I think that would be a rather wonderful name for a shop. Probably some boutique place that smells of vanilla and has handwritten price tags for extremely expensive frippery.
I am very pleased that you and your dad have managed to reconnect and as you say it is so nice that something good has come out of all of this. And your gramps will hopefully be laid to rest with Great-uncle Bojo so that too brings that bit to a positive conclusion.
All in all a job well done, Pirate. I am so looking forward to seeing you soon and having a proper catch up.
Okay so where did I leave you as regards the weekend events? Ah yes. So I had introduced you to our dramatis personae and a delightful bunch of dinner guests they were turning out to be. Lord Marmaduke and I managed to pre-empt the call to dinner and installed ourselves side by side in the middle of one side of the dining table before anyone could object. From this position we were well placed to see and hear everything and to whisper our comments and observations to each other. Lord Marmaduke has incredibly good hearing for a man of his age. At least that is what I thought until he told me that he has those hearing aids that sit inside the ear and are almost imperceptible unless you are looking for them. I don't know if he had them cranked up to 11 but he didn't seem to miss a thing.
The Dashing Major popped himself next to me and Lady Marmaduke next to her husband. The Right Reverend Rupert placed himself next to Lady Marmaduke and therefore on the left of the Convivial Count who took up his position at the head of the table. At the other end of said table Ever-so-capable Evelyn had been seated by the Convivial Count, with a smile, before he sat himself at the other end. Sucking-lemons Cynthia, perhaps in a move to get as far away as possible from Barrow-boy Bruce, sat down to the Dashing Major and her husband quickly scuttled in to the remaining seat at our side of the table.
I think that Chief Superintendent Eric (retired) had hoped to sit on the right of the Convivial Count but was unfortunately delayed in his move towards the dining room by Tangerine Tracey, who had linked her arm in his and was moving at a pace reserved for funeral processions and bridal entrances. So this meant that Honest Joe got there first with Simpering Stella sliding dutifully in beside him. Barrow-boy Bruce sat himself next to Simpering Stella, and, leaving a space for Tangerine Tracey, Pervy Percy then sat down with Plastic Patty at his side. This left the Chief Superintendent Eric (retired) no option but to place himself on the right of Ever-so-capable Evelyn with Plastic Patty on his other side. He looked distinctly unhappy at his lot which tickled us no end I will tell you.
Actually I should say that I really felt sorry for Ever-so-capable Evelyn who I don't think, in spite of her best efforts, managed to get two words out of the husband of Sucking-lemons Cynthia. Which meant that almost the entire meal was taken up with having to listen to Chief Superintendent Eric's (retired) whinging about the general state of the world, the specific state of the county, and how it was different in his day. The latter part of this he illustrated with tales of how his swift action and super-human intelligence had elevated him to the position of Chief Superintendent and how much his successor is failing in comparison.
When Merciless Mary was assisting with the serving of the food I managed a quick whisper to enquire if she had any sleeping pills. She looked very concerned until I explained that it would be a kindness to Ever-so-capable Evelyn if she did and could slip a couple in the Chief Superintendent Eric's (retired) wine. I got a stern look for that but she was giggling when she moved down the table. Suffice to say she didn't and he continued to drone on.
The other guests though were far more entertaining.
Honest Joe and the Right Reverend Rupert were vying for the attention of the Convivial Count all the way through dinner. Honest Joe appeared to be looking for support for some scheme or other and felt that the Convivial Count's backing would produce dividends - more like validity to some shady scheme or other - was the view of Lord Marmaduke. The Right Reverend Rupert vacillated between seeking support - cash more like - for the church renovations and bemoaning the penury of his flock - in terms of their pockets rather than their faith - again was the view of Lord Marmaduke. Quite frankly I think the Convivial Count must have a bottomless pit of patience because he sat politely through it all and nodded and reflected but, as was pointed out by Lord Marmaduke, was careful to never agree or commit himself to anything his neighbours were proposing.
Barrow-boy Bruce had attempted to engage Simpering Stella in conversation regarding the glamour of politics and how marvellous it must be. He quickly hit a brick wall there when she tritely told him that she took no part in her husband's occupation except in so far as she kept a home for him to come home to - when he could drag himself away from his mistresses and other shady affairs in London - Lord Marmaduke again - and supported him in whatever way she was able, albeit from a distance. So after that he simply talked over her head to Honest Joe who, I think, had quickly realised that a rich businessman was a passable substitute for a non-committal Count. Simpering Stella took refuge with what was a really, good dinner only sipping occasionally at her wine and looking lost in her own thoughts.
Tangerine Tracey was far more gregarious and had engaged Pervy Percy in conversation from almost the moment that she had taken up her seat. He in turn appeared flattered by the attention and together they were guffawing and cackling through dinner. Plastic Patty was not at all amused at this. Her fiancée had, for most of the meal, had his head turned away from her, leaving her only Chief Superintendent Eric (retired) to talk to. Which was no choice at all really. I'm not sure if you recollect but the Convivial Count's dining table is rather wide so shouting across the table was not really an option; at least not with the volume levels as they were. So she sat glumly pushing her food around her plate with her fork and taking refuge in the wine.
And as we know, Pirate, that never ends well now does it.
The Dashing Major was on a charm offensive with Sucking-lemons Cynthia who was warming to him as the evening went on. He was showing an interest in her good works and she in turn was asking him about his time in the services. She had a nephew in the territorial army so knew all about these things but was interested in his take on the state of our country's defences at present. At the mention of the territorial army Lord Marmaduke choked on his wine and had to have a few raps on his back before he recovered.
It really was an excellent meal and when the last of the plates were cleared away we all shuffled off to the rather grand drawing room. I say shuffled, Plastic Patty was a little on the wobbly side of shuffle even at this stage.
Once in the drawing room Barrow-boy Bruce started to ask the Convivial Count for his advice on wine having enjoyed a fair amount of it at dinner. In the discussion the Convivial Count mentioned his wine cellar which Barrow-boy Bruce, Honest Joe and, most surprisingly, the husband of Sucking-lemons Cynthia expressed a desire to see, if at all possible. It was asked in such a way that I don't think the poor man stood a hope of not giving them a tour so reluctantly agreed. The Dashing Major shot me a bit of a wary look and said that he would go along too. Well done that man - said Lord Marmaduke - wouldn't trust those two bounders in my cellar I can tell you. Obviously referring to Barrow-boy Bruce and Honest Joe who were disappearing out the door with the Dashing Major bringing up the rear.
Plastic Patty had ignored the teas and coffees laid out and had hit the gin and was hitting it hard. Ever-so-capable Evelyn had clocked this and was trying to engage her in conversation. All that did was serve to give Plastic Patty the opportunity voice her grievances under some pretence at a response to a polite remark and to make thinly veiled digs at Tangerine Tracey, who was still entertaining, and being entertained, by Pervy Percy.
Sucking-lemons Cynthia and Simpering Stella were boring the socks off the Right Reverend Rupert who looked as if he regretted not going on the tour of the cellar. Instead he had found a rather nice bottle of port and was making a valiant attempt at drinking the entire bottle himself.
Lady Marmaduke had selflessly engaged Chief Superintendent Eric (retired) in conversation about the wonders of rural life and how he might be finding it. He in turn started to lecture her on the criminal activities of country folk and how, in his view, it could be said to be 10 times worse than in the city. I won't repeat Lord Marmaduke's opinion on that as it was rather rude and not at all gentlemanly.
It is normally not the done thing to be invited to dinner and to leave shortly after the meal but with many of the invitees being required early in the morning for the overseeing and setting up of the fete it would have been perfectly understandable. But no-one was making any attempt to leave. Ever-so-capable Evelyn looked a little flustered by this as there had been no real expectation that people would remain on and so no thought given to the after dinner entertainment.
I'm not sure what she was thinking but when there was a temporary lull in the hubbub of conversation she announced that it might be fun to play a game of charades. Bloody madness - was the opinion of Lord Marmaduke - two of 'em are too half cut to remember their own names let alone play a bloody parlour game. Sucking-lemons Cynthia thought this was a great idea and therefore so did Simpering Stella. Tangerine Tracey cackled wildly and announced that she hadn't played charades since her gran died so she was definitely in. And therefore so was Pervy Percy. Lady Marmaduke looked a little concerned but acquiesced and therefore it was decided.
Ever-so-capable Evelyn tasked Chief Superintendent Eric (retired) with keeping score and having the final say on any disputed matters, and from goodness knows where she produced a box of cards. Each of the cards had a symbol on one side to indicate whether it was a play, book, TV show or film and then the actual name on the other side that people were supposed to mime.
Well. Plastic Patty had almost thrown herself into an armchair and within seconds had fallen asleep. Not a ladylike slumber but a mouth dribbling, grunting, and snoring kind of slumber. Just to make matters worse her legs were slightly akimbo and showing far too much of tomorrow's washing - in the view of Lord Marmaduke. Lady Marmaduke managed to find a throw and put it gently over Plastic Patty's knees so that at least was dealt with. Her beloved fiancée didn't seem at all concerned or interested and he seated himself some distance away on a settee with his new chum.
To be fair to Ever-so-capable Evelyn the game was actually quite fun and it was definitely a hit with the majority of the people in the room. So neither Lord Marmaduke nor myself were quite sure at what point the Right Reverend Rupert had left the room but he was definitely not there when someone thought to ask him to take a turn.
Pervy Percy and Tangerine Tracey offered to be the search party but I think at this point we were all a bit dubious of their intentions so they were told to stay in the drawing room with Ever-so-capable Evelyn and continue the game - no saying what they'd get up to left to their own devices - was Lord Marmaduke's opinion on the matter. Sucking-lemons Cynthia announced that she should go find him as after all he was her vicar - he's all our bloody vicar for what use he is - came Lord Marmaduke's retort but she ignored him. Chief Superintendent Eric (retired) firmly stated that Sucking-lemons Cynthia should not go alone and in his capacity as the only police officer present he should accompany her and off they went before anyone could stop them.
So that left 8 of us in the drawing room and if this had been an Agatha Christie novel that surely is too many left to alibi each other. Which of course it is. Even though one of the 8 was Plastic Patty and was still snoring soundly in the armchair. Anyway, I volunteered to go to the kitchens and see if there was any chance of more tea and coffee - and cake, that woman is bound to have cake in there - and so with my orders off I went.
There was no sign of anyone else moving around the house. Okay yes so I wouldn't be able to hear anyone in the cellar but I thought I might bump into Sucking-lemons Cynthia and Chief Superintendent Eric (retired) or at the very least hear them. But no. The house was extremely quiet and oddly so.
Jovial James had, as it turned out, just put the kettle on so was more than happy to oblige with tea and coffee. I loaded up a tray with some cake and biscuits and plates and he promised to follow on through with the drinks and fresh cups. I got as far as the hallway when I heard the most horrendous shriek. I was lucky not to drop the tray which I quickly deposited on the hallway table and tried to work out where the cry had come from but there was only deafening silence now. Nothing.
You know when something like that happens you convince yourself that you must have imagined it? Anyway that's what I did and so took up the tray again and took it into the drawing room. Not long after Jovial James came in, who hadn't heard anything (I asked him), and set about pouring warming drinks for everyone.
It must have been a good 10 minutes later that we all started when Sucking-lemons Cynthia's husband burst into the drawing room and asked someone to call an ambulance. There had been an accident. Well, sort of an accident, but we definitely needed to call an ambulance.
I think that is the most I've heard the man speak.
And I'll think I'll leave it there for now and fill you in on the rest later.
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