything intrinsically bad about the Brothers Grim but they have a very loose grasp of the law and even less respect for it. You wouldn't buy a car from them put it that way. Or anything else for that matter. Any petty thefts or small scale fraud in the area were generally suspected to be their doing although there was rarely any evidence and therefore little chance of making charges stick. I think Brothers Grim 2 (the sequel) found himself in the magistrates' court recently but, as was generally the case, was found not guilty in the end.
He was currently assailing some poor man I did not recognise with his tales of woe and prejudice. "It's because we're travellers. That's why they're always blaming us for stuff. And harassing us" he added with a wide gesture of his arm that sent a small amount of beer arching out of the bottle. The Brothers Grim are not travellers. True at present they live in a caravan but this is a rather large and luxurious static caravan which is on some land belonging to their father (a local farmer). And my understanding is that they are only there until their father gets planning permission to convert a large old barn into a couple of semi-detached cottages for them. In fact the Brothers Grim come from a long line of farmers and the only regular travelling they do is to away matches to watch their beloved football club, and then to whichever magistrates court they have been bailed to after having being arrested for whatever mischief they have managed to get caught for.
And then there were the 'paying punters'. Some regulars but mostly infrequent visitors who were paying for the privilege of spending a day roaming over the estate and blasting birds out of the sky.
As I made my way over to the assembled group Pervy Percy spied me and made a bee-line towards me. In a very impressive manoeuvre the Dashing Major managed to somehow overtake him, casually link his arm in mine and then steer me towards No-nonsense Niamh and Lord Marmaduke (being the nearest of the group). Surprise, frustration and resignation followed each other quickly across the face of Pervy Percy who altered his course to join Sucking-lemons Cynthia's group. I was now being regaled with tales of the day and, when he thought he could not be overheard, Lord Marmaduke's witty character observations (and in some cases assassinations) of the assembled party.
It perhaps shouldn't be seen as any different to Plastic Patty's bitching but it felt so different. For one thing it lacked any real malice. Though I admit to some bias.
Speaking of whom it wasn't long before Plastic Patty appeared in a strappy silk dress and stiletto healed shoes. I believe they were Louboutin and what you would term 'pumps'. Pumps in my country are flat canvas sports shoes. These were neither flat, canvas nor sports shoes. And given the surface of the gravel drive, and then the softness of the soil when she reached the grass, wholly inappropriate for the terrain.
Pervy Percy, not to be thwarted a second time in pursuit of a young lady, was out of the blocks like a whippet on steroids. How was he to know that the Dashing Major was not likely to steer this quarry away from him. And in seconds he was leading the teetering Plastic Patty over to the assembled crew. I should say that Pervy Percy is not unattractive but he has the unfortunate, rather dated, look of a fading 1970's porn star. It's probably the moustache. As a man of a certain age, and income bracket, he also has an unfortunate sense of his own self-importance and feels the need to assault anyone who will listen with outdated and, quite frankly, offensive opinions.
For him chivalry was often a mask for chauvinism. And don't get me wrong, I have no problem with men opening doors, or giving up their seats, or whatever, but I don't expect them to then use that as an example of why I am a lesser human being or why I should adopt a particular place in society because of this. He is also a bit free with his hands at times and has no concept of people's personal space. I just find the man odious. But that may just be me.
Because Plastic Patty seemed to be enjoying his company enormously. Hangover presumably forgotten, or perhaps she was just topping the alcohol levels back up, she had a glass of white wine in hand and was animatedly chatting away, punctuating the conversation with her shrill laugh here and there. It was actually nice to see her having what appeared to be a genuinely good time.
The usual course of events for these things is that nibbles are eaten, the drinks drunk and then people leave. The 'paying punters' go home with the fruits of their day (and a printed booklet on what to do with them for those who require it - Merciless Mary's idea so as to avoid enquiries later). The beaters, loaders and picker-uppers might retire to the local pub, after they had been paid of course.
So when the beers had been drunk, the wages for those working handed out, and the birds distributed the Brothers Grim led the charge to the local hostelry. There was a filling of cars and off drove the Guns and Lord Marmaduke departed with his weekend guests.
But a few had been a bit slower to leave and it was at this point that Plastic Patty took it upon herself to invite those remaining to stay for dinner. I'm not sure what Merciless Mary had prepared for dinner but I was fairly sure it wouldn't stretch to the extra 7 people Plastic Patty was now ushering into the house. Amongst them was Pervy Percy, Huge Boots Bill, Horny Hugh (he had tried to decline but Plastic Patty was insistent), Clueless Christine (Horny Hugh's latest we discovered) and No-nonsense Niamh. There was also a father and son duo, Chinless Charlie and his son Spotty Steve, who were on a bonding weekend.
The Convivial Count had been elsewhere so the first he knew about this was when he was accosted by a furious Merciless Mary in full melt down. Ever-so-capable Evelyn had foreseen that this could be a problem and was looking for one or both of them to either forewarn or offer assistance. I too had been heading towards the kitchen and so arrived at the point that Ever-so-capable Evelyn was offering to do whatever she could to assist in the kitchen. I offered my services too and together we managed to persuade Merciless Mary that something could be done to salvage the situation.
Chinless Charlie and Spotty Steve had perhaps been carried along with the spontaneity and sensing that this was perhaps an invitation too far made their excuses and quickly departed before Plastic Patty could prevent them. But with Pervy Percy now installed making drinks and Plastic Patty playing gracious hostess everyone else settled down to see what the evening would bring.
I love my friend ever so much and Ever-so-capable Evelyn is ever so competent in a great many areas but she cannot cook for toffee. Merciless Mary, once she calmed down, thanked her for her kind offer but thought it best if she kept an eye on Plastic Patty and sent her on her way. I, on the other hand, had some small skill (mainly thanks to the patience of others and a collection of good cookbooks) so was allowed to assist. And that's when the Dashing Major appeared, sleeves rolled up and not taking no for an answer, and so together we did as we were instructed and a very decent meal, even if I say so myself, was produced and, more importantly, with enough for all.
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