“All right then, Boritz. I need to warn you that as well as my precious little pooch, who is at present being taken care of by my chauffeur, we have also brought along an extra young guest who goes by the name of Lucinda. I do hope this extra addition will not be too much of an inconvenience or problem to either you or your dear wife, for I will willingly forgo a buttered crumpet or two if there is now simply not enough to go ’round.”
“Nonsense, dear lady. You will do no such thing, for there is always plenty to go ’round at this castle. Please let me assure you now that any guest of yours is a most welcome addition to this party. Let us waste no further time, for you have already spent far too long aboard this incredibly stuffy coach, so please do as I say and follow after me.”
As they exited the coach Lady Butterkist handed a number of carrier bags to both Polly and Lucy, which she asked them to temporarily take care of for her. Boritz also stopped by the steps to inform the driver that at some point in the afternoon a cup of refreshing tea would be bought out to him.
“Oh, dear, sweet Boritz, let us not start the afternoon off by being so unscrupulously parsimonious,” Lady Butterkist gently remonstrated.
“Uh?”
“Well, surely we can do better than that.”
“Please don’t speak in riddles, for quite what do you mean by that last comment, Lady Butterkist?” Boritz asked very defensively.
“Well, would it not be considered a decent and most generous-hearted action on your part if you were to invite the poor man to join us all at the castle tea party?” she loudly declared as she stared him out in a manner not dissimilar to that of a beady-eyed bald eagle eager to swoop down on its prey. “For not only will he feel terribly sad and lonely left out here on his tod, but I submit that his parched throat is not his only problem. Oh, no, for throughout this lengthy journey his belly has persistently rumbled louder than a frenziedly, famished humpback whale heading off to feast at the annual family fish fiesta.”
“Uh!”
“So arguably I believe I am definite in my assumption that both tea and cakes would be most agreeable with this fine gentleman. Speak up, my good man. For isn’t this so?”
“Quite true, milady,” piped up the driver. “Firstly I apologize profusely for my disgracefully loud, gurgling guts. I had hoped that the cheese ’n pickle sarny you so kindly bought me might happily bring an abrupt end to my noisy and offensive digestive problems.”
“My good man, quite clearly it has not!” Lady Butterkist loudly commented.
“Well, ma’am, I think is true to say that a slice of cake or two would cheerfully put an end to this otherwise very embarrassing little problem,” he said, giving a sly wink followed by a seriously lopsided grin. “But first I need to sweep through this coach, for as you can plainly see for yourself, the floor of this coach has been overwhelmed by a blanket of mysterious white feathers. I can only think that in all the excitement one of the old dears accidentally burst a pillow she was using as a headrest,” he said, scratching his head in total bewilderment as he tried to fully appreciate the immense clearing-up task that lay ahead.
“Anyway, where was I? Ahh, yes. After the sweep-up I would very much appreciate a nice cuppa char, as well as a plate of whatever’s on the menu.”
“There, Boritz. What did I say?” Lady Butterkist interjected.
“Plus a bit of company would be much appreciated, if it were not too much trouble. It would, after all, be such a pleasure to be allowed to join in all the merriment.”
“Well, I do believe I’ve hit the nail right on the head, so let’s all agree now that once the dear man has swept up all these rather annoying and very suspect feathers, he should then be allowed to join us, for as the old saying goes, the more the merrier. Eh, Boritz?”
“Very well, dear lady. Have it your own way,” he reluctantly sighed.
Only Polly heard Lady Butterkist mutter under her breath, “I normally do, Boritz, as to your peril you, my good man, are only just about to discover!” Then she grabbed hold of both Polly’s and Lucinda’s available hands and began to stride purposefully toward the main door of the castle.
Chapter Thirty-Four
LET’S GET ON WITH THE SHOW
MINUTES LATER FOUND Lady Butterkist and the girls being directed into Boritz’s private sitting room.
“Lady Butterkist, how simply wonderful it is to finally meet with you,” Mildred warmly stated as she quickly got up from her seat to shake the good lady’s gloved hand. “We have heard so much about you, and now finally we are getting the privilege of meeting with you face-to-face,” Mildred sweetly said as she continued to gently shake Lady Butterkist’s gloved hand. “Now tell me truthfully, where is your devoted butler hiding? I was firmly led to believe that he too would be joining us.”
“Oh, he will be here before you can say, ‘Is there any mustard in this custard?’ for I am the reason behind his late arrival, as I ordered him to make a slight detour on my behalf, yes, to visit some very dear, wonderful friends of mine, the Montgomerys. I wonder, do you know of them? Of course, you probably don’t, as they only moved to this area recently.”
“No, I don’t think we do know them. I am right, Boritz, am I not?” Mildred queried in all sincerity.
“Well, they’ve only been in the area for, let’s say, two years at the most, and they have two truly delightful sons, William and Edmund. Anyway, I ordered Blenkinsopp to slip by their house bearing good tidings, as well as a small floral arrangement. Dear Mrs. Montgomery has become something of a close friend and confidante during these past months, and so I hope to drop by and have afternoon tea with her in the not-too-distant future.”
Polly’s mouth dropped open at this latest, wonderful revelation, for she could hardly believe her ears that dear Lady Butterkist not only knew Will but was also on familiar terms with the whole family.
Uncle Boritz suddenly began a lengthy bout of coughing and spluttering.
“Boritz dearest, are you all right? Would you care for a spot of water?” Mildred asked out of genuine concern.
“No, thank you, my dear. I shall be fine. It’s nothing more than a surprise little tickle that has rather disgracefully found its sorry little way to the back of my throat,” he coughed.
“Well, by now all the old folks will hopefully have found themselves a comfortable seat, and so they will certainly be waiting on us. Perhaps we should make haste and join them all in the baronial hall,” Mildred brightly suggested.
“That would be most wonderful, Mrs. Scumberry. But surely you too would like to welcome Polly home before we all sit down for this special tea?” Lady Butterkist rather poignantly suggested.
“Oh, my! What was I thinking?” Mildred stuttered, at the same time going distinctly beetroot in the face.
“Quite!” her ladyship quickly interjected.
“Hello, Polly. It’s so nice to see you,” she half-heartedly muttered as she then turned to head for the door. “Oh, and by the way, James is not very well, so sadly he will not be in today’s performance. At present he is holed up in the boys’ dormitory.”
“Oh no! He is going to be all right, isn’t he? I have so missed him. When can I see him?” Polly anxiously interrupted.
“Well, Polly, I will take you up to his room later on when I take his tea, as he is equally keen to see you,” Aunt Mildred sniffed.
“Can’t I just slip up to his room and see him, for I have not seen him for such a long time,” she desperately pleaded.
“I’m sorry, Polly, but the answer is a firm no. All our guests have been kept waiting long enough. As soon as the concert is over, I will personally see to it that you are taken up the boys’ dormitory. That’s a promise. Now, do as I say by leaving the subject well alone. There’s a good girl. Right, then. Everybody, it’s time for tea, so please follow after me.”
Lady Butterkist immediately took hold of Polly’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Somehow Polly felt that despite appearances Lady Butterkist really understo
od all that was going on.
On their way to the baronial hall, Aunt Mildred excitedly chatted away. “Lady Butterkist, we have worked extraordinarily hard to put together a rather delicious tea, and the children have also worked terribly hard at rehearsals, for they are very eager to put on a little show for your benefit, as well as the very delightful pensioners.”
“Mrs. Scumberry, it all sounds positively wonderful to me,” Lady Butterkist keenly replied.
“Yes, well, when you think that they all struggle with fairly severe emotional impediments, as well as very troublesome learning disabilities, then it makes their efforts all the more amazing, for when it comes to putting on a little show, somehow and against all odds they have managed to excel. Yes, we have some imaginative little dancers amongst them, as well as some delightful singers. And a couple of the boys have great potential if in the future they should ever wish to become magicians. So as soon as the tea is over, then the children’s performance will begin.
“Polly, would you like to join with the others and be a part of today’s performance? You always sang so well in the past,” Mildred cared to comment.
Polly gave her answer by shaking her head from side to side to give a decisive no.
“Oh, please cooperate and change your mind. There’s a dear. For I’m certain it would give Lady Butterkist much pleasure, for you sound so much like a nightingale on a sweet and warm April night,” Mildred continued to urge.
Still Polly adamantly refused to agree to the request.
“Why ever not, Polly dear? I, for one, would dearly love to hear you sing,” Lady Butterkist gently coaxed.
“Yes, Uncle Boritz thinks your choice of song should be ‘Without Your Help I’m All Alone in This World,’ for you sing that song so beautifully. So please, for all our sakes, tell us that you will,” Aunt Mildred pleaded.
Eventually, and not because of the pressure put on her by Aunt Mildred but for the sake of Lady Butterkist, Polly finally agreed, albeit very reluctantly.
“That’s wonderful news, Polly. So hurry off to go find the other children, and they will help you find a costume from the dressing-up box,” Mildred breezily suggested. “As we speak, they are all in the back room rummaging through the dressing-up trunk, so it would be advisable if you were to hurry up, or there might not be much left in the way of costumes.”
Lady Butterkist once again spoke up. “I know it is not my place to interfere, but…”
“Dead right it isn’t your place to speak out,” an acid-tongued Mildred accidentally blurted out. She then quickly covered her mouth to prevent any further insults from spewing forth, for she knew to say anything further might well have very damaging financial repercussions.
She was grateful that Lady Butterkist chose to ignore her very disgraceful behavior as she continued on. “As I was saying, might I suggest that Polly be allowed to stay and share a table with my party? I am also waiting on my little coach butler, who will hopefully turn up any time now, along with my precious pooch.”
“Oh, dear. Lady Butterkist, forgive me, but alas, I’m not too sure that this would be a good idea. I mean, if—”
Much to Mildred’s utter annoyance, Lady Butterkist did not allow her to finish her sentence before rather rudely chipping in. “Mrs. Scumberry, may I remind you that Polly has spent an awfully long time on the coach, and so, like us all, she is ravenously hungry. Once she has eaten, she can then quickly disappear to join the others in the back room.”
“Very well then, Lady Butterkist. Polly can stay a while with her good friend, but you’ll need to keep a sturdy eye on her table manners—or lack of them,” she quietly mumbled under her breath.
Mildred turned to anxiously head over toward another table, for she was once more struggling to hold back her fury at being overruled— and by a mere guest at a special function that she was throwing—but she knew better than to show it.
“Who does she think she is, bloomin’ Lady Muck from O’Dirt Castle,” she quietly but angrily fumed. As she walked away, she heard the lady calling after her, so she put on a bright face before turning ’round to head back to her table.
“Lady Butterkist, I believe you called?”
“Mrs. Scumberry, before you leave again and while I think of it, a good friend of mine has baked a rather large number of very delicious appletude, I mean, apple pies, and she was most insistent that all the children be given the opportunity to try a little piece. I would like to submit the idea of introducing myself to the children and allowing them a taste of this fine apple pie. Naturally, this would all take place after the show.”
“Well, if I’m to be honest, I’m not too sure about that. Most of the children very quickly become undisciplined, and at any given opportunity they are liable to become disgracefully greedy. So perhaps you could allow me to store the pies for another, more suitable occasion.”
“Mildred—may I call you Mildred?”
“Oh, please do, Lady Butterkist.”
“Well, Mildred, these apple pies have been specially baked with the children in mind. I am sure that if we were to confine each child to just a small slither of the pie, I don’t think it could do them too much harm. So what do you say?”
Mildred, in trembling high-pitched tones, responded, as she unhappily found herself yet again being forced to comply with the good lady’s perfectly unreasonable request.
“Well then, Mildred, that’s settled. Now then, Polly, do please come and take a seat betwixt Lucinda and myself while we wait for that little slowcoach Giles to appear. There’s a dear,” she said, gently patting the chair to indicate that this was the particular chair she wished Polly to park herself down on.
“Oh, and Mildred dear, one small but final request.”
“Yes, Lady Butterkist. What more can I do for you?” Mildred asked, trying with all her might to restrain herself.
“Well, I would be most appreciative if you could get me a small bowl of water for little Tiddles, for it is certain that by the time she arrives here she will undoubtedly be in dire need of liquid refreshment.”
“I will see to it. And is there anything else that her ladyship could possibly require before I leave to serve all my other equally hungry and thirsty guests?” Mildred asked through gritted teeth.
“No, Mildred dear, but thank you for asking. I think that will be all, at least for the present.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
BEAUTY IS IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER
THE TEA PARTY was truly superb. Mildred had gone to much trouble to make sure that only the finest delicacies were served. The baked ham and asparagus quiche was mouthwateringly decadent, and the scones and preserves were utterly outstanding. The champagne sorbet reached new heights in terms of tasting simply divine, and the melt-in-the-mouth Victoria sponge cake had all the guests in pure ecstasy, for it was indeed the lightest and fluffiest cake they had demolished in many a year.
And to top it all, Lady Butterkist watched on with both astonishment and amusement as a subservient, gushing Boritz willingly rushed from table to table refilling empty tea cups with more English breakfast tea than most of the old dears could possibly handle. All too soon there was a seriously long line of impatient old folks holding on as best they could as they waited in desperation for the little room to once more become available.
“Lady Butterkist, was my homemade Victoria sponge cake to your liking? For I’ll have you know that even the raspberry jam filling was made by my own fair hands,” Mildred gushed. “Yes, the raspberries came straight from our private garden and were handpicked by myself,” Mildred informed Lady Butterkist, as ingratiating herself further she without asking went on to pour more tea into the good lady’s half-drained teacup.
Lady Butterkist quickly placed her hand over the cup. “Oh, my dear Mildred, sadly I must refuse all further refreshments, for as I have not been blessed with the retentive capabilities of a desert camel, I fear if I were to drink any more tea, it would indeed be most unwise of me.”
“Oh, Mildred, how sweet of you to ask, for I have to admit that as soon as that heavenly sponge cake came directly in contact with the sensors on my tongue, I could clearly hear the sound of angels singing the “Hallelujah Chorus” from Handel’s Messiah, for in a nutshell it was all superbly divine. Yes, it was indeed utterly spondelicious,” she said, closing her eyes to reflect on all she had eaten as she continued on with her most charitable appraisal.
“Thank you so much, Lady Butterkist. You are so very kind,” Mildred delightedly gasped.
Giles, who had finally turned up halfway through the tea, quickly turned to whisper in her ladyship’s free ear. “Madam, forgive me for mentioning this, but put bluntly, I believe spondelicious not to be a genuine word.”
“Well, Giles, I beg to differ, but at the end of the day, what does it matter? Mildred is so full of herself, she has failed to even notice. Now then, Polly dear, have you eaten your fill?”
“Yes, in fact, if I’m honest, I’m feeling more than a little bloated,” Polly dared admit.
“Then, dearest, perhaps it would be considered wise if you were to stop eating and go and get yourself ready for the upcoming show.”
A very nervous and unsure Polly got up from her seat, and after excusing herself, she quickly disappeared from the hall. Lady Butter-kist paused for a few moments, and when she thought no one was looking, she picked up a few of her shopping bags and then discreetly got up from her seat to follow after Polly, her main intention being to see firsthand how Polly’s arrival back at the castle would affect all the other children.
She felt like a stalker as she trailed behind the young girl, but all too soon it became apparent as to why Polly was as fearful as she was.
“Hey, everybody. Guess what? The fruit- and nutcase is back from the funny farm,” Gailey Gobbstopper shouted.
The Trouble with Polly Brown Page 57