“Yes, the whole event turned out to be rather disturbing, to say the least, for during the fracas even my darling Mildred sustained a serious bleeding nose. Didn’t you, my dear?”
“You mean to say that dear Poopy punched her?”
“Oh no, madam. Please understand it was that mindless, parasitical pop star who goes by the name of Freddie Fruitless. Yes, it’s quite amazing what passes for talent these days,” he said, giving a deep, all-knowing sigh. “Anyway, with the local and national press covering the event, it was nigh impossible to even begin to attempt to minimize the damage.”
“Oh, dear! Well, enough said. Anyway, Boritz, I have one most urgent thing left to settle before I head home, and this is to write a check in show of my support of your orphanage.”
“Oh, the check! Well, believe it or not, Lady Butterkist, I must confess to having completely forgotten all about that,” Boritz announced.
“Well, Boritz, if you could hold on to Tiddles just for a small moment, then this will not only free up my hands but give me the opportunity to search my purse for my checkbook and pen,” she said as she proceeded to unceremoniously dump Tiddles into his empty arms long before she had his verbal agreement.
“Ahh, I seem to have momentarily mislaid my pen,” she cried as she continued to rummage through her purse in pursuit of this important item.
“Oh, Lady Butterkist, please feel free to use mine,” he quickly said as he whisked a pen out of his top pocket.
“Why, thank you, Boritz, but I would hardly call that a pen, for it neither requires ink nor an ink cartridge,” she dismissively snorted. “Forgive me here, but I’m a bit of a puritan when it comes to placing my signature on any document, large or small, so I much prefer to use my own exclusive fountain pen when I write checks, or any written correspondence for that matter,” she said, as she finally brought out a very expensive-looking, jewel-encrusted fountain pen.
“Oh, Lady Butterkist, I gave up using fountain pens many moons ago, for I was thoroughly fed up and tired of them leaking and staining the inside pockets of some of my most expensive suits and blazers,” he freely admitted.
“Well, that really does come as a surprise, Boritz, for surely you always use a fountain pen when you are required by law to place your signature on the bottom of any legal document?”
“Well, yes, Lady Butterkist. You have indeed caught me out in a little white lie, for as you so rightly state, a proper ink pen is in these cases most advantageous, as the law does, as you so rightly state, suggest that all documents submitted must be signed in ink for the purposes of authenticity. But outside office use I, for one, much prefer to go with the modern invention of a Biro.”
“Well, I confess to having a total abhorrence of such things and so am indisposed to use any such vulgar, modern inventions,” she insisted, adding a little tut to complete her disapproval.
It took Lady Butterkist just a matter of minutes to write the check, and after popping her special fountain pen back in her purse, she stood up to hand Boritz the long-awaited and much-desired check, as well as retrieve her precious pup, who she could not help but notice looked decidedly uncomfortable in Boritz’s outstretched arms.
Boritz eagerly accepted the check, his eyes on stalks as he shuddered at the amount written on the check.
“Boritz, does this check meet with your approval?”
“Lady Butterkist, what more can I say other than ‘my cup runneth over,’ for this is so terribly kind and generous of you,” he stammered.
“Well, Boritz, I hope this money goes some way in alleviating the suffering of these unfortunate young children,” Lady Butterkist said as she continued most affectionately to stroke her pup.
“Oh, trust me when I say it most definitely will, your ladyship. It will.”
“Well, Giles, please drink up, for we urgently need to be on our way. I plan to visit again sometime in the future, although I have to add that at present I am not the slightest bit optimistic that this promise will be carried out during this next coming year, for out of the blue I have just made plans to do a bit of traveling abroad.”
“Oh, really? How wonderful, Lady Butterkist.”
“Yes, I’m rather hoping it will turn out to be a most exciting, if not thoroughly exhilarating, adventure,” she loudly exclaimed. “Firstly I propose to climb the Himalayan Mountains with a handsome young Ghurka at my side.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I was thrilled to bump into the darling little man while purchasing some foreign teas at Harrods, and needless to say, we hit it off instantly. Then my next intended stop is Russia to see my elder sister, who lives somewhere along the Baltic Coast, although I have to confess that at present I’m not entirely sure where on the coast she has parked herself. I then intend to take a long train ride down through Italy and only get off when I reach Tuscany, for can you believe that this is where one of my long-lost cousins has chosen to spend the rest of her days? So, I expect to be eating many olive oil–drenched sardine salads while breathing in the intoxicatingly heady smell of fresh lemons from the nearby groves. I’ll not leave Italy until I have paid a much-dreamed-of visit to Florence and Rome. From there I have been invited to stay at a kibbutz in Israel, and then finally when I have tired of everything else, I intend to join a group of hot-blooded, very sweaty Spaniards as we board a tourist bus bound for Puerto Banus in Spain,” she announced as she clasped her hands together to control both her delight as well prevent her imagination from running riot.
“Incredible.”
“Have you ever been to Puerto Banus, Boritz?”
“No, madam. I don’t believe I have.”
“Well, it was indeed a wonderful discovery when I first set eyes on the place. It has the most delightful bay filled to overcapacity with the most opulent sailing vessels imaginable. An old school chum of mine named Mrs. Georgia Ganglegoose has invited me to come join her on her extremely palatial craft, and then I believe we will set sail on the high seas in search of some new and exciting adventure. I do believe she has the West Indies in mind, and after that, well, who knows?
“Now, won’t that be a lot of fun? So at present I have absolutely no idea as to when I will next visit you good people, for I fully intend to let my wings take me wherever they wish to flutter and with whomever it feels right to be.”
“Oh, your ladyship, surely you are not only playing with me but also with fire, for it is most dangerous, if not completely irresponsible, for two perfectly vulnerable creatures to go to sea without a strong, capable man at the helm of their vessel.”
“Well, Boritz, I can see that there might be some cause for alarm at two women of a certain age jaunting around the globe on their ownsome lonesome, but as you can see, I am a fairly feisty woman. So if we get boarded by a gang of pirates of—how shall I say?—well, disrepute—”
“Madam, hear me out when I categorically state they are never otherwise,” he interjected, “for you will indeed be considered seriously lucky to find even one considerate gentleman amongst them. Oh, no, it is a well-known fact that fiendish pirates have not changed a bit from days gone by. And have you taken into consideration what you will do if you are taken captive on the high seas?”
“Captured? Oh, that does sound so very romantic,” she continued to tease.
“Well, there is every possibility that in the event of being captured, you might well be forced to walk the plank!”
“Oh, how exciting!” Lady Butterkist cried.
“I don’t understand, for exciting was not the first word that sprung to my mind.”
“As I was saying, Boritz, I am ready and willing to take on this, as well as any other challenge that is thrown my way, for it most surely is all part and parcel of having this rather late in life lusty penchant for travel,” she deliberately teased.
“Well, I can only hope you take my words of caution seriously,” he muttered.
“Thank you for your concern, but before I rush to leave, I must request a quiet wo
rd in Mildred’s ear.”
Mildred obliged and calmly walked over to her ladyship. A few words were then exchanged.
“Well, thank you for letting me know, Lady Butterkist. I will do all in my power to ensure such a thing never happens again. You can rest assured on this one,” Mildred bristled through tightly pursed lips.
“I would be most grateful if you would see to it that it doesn’t,” Lady Butterkist retorted. “Now, please show me to the door, for we do need to be on our way.”
“I’d be more than glad to,” a harassed Mildred meanly muttered.
As they headed toward the door, Polly called out her last good-bye. Lady Butterkist turned around just in time to catch her heading up the oak staircase and called out for Polly to come and see her off.
“Mildred, I do have one final request.”
“Yes, Lady B. What might that be?” Mildred attempted most sweetly to ask.
“Well, would you mind very much if I were to have a moment alone with Polly?”
“Oh, absolutely!” Mildred snorted. “I, for one, have need of getting my little ones to bed, and Boritz, well, he has a number of letters that he urgently needs to write. Don’t you, dearest?”
“Uh. Oh, yes, if you say so, dearest.”
“Well, thank you both once again for your wonderful hospitality, and hopefully I will be in touch sometime in the not-too-distant future,” she said, giving a warm, enduring smile.
“Oh, and do please send us a postcard or two,” Boritz ever-sopolitely pleaded.
“Yes, perhaps I will,” Lady Butterkist responded, very tongue in cheek.
She then waited patiently until she was sure that Polly’s guardians were well out of earshot. “Giles, be a dear. Hold on to Tiddles for me while you stand on guard,” she politely ordered.
“Very well, madam.”
“Polly dear, I have something on my person that I believe rightfully belongs to you.”
“I’m not too sure what you mean by that, Lady B.,” was Polly’s initial response.
Her ladyship placed her hand deep into her pocket.
“I am referring to this!”
“Oh goodness. My ring!”
“Yes, my dear, your ring. Now, I would strongly advise that you hide it away in that special place.”
“Special place?”
“Yes, dear. Now don’t pretend you don’t know where I’m suggesting.”
“No, Lady B. I have no idea of where you are thinking.”
“Why, in young Langdon’s belly, of course, yes, for the purpose of safety. And I have every reason to believe that your guardians will never think to look there.”
“Thank you Lady B., but as soon as Uncle discovers the ring is missing there will be all hell to pay until it is back in his possession,” Polly anxiously cried. “They will strip the place bare and punish us all until someone finally owns up. Yes, our lives would become even more unbearable so you had better take it back.”
“Polly, please do not get yourself in a tizzy. I promise you I have taken care of this for I have replaced the ring with something pretty similar, and that, young lady, is all that I’m prepared to say on the matter.”
“Oh, Lady B., tell me quickly, how on earth did you come to get it back?”
“Never you mind, dear, for until such a time as I am forced to stand in front of a judge and jury and confess, all I am prepared to say at this moment is ‘Finders keepers, losers weepers,’” she said, giving a most wicked smirk.
“Lady B., you are quite something. Truly you are,” Polly said as she reached over to give her one final, extremely overzealous Polly hug.
“Keep telling me, my dear. Keep telling me. Now, listen to me, Polly dear. Things will seem much better for a time, but mark my words, it won’t be for too long.”
“Yes, I realize that, for lepers don’t change their spots, do they?” Polly very glumly stated.
“There you again, Miss Malaprop, for it’s a leopard, not a leper, that never changes its spots,” she gently corrected. “Anyway, what I was about to say was, if you need to get a message to me, I would suggest you place it for safety in Langdon’s belly, and one way or another it will get to me. So promise me, Polly, even if others don’t recognize you to be a true princess, you can still act like one. Stay kind and charitable, and trust your conscience to guide you. Until such times as we meet again—and trust me when I say we will meet again—I will have you in my thoughts and prayers,” she said, giving Polly one final long hug. “Yes, the real trouble with you, Polly Brown, is that you are truly special.”
“And so are you,” Polly quipped.
“Oh, Polly, I have no trouble believing it about myself, but you, my dear, well, you still need to work on that one.”
“I hear you, Lady B. Giles, may I give you a hug and thank you for everything?”
Giles handed over Tiddles to Lady B. and then gave Polly a long, fatherly hug.
Polly then stood at the front door and waved until the car disappeared from sight.
“Madam, I have to admit to feeling quite teary-eyed and emotional at this moment,” Giles confessed.
“Oh, Giles, if that is the case, then I propose we stop on the motorway and have ourselves a nice, strong cup of tea.”
“Thank you, madam, that sounds like a very good idea.”
Meanwhile, back in his private study Boritz sat in an undeniable stupor with his eyes firmly fixed on the check lying on the desk in front of him.
Then there was a knock on the door, and Mildred quickly entered, holding their youngest child in her arms.
“Dearest, I have just brought Jeremy in for you to give a quick kiss good night.”
“Yes, yes, dear.”
“Hasn’t it been a long and very strange day?” Mildred casually commented.
“Yes, and my, what an eccentric old biddy she is!” he loudly muttered.
“She’s no more eccentric than you are, my dear,” Mildred quickly retorted.
“Hmm. Mildred, tell me now, precisely what did Lady Butterkist wish to say to you in private?”
“Well, apparently when Gailey returned Polly’s dress and shoes, they were virtually ruined.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the old battle-axe complained that the dress was badly torn, and the shoes were missing some of the sequin studs. As for the tiara, sad to say, she made sure that this too was completely destroyed.”
“Oh my goodness. How absolutely embarrassing!” he said, shaking his head in a show of utter disbelief.
“I should say so. We must make sure Gailey never resorts to this sort of ridiculous behavior again, or at least while the old crow is around.”
“Tell me, Mildred dearest, were you in any way able to appease her?”
“Well, as I did not wish to exacerbate the situation by defending dear Gailey, I was left with little choice other than to fully humble myself and give the old bat something of a meaningful apology. I also promised it would not happen again.”
“Well, for the time being, perhaps it would behoove us all to try and be nicer to Polly, although heaven knows just how difficult a task this might well turn out to be,” Boritz helpfully suggested, his eyes remaining firmly glued on the substantial figures written on the check in front of him.
“Yes, Mildred, my sweet pea, if we want to see more money in the coffers, we will have to find other, more preferable ways to discipline her.”
“I think you mean ‘more subtle’ ways. Don’t you, Boritz dear?”
“My sentiments exactly.”
“Sadly, you could be right on that one, Boritz dearest,” she very churlishly admitted, “although the girl is such a problem and headache, it will be difficult to find other, more suitable forms of punishment. Don’t you think?”
“Well, Mildred, my sweet pea, let us put all such headaches to one side as we joy and revel in this latest exceedingly charitable donation,” he brightly suggested.
“Yes, we’ll get Miss Scrimp to organiz
e the foster children and get them to bed early, and I’ll get our little brood ready for bed. Then it’s high time we celebrated. Here, Jeremy, say good night to daddy,” Mildred cooed as she placed their youngest child in front of him for a quick bedtime kiss and cuddle.
“Night night, sleepy byes coochy coo. Daddy loves you. Kissy kissy.”
The young toddler began to make pleasurable giggles and gurgles, which encouraged Boritz to continue on with the daft baby talk that, ridiculous as it may seem, all gooey-eyed parents cannot fail but act out.
Suddenly and without warning, tragedy struck. The young infant’s foot accidentally hit his father’s large glass of water. The glass tumbled over, and the water spilled out all over the desk, drenching everything in its path, the check included.
“Mildred, you stupid woman!” he screeched. “Here, take Jeremy, and then quickly get me a cloth, anything!” he roughly ordered.
A panicked Mildred, with the bouncy toddler in her arms, raced around the room desperately looking for anything that might soak up the water before all documents on his table suffered irretrievably from severe water damage. Sadly, she was not quick enough.
Boritz let out a death-defying scream as he watched the figures on the check disappear one by one, as the ink bled into the rest of the check. He was left feeling wildly impotent, for there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
“Mildred, how could you possibly let this happen?” he raged.
“Temper, temper!” Mildred angrily retorted.
Boritz ripped off his shirt and vest in his desperate attempt to mop up and thus salvage the check and save it from further water damage. These last-ditch attempts proved just as futile, for the more he attempted to dry the check, the more it smudged, causing the ink to rather sadly stain his expensive shirt as well as his vest. He then resorted to using some old blotting paper, but this too was of no use. This unbelievable and most unfortunate crisis continued on until the check was thoroughly beyond all redemption.
“I, for one, cannot believe this has happened,” Boritz woefully wailed as with the tips of his fingers he picked the soggy check up from the desk to wave it in the air. The soaking wet check immediately began to break off into little pieces. “Oh, this is so, so terrible,” he wailed and whimpered.
The Trouble with Polly Brown Page 68