Dear Lumpy
Page 2
1970
The Sunday Times
16 May
Dear Miss Mingy,
I am relieved to hear you have passed (by a very narrow margin) into Tudor Hall School for pert young ladies but doubt if I shall be able to pay the bills so you may not be there long. I hope you behaved well during your visit to the Blackers and did not pinch the spoons and were not sick on the drawing-room carpet. I always think Miss C. Blacker is very pretty and attractive. We had a nice visit to Colonel and Mrs Nickalls apart from getting lost on the way. Moppet has killed a large mole and Cringer has made a series of large pools – almost lakes – in the kitchen. I have heard nothing of Lupin but your sister jabbers away incessantly and does not seem to know whether it is Christmas or Easter. The Head Mistress at Tudor Hall is exceptionally strict and has the reputation of being the most relentless flogger in the business today. So just watch it and mind your manners! I enclose a small present. Don’t just buy milk chocolate or you will soon have the same waistline as the oldest and greediest elephant at Billy Smart’s Circus.
Best love,
D
At thirteen my whole class at Daneshill moved on to other schools. My parents chose Tudor Hall for me on the advice of my brother Lupin! Not exactly the world expert on premier girls’ schools.
Budds Farm
Dear Louise,
You really are the limit. I opened my box of saccharine tablets this morning and there was a dead cockroach there. I think that was a joke on your part in quite exceptionally bad taste. This time, in fact, you have pushed your luck just a bit too far. I intend to stop your pocket money till 1975 and to engage a holiday governess, Miss Beatrice Birchenough, who has been working in a reform school for difficult girls and knows just how to deal with really hard cases. I may try a few reprisals myself, so don’t be surprised if you find a very old cod’s head neatly sewn up in your pillow one night. I have in the meantime written a stiff note to Miss Vallance suggesting that you and the members of your dormitory are completely out of hand and a dangerous threat to their ever-loving parents. The workmen have just finished doing the drive. They came in for a cup of tea and have left tar all over the kitchen floor. I fear your dear mother may explode when she discovers. I believe you are coming home for a long weekend. I challenge you to a croquet match for 5/. You are allowed a start of two up but just for once you must forbear from cheating. By the way, thanks awfully for your outstanding generosity in offering me one of those chocolates I bought for you. I found a huge toad in the woodshed today and intend to adopt him as he is very friendly and from a certain angle reminds me slightly of your plump sister Jane. I shall feed him on a diet of bread and milk and dead flies. Tomorrow I have to go to your Great-aunt Margery’s funeral. She was 84 and had been like a hard-boiled egg for years.
Best of love and do try and keep out of trouble if you can otherwise I can see you ending up in Borstal rather than at Tudor Hall.
D xx
I get an enormous amount of pleasure from playing practical jokes on my family. I have been known to put fish heads in my sister’s makeup bag and paint skulls in luminous paint on the walls of the spare room when my brother-in-law is staying.
Budds Farm
Sunday
My Dearest Louise,
I trust you are now well prepared for your confirmation and have adjusted your plump face to a very holy expression. Please keep it like that till after the service, during which you are forbidden to suck sweets or chew gum. Will you be dressed in white, a colour signifying, rather absurdly in certain cases which I will not mention, innocence and purity? Do you have to wear a white hat, and will it be composed of hen feathers or half an old tablecloth? As I shall be the most pure and innocent person there, I propose to come in a white suit. However, enough of that. We must all be very solemn and listen with the closest attention to what the Bishop says; I am sure it will be very good for us. It is a very long time since I was confirmed at Eton. I put on a clean collar and a lot of Anzora Hair Cream (IT MASTERS THE HAIR, so it said on the bottle) which made my hair stiff like cardboard. It was most unfortunate that the Bishop quite forgot to turn up and we were in Chapel for nearly two hours before a substitute could be obtained. Luckily none of my god-parents were there, but my mother was. She was not a great church-goer and got very restive during the long wait. Fortunately I had brought a book in with me as over 100 boys were being confirmed and I knew it would be a very long service indeed even if everything went well.
However, to be more serious for a moment, I am sure it is all ‘a good thing’ and if you think hard about it just occasionally you may see the point of it all and derive some benefit. I’m sure your mother still does, and perhaps most of us do during times of stress and difficulty. However, one’s religion is a very personal matter and it is all really up to you. I rather envy those who have a settled religious faith; it gives them a feeling of security.
I hope you realise it is a strict rule that no sweets are eaten for 17 days after confirmation and it is the custom to hand over all pocket money to the poor of the parish. To save you the trouble, I have already done that on your behalf. At least I would have done had there been any poor in the parish, but there are not. After the expenses of Jane’s wedding, I reckon I am poorer than most so I am retaining the money for myself. I’m sure you will agree that this was the right and proper course.
That revolting Moppet left a rabbit’s head under the dining room table; it was found by Pongo who made short work of it, to the great disgust of your mother. We are going to have quite a lot of strawberries and raspberries; what a pity they upset your stomach so and you are unable to eat them. I really feel sorry for you. However, I will see your mother makes you some nice junket or tapioca pudding instead.
Thank goodness we have a quiet day here today. I feel very exhausted. On Tuesday I leave at 5 a.m. and motor up to Newmarket. I come back early on Wednesday as I may have to go to a funeral at Rotherwick in the afternoon before I move on to you.
Your affectionate father,
RM
From an early age the relationship I have with my father is very affectionate. Although confirmation is a serious occasion I revel in being mobbed up by him and I am more likely to heed serious advice when accompanied by witty stories and leg pulling.
1971
Budds Farm
23 June
My Dear Lumpy,
I think that card from you and Sandra was amazingly cheeky and I intend to take steps when next we meet to extract a grovelling apology. So just watch it, you two. I will have you howling for mercy in a very short time indeed. I don’t think Sandra will be able to run very fast in those very tight jeans she wears; also she eats so much that her speed has been greatly reduced. As for you, I warn you. I found a dead rat on the rubbish heap in the garden; it is now in your room and it is up to you to find it. The smell and the fleas may offer some valuable clues. I hope you are doing extremely well in your examinations. A man in Basingstoke kept his daughter in a damp cellar on bread and water for a month after she had failed in her O levels; that is nothing to what I shall do to you if you fail to get a brilliant report. Jenny has got hay fever and Cringer has worms. The strawberries are rotting because of all the rain. Far too many people are coming to Jane’s wedding and most of them I have never even heard of. I am barring men with beards and women with bare feet and dirty toenails. I hope you will not drink too much champagne as I don’t want to see you rolling about on the carpet in your best suit. I am trying to get Lupin to wash his neck for the occasion.
Best love,
D
I am oblivious to the fraught lead up to my older sister Jane’s wedding. Lupin left the Coldstream Guards just before being commissioned, which went down like a lead balloon across the family, especially with Uncle Whiskers (aka General Sir Kenneth Darling commander-in-chief of Allied Forces Northern Europe).
Budds Farm
Dearest L,
I am sorry not to have heard
from you since you went back. Perhaps though you wrote to Nidnod and she forgot to show me the letter. We set off to France on the 29th. The weather forecast was ‘very stormy indeed’ and the car ferries were running hours late. I did not much like the prospect as those old ferry boats roll hideously. We got to Dover and nearly got on the wrong boat by mistake. Eventually we drove on to a dreadful, creaking old boat; there was only one other car on it. We had a cabin, fell fast asleep and did not wake up till we arrived at Dunkirk at 4 a.m. We then had a long drive in appalling rainstorms to Chantilly, stopping for breakfast at a small service station where the food was far less nasty than at similar places in England. We arrived at Chantilly very weary at 8.30 a.m. and found to our horror that our hotel, usually empty at this time of the year, was full on account of May 1st being a Public Holiday. We were eventually given a room in a small inn where they were clearing up after an all-night wedding party. Your mother retired to bed (the sheets bore both hand and foot prints of previous occupants, while my pillow had clearly been used by a large and very hairy dog with dirty paws) with a hot water bottle. An hour later Nidnod woke up to find the bottle had leaked and the bed was soaking. She was certain that the hotel proprietor would think she had wetted her bed so we turned the mattress. What we found on the other side I simply cannot tell you. However we re-made the bed more or less successfully. In the meantime I had shaved but could not make the water disappear. Investigation revealed that the previous occupant had been sick in the basin and had blocked the drain! Thanks very much. We then set off for the races at Longchamp in warm, sunny weather. We got lost in Paris, Nidnod was almost in hysterics and I was terrified by the French drivers who have no manners at all. We got there in the end and met the Hislops, who gave us a wonderful and most expensive lunch in a superb restaurant on top of the grandstand. We saw Mill Reef win and then returned to Chantilly, Nidnod at the wheel. She nearly went broadsideon into a French car and death was very close indeed at that moment. She then got hopelessly lost trying to find the Ring Road and we drove for hours round Paris without making any headway. We were both exhausted by then and it would have been a relief if we had been mown down by a giant lorry. However we at last got back and had a very good dinner to cheer us up. The following morning I had to see some of the best horses in France at Chantilly, which I enjoyed, and we then drove some 170 miles to Deauville where we had a restful night in a comfortable hotel. The next day I had to visit a stud and then we had a marvellous lunch at a small restaurant at Bonneville-sur-Mer. Your mother ordered a king-size dish of lobsters, crabs, mussels, clams, prawns etc and I was not all that surprised when she had a bad attack of diarrhoea (not an easy word to spell) afterwards. We then drove to Clecy and were given a very warm welcome at the little hotel we go to there. The weather was perfect the next day and we went up on the hills which are covered with wild flowers of every sort. We had a superb lunch out of doors by the side of a river with your godmother Diana Gunn and her boozy but affable husband. We did not finish lunch till 4.30 p.m. We went off to visit a local museum and chateau and both your dear mother and Diana got the giggles very badly and I felt very ashamed as the rather spotty French lady showing us round was clearly getting rather annoyed. I don’t suppose your mother’s conduct had anything to do with the large amount of wine consumed at lunch. The Gunns had dinner at our hotel and then departed for Caen, Mr Gunn by then talking a great deal of fairly incoherent nonsense. On the Thursday we drove to Cherbourg, having a picnic observed with interest by children from an orphanage and three porky-fat priests. The boat was almost empty but Nidnod found some friends and was able to have a non-stop talk for a couple of hours. We landed at Southampton at 9.30 p.m. and were home an hour later. Cringer was insane with delight to see us back. Your brother is home looking clean (comparatively) healthy and happy. We had drinks (a good many) with the Bomers last night and today James Staples is here for lunch in a new suit and accompanied by a girl-friend, small and shy, who is Lupin’s housekeeper, a very odd arrangement.
Best love,
D
A classic Mortimer holiday. My mother made ‘bosom friends’ with the most random people who would run for the hills when they saw her coming. My father enjoyed recounting strange anecdotes loosely based on his observations.
Budds Farm
Dearest L,
I hope you are in robust health and that you are satisfying Miss Birchnettle (or whatever your Head Mistress is called). Your sister Jane is back from Greece and moves up to Yorkshire at the end of this week. I believe your fond mother is going to drive her up. Jane is shortly due to take her driving test which ought to give at least one hearty laugh to all concerned. Your erratic brother Lupin is down here for one night. Alas, your ever-loving mother is in one of her little moods and has never stopped nagging him and giving him totally unwanted and very ridiculous advice. The ponies seem to be well; Pongo has a nasty little itch and Cringer’s breath would drive a car. Moppet has killed many sleepy mice. I was very lame one day and had to take some disgusting pills which made me feel sick. Caroline Blackwell stayed here for a night and the Bomers and Parkinsons came to Dinner. Your mother talked without ceasing and no one else got a word in. Your mother starts her bridge lessons on Monday. I shall be mildly sur prised if she keeps them up. We had dinner last night at that pub in Overton where I once took you. Do you still like your new dormitory? I trust you are kind to the unfortunate new girl!
Best love,
D
The unfortunate new girl, Kate Evans, becomes my best friend and with no family in England she is welcomed with open arms by both my parents as a surrogate daughter.
The Sunday Times
30 September
Dearest Lumpy,
Thank you for your letter. You seem to be having some curious adventures. I hope you are doing some work and that you are approaching your examinations in a spirit of well-justified confidence. I have been at Newmarket for most of the week. Mrs Hambro arrived at Cousin Tom’s house in a new sports Mercedes that would have turned your barmy brother Lupin green with envy. My friend Mr Barling was kicked in the back by a yearling at the Sales and is in hospital with severe injuries. Cringer was very pleased to see me when I got home; Pongo and your dear mother rather less so. Your mother has been in Yorkshire assisting your sister Jane to move house. The new woman at the cottage, whose name eludes me, seems pretty scatty. As regards your holiday skiing; yes, you can go provided I approve of the expense involved (you have so far afforded me no information on that fairly important point). Also I wish to know with whom you are going and who is in charge of the party. I do not want a lot of giggling girls on their own making sheep’s eyes at the handsome instructors. You and Charlotte together would constitute a threat to decorum and commonsense. An elderly lady I know has just had all her jewellery swiped by a burglar, including a string of pearls about twice the length of a bicycle chain. There is to be a ‘Sunday Times’ exhibition at the National Gallery from Oct 22 for 6 months. Some of my books will be on view which ought to attract visitors in their thousands. I hope you will attend the exhibition in a suitably respectful frame of mind.
Best love,
D
I have started at Tudor Hall but my old school friends from Daneshill are planning a skiing trip.
As my father predicted we did not behave with due decorum. On the train home I became seriously ill and the second we arrived in England I was rushed into hospital with acute appendicitis.
1972
Budds Farm
12 February
Dearest L,
Are you really coming home next week? I’m glad you have warned me in time. I will put everything of value in the bank, nail down the carpets, and go off to Brighton for three days. I will leave a couple of tins of Kitticat for you to share with Moppet. Mind you divide them up fairly and don’t pinch the bigger helping. Your mother is hunting today and I trust that for once she will avoid a painful accident. I nearly ran over a fox on the M4 last night.
Cringer is in great form and is becoming more cunning than ever. Farmer Lucks is going to retire, so he says, at the end of the year and build himself a bungalow. Mr Hicks’s old father died suddenly when drinking a cup of tea last Wednesday. He was over 80. A man shot a policeman in Newbury last Friday but luckily did not kill him. I went to a dinner party in London given by Schweppes and consumed about a ton of caviar. I have got three parties in London next week. I have no news of your sister Jane but I believe Paul is off to Liverpool for a fortnight. I saw Aunt Pam yesterday wearing a really hideous magenta hat. She really does get hold of some very peculiar clothes. I think she must go round all the local jumble sales.
Best love,
D
The appalling dress sense of Aunt Pam (aka The Hamburger) was only slightly better than that of my father.
Budds Farm
26 February
Dearest L,
I hope you got back safely and have settled down to hard work and good behaviour! Your plump sister Jane and your skinny brother Lupin are due down here today. Your ever-loving mother is hunting and I, as usual, am working. I have given your mother a record player for her birthday. I hope you see my photograph in Horse and Hound this week as I’m sure you will agree I am far better-looking than the picture, taken just after the completion of a heavy lunch, suggests. Pongo is very smelly today so I am banishing him out of doors for a breath of fresh air. On Thursday I am off to a champagne and oysters party in the morning and then to a big lunch party at the Savoy afterwards. I wish you were coming with me. Or do I? I am hoping to get a new car in June, a BMW. What colour do you think would be agreeable? I fancy the fashionable dog-sick yellow or a bright, vivid red like Cross and Blackwell’s tomato soup. If you leave sweet papers lying about in my new car, I shall be reluctantly compelled to request you to ride in the boot.