I asked why she had not come to me before this, and she explained that she wanted to show she could establish herself before doing so. She wanted to be close to me but not reliant on me and she also needed to see if I was still the man who was her Uncle Daud.
Our conversation was interrupted at that point by James Trubshaw who came to ask me who the pretty young thing was whom I was monopolising, and why was I not out there twisting arms for donations as I usually do.
I introduced them. "Your Highness, may I present James Trubshaw, The Deacon of the Cathedral, my friend and a very inquisitive and jealous man. James, may I present Princess Suki of Beritana, daughter of my friend the Sultan".
"Mr Trubshaw", said Suki, "you are mistaken I fear. Uncle Daud has just persuaded me to donate my evening’s fee to your cause". She gave me a ready wink as she spoke and James' eyes grew as she called me Uncle.
The second-half bell rang before James could speak. Suki and I drained our glasses and she joined me in my box. Tongues would likely wag, I knew, but as neither of us was interested in the rest of the performances we spent the rest of the time chatting quietly.
At a few minutes to eleven we drifted out. Suki made me promise not to reveal her secret just yet in the village. She had her own car and with a quick peck on the cheek we parted. Francis was there with the car and we enjoyed a smooth ride home. I'm afraid though that I must have missed much of what he said as my mind was still spinning with what had happened.
I apologised for any rudeness on my part as I got out of the car at home. I gave him a large tip in compensation and hoped he would forgive me. "Anytime you need me, My Lord", he said, passing me a card with his number. I guessed I was forgiven.
Lady Julia was in bed but still awake when I got in. I sat on the edge of her bed and asked how her evening had been.
"Very entertaining my dear", was the response. "All the usual fun and games of course. But, and you'll never believe this, we had a piece by three of the village girls. They came on looking as though they were wearing their mother's net curtains. They belly danced to music and it was absolutely enthralling. It seems they've been in training for a few weeks because it's part of an exercise regime and they just decided to perform for us at the last minute. But", she added, "you'll never guess who's been training them!"
I put my hand to my forehead in the manner of Limping Bert Bowler doing his mind reading act.
"Hmm", I said, "I think it's Eileen Dover".
Lady J's eyes opened wide and she said, "Now how on earth do you know that?"
Thursday, July 29, 2010
The Funeral
Last night I'd shrugged in answer to my wife's question and gone to bed.
This morning I woke with a smile, remembering and savouring the minor victory. However, I knew it couldn't last so I made the coffee without which Julia won't consider starting her day, took it through to her and sat on the edge of her bed.
My explanation of how I knew the belly dancing expert didn't take long, and I was thrown a look that said she knew I hadn't made a lucky guess. Her looks can speak volumes.
Of course there were questions to answer which took a little time, but I promised to make the necessary introductions, so they were soon settled.
I suggested calling Suki and inviting her over but Lady J dissuaded me on the grounds that Suki had enjoyed a late night and might not be ready for a 7.00 am phone call. I conceded that Julia might be right.
I was getting dressed at 8.00am when I heard the phone ring. I don't have an extension in my room and so hoped that someone else would answer. That someone was Grizelda who had just arrived. "It's for you Your Ladyship", I heard Grizelda shout. “It’s a Miss Dover".
I knew Julia had picked up the extension in her room as I could hear muffled sounds from her room. I finished buttoning my shirt and went through just in time to see her put the receiver down.
“That was your friend Suki”, she told me. "She's invited me to call for coffee and a chat, so you can do what you want this morning".
So, I'm not included I thought, partially grateful in a way, as I knew Lady J would be able to winkle out any problems Suki had far better without me.
I had a funeral to attend this afternoon in the village, so I thought I may as well spend my time this morning working on the garden, or rather the plans I have for its restoration.
Mellors and I had decided that it would be good to recreate the ha-ha, the sunken lawn and the maze at the front, though on a smaller scale than the original as there is so much less land. To offset that, the maze would be done in low growing bushes so as not to obscure the view to or from the house.
So I spent the morning drawing out a design based on the maze at Hampton Court.
It was getting on for lunchtime when Lady J returned. She looked relaxed and was in good humour so I knew all had gone well with the meeting.
“Suki is a lovely child", she told me as though I didn't know it already. “But, we still need to keep up the Eileen Dover pretence for a while until she's comfortable with the people around her".
I agreed and said I would say nothing to anyone but that Charles already knew her real identity.
“He won't say anything", said Lady J, "and anyway, he doesn't know she lives here does he?"
I agreed he wouldn't and he didn't.
As the sun was actually in sight this morning, Grizelda had laid us out a nice salad for lunch. We ate it while Lady J told me what a pleasant morning she'd had and how taken she was with Suki, who was not the least pretentious. She was delighted that Suki had chosen to live near us and Suki was delighted in turn to be told to think of Lady J as Aunt. I was just grateful the two of them had got along so well.
At a quarter to two I left Lady J preparing to visit the stables to see her 'boy'. I asked her to give Twinkle a pat and a carrot from me, and to be careful herself.
I walked to Upper Greenfield for the funeral. I had never actually met the person who had died. His name was Albert Newcome and he had been the brother of Freda Newcome who kept the town library. I know her fairly well but had been surprised nonetheless when she had asked my brother Wyn and I to be pallbearers for her brother. It seems he had grown up in Greenfield Bottom and had wanted to be buried here in the graveyard we share with Upper Greenfieldians.
Both Wyn and I had, of course, agreed to support her in this request. Accordingly Wyn, myself, Owain and Frank Rumpo were there at the ready when Mr Hatchett arrived with the hearse. For the sake of balance, Owain had decided that he at 6'3" and my brother at 6'4" should take the rear of the casket, while I at 5'11" and Frank Rumpo at 5'7" should take the front. There seemed nothing wrong with this at the time and we agreed. We picked up the coffin from the hearse and the procession started off.
The Rev Zvingler took the lead slowly swinging his censer before him. Next came Miss Newsome and a scattering of family and friends dabbing at their eyes with an assortment of paper tissues. Then came the coffin and behind came Mr Hatchett.
I don't know if you have ever carried a coffin but it's a complicated affair of shoulders, linked hands under the coffin and unused hands in support. It's also a finely balanced affair, and while Owain had been right to suggest we paired according to nearest sizes he had not taken gradient into account.
The path in our churchyard is very steep from the gate to the church and also from the church to the lower cemetery and the older plots. This meant that going down the path the coffin pointed downwards with our two tallest people at the back and the shortest at the front. And those of us at the front were at a disadvantage. I don't know whether the deceased was a short man but I do know that both Frank and I were starting to feel movement from above as we moved. I mentally dismissed the first stupid thought to occur to me that maybe we had a live person in the coffin, but as we moved further, the body moved rapidly from one end to the other, ours being the other. The sudden shift in weight caught Frank and me unawares and seemed to push the coffin forwards. We changed pace to k
eep up with it but that caused more consternation as our move started to pull it off the shoulders of Owain and Wyn.
Our forward surge had also put us amongst the mourners who parted like the Red Sea at our arrival, and also brought us to the back of the Rev Zvingler who must have heard our hurried steps. He spun round and viewing a coffin about to hit him in the head jumped off the path. Unfortunately, he tripped and fell. He started rolling down the hill until coming to a halt beside a gravestone.
Meanwhile, at our rear Mr Hatchett had managed to grab the missile and slow its forward momentum. Frank and I had reached a run at this time and almost shot out from under it.
However, with some effort we managed to slow and with as much dignity as we could muster, we edged ourselves backwards until we were back in position. Owain and Wyn did the same thing from their end.
We managed to reach the church safely, though by this time we led the mourners and the Rev Zvingler, who had just gingerly regained the path to get there in last position. It made me think of something biblical in my near hysteria - “those who are last shall be first", and I had to smother an insane desire to giggle.
We deposited the coffin on the bier that awaited it and took our places in church to await the service. The bells started up and I realised that Chimes and his sister Glory Binton were ringing a peal. Bell-ringers elbow must be OK I thought.
As the peal finished, the Rev. started his short service, which was followed by a hymn almost accompanied on the organ. Sally Simms seemed to prefer a quicker tempo than did the writer, and we finished singing almost a full minute after she finished playing.
Freda stood and gave a quick eulogy to her brother whose claim to fame in life seemed to be his generosity to the Turf Accountants Welfare Society, in other words he lost a lot of money to bookies.
Service over, the four pall bearers returned to the coffin, where I suggested that perhaps Frank and I took the rear this time. That move accepted, we left the church and carried the coffin down to where Fred Crumplow had dug a grave with the aid of a small mechanical digger parked nearby in plain sight. We reached the plot without incident and laid the coffin down beside the grave. Fred hung about by the digger ready to lower the coffin on ropes after the ceremony.
The Reverend Zvingler started the necessary words to speed Albert to his next life. I heard, "Man is born of woman", when I noticed the coffin start to move sideways. In the sunshine, Fred had thought not to add supports to the sides of the grave. All the recent rain had softened the ground and the side of the grave was crumbling.
I coughed loudly to alert Johan to the problem and he noticed the direction of my stare. He started reading faster. The faster he went the faster the coffin started to slide.
He reached "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust", and the inevitable happened. Into the grave the coffin went. With luck it landed perfectly and would save Fred a job later.
The Rev. Zvingler looked shell-shocked and came to the end of the service. We all looked at Freda to see her sides shaking and moved forward to comfort her.
She roared with laughter and we all heard her say, “Well, he always was an impatient beggar".
We repaired to the village pub, The Fursty Ferret, for a drink and the usual curly ham sandwiches and sausage rolls one finds at these events. I had a pint of the local bitter and piled a plate with curly food. I sat in the corner to eat and Johan joined me.
“Well, that was a near disaster", he said.
“You handled it all well", I replied, “especially after that fall you took".
"Thanks", said he, "I thought for a moment my time had come".
"Ha", I said, "I’ve never been to a funeral where it's buy one get one free before".
Wyn came over to join us to see why we were laughing. He joined in and said it reminded him of the time that he and I had taken two metal trays and used them as sledges down those self-same slopes. He said it might have been fun trying it on a coffin with four of us aboard.
After arranging to get together with Wyn and Blodwyn soon for lunch, I said my goodbyes and walked home. Mellors had left for the day, but I noted he had made a wonderful start at pegging out the pattern for the maze.
My back and hips were suffering because I hadn't been able to use my crutches this afternoon for the church, so I decided to have a relaxing bath.
I was just getting in when Lady J arrived home with her best friend Lydia (pronounced Lidyah dahling) from the stables. Julia came to tell me she wouldn't be long and left me to soak the aches away. The water was a wonderful cocoon and I must have dozed off. I was awoken by Julia coming to see if I wanted my back scrubbing before I got out.
"Wonderful", I said, and she proceeded to do so while telling me of her afternoon and that Lydia had come to ask some advice and was staying to dinner.
Reluctantly I got out of the bath. Julia went to arrange an extra place at the table and I went to get dressed. I chose a pair of cord trousers and a polo neck jumper as the meal wasn't formal, and went to join the girls. My timing was excellent as I'd just reached the dining room door when Grizelda rang the bell. I waited for the girls, gave Lydia a hug and went in for dinner. It was wonderful. A small pork loin joint, new potatoes, my favourite buttered cabbage and some garden peas. There was a beautiful gravy, and apple sauce for those who liked it. This was followed by a rhubarb crumble with cream for me and with ice cream for the girls.
I was officially in heaven.
After dinner we cleared the table, thanked Grizelda and sent her home. We retired to the lounge with coffee. We had no sooner sat down than Lydia started...
"David, I feah that Cahlton is having an affeyah. Can you tell me if yew know anything?"
"I know Carlton is devoted to you Lydia", I answered. “What has given you such an idea?"
“Well, he told me he was goin to the lie-brery yesterdeh, but a friend saw him in the jeweller’s. I arsked him if he'd been anyweah else but the lie-brery, and he said no".
"Well", said I, "that could be many things. Your friend may have been in error, or perhaps he was just dropping something off".
"No", she replied, “I found this in his jacket this moahning", at which she produced a box containing a beautiful string of pearls.
“I’m sure you're wrong", I told her, "but I'll have a word and see what I can find out".
Lydia left soon after that and Lady J and I settled down to read before bedtime. I was mid-chapter when I heard, “You know, David, Lydia is not your favourite person, yet I know you'll do your best for her. It will be fun being a private investigator won't it?"
I laughed, “I’m not Magnum P.I. yet, My Lady".
"By the way", she said, “I know you and Wyn were pallbearers this afternoon, how did it go?"
"It was a-pall-ing", I said laughing, and wished her good-night as I went to bed.
Friday, July 30, 2010
The Robbery
I knew that though I am no Magnum P.I., finding the truth about Carlton in a small community like ours would not be difficult. Had Lydia been thinking straight she would have seen it too.
Anyway, after the consumption of her usual gallon of coffee, I asked my wife to run me into town. As she said she'd heard the library had a new exhibition of local artists’ work, she agreed. Julia dropped me off at the bank to replenish my/our funds and we arranged to meet at Cass E Dees for lunch at 12.00 pm.
The cash machine at the bank was in agreeable mode today and spat out the notes I requested. I hobbled up the High St. in the direction of the jewellers, Trumpett and Daughter, though these days the daughter was called Dring and ran the business with her son Arnold.
I had just reached there when I noticed my shoelace had come undone. I knelt down to do it up just as the shop door opened, and rushing out came a hooded man who tripped over my bent figure. He went down like a hammer, fast and hard. I was pushed over too but was undamaged. He was obviously dazed and I stood and was about to offer profuse apologies when I heard, "Stop him, he's a thief!",
from the shop. He was still prone and lying on his front so I placed the tips of my crutches on each sleeve of his jacket preventing him from getting the leverage to rise.
Up the street ran PC 'Pies' Saddleworth, and out of the shop came Arnold. 'Pies' applied the handcuffs to our thief and picked up a bag I hadn't noticed from the pavement. He heard from Arnold that the man had held a gun at himself and his mother, instructed them to fill a bag with the best jewellery and watches, and had run. 'Pies' suggested Arnold got someone to look after his mother and then went to make a statement at the station. He asked if I would go too for the same reason.
Arnold thanked me profusely and I held up my hand to stop him. "A lucky accident, Arnold, nothing more", I said and entered the shop. Mrs. Dring was there looking rather pale and I suggested she sit down with a cup of very sweet tea. "I'm most grateful, Your Lordship", she said, "70 years of trading and this is the first time anyone has tried to rob us".
"I hope his being caught may stop anyone from trying for another 70 years", I told her. "Now Mrs. Dring", I asked, "Carlton Ponsonby-Smythe was in here yesterday." "Yes", she stopped me. "He collected the pearls he bought for his anniversary today", she said.
"Ah yes", I said, trying to give her no indication of my reason for asking. "He's very pleased with them. I wondered if you had a bracelet in a similar style I could buy Her Ladyship?"
My business there concluded satisfactorily, I headed down the street again to give my statement to the police. Shopkeepers were standing in doorways the length of the street and nodded greetings as I passed. I reached the station just as another PC was escorting another prisoner in handcuffs inside. It turned out he'd been found waiting anxiously in a car in the shopping centre car park ready to whisk my villain away.
My Barsetshire Diary (The Barsetshire Diaries Book 1) Page 7