Bunty Takes Sanctuary at the Manor

BACK TO SCHOOL

The run down to Kent wasn’t as bad as I’d been dreading. Tunbridge Wells is a pretty place and I bought Arraminta lunch in a café in the Pantiles before I dropped her off at St Audrey’s. She was quite chatty for once and didn’t moan one little bit when I reminded her to buckle down to her studies this term. I assumed she wanted something.

We talked about her having ‘a season’ this year but she is adamant that she’d rather die.

   ‘Honestly, Ma. Nobody does that anymore. But…’

   I knew something was coming.

   ‘…some of the girls are going back packing in Nepal with a group called YOUTH ACTION. It’s a much better way to spend the year…’

   I was about to point out that she was already having one ‘gap year’ doing her resits, when I thought better of it. No need to break the mood. 

   ‘…and they help build schools or something and are a very worthy cause,’ she said, ‘and I’ve pretty much promised to go too…and I can’t let them down now…and we’ll do fund raising…and Snubby’s father is paying because he says he doesn’t want her spending her revision time outside the pub rattling a tin… and you could do the same, because you want me to have good results too, don’t you?’

   Golly. That was the longest speech I’d had from her since her fifteenth birthday, and barely a breath taken. I’ve never seen Arraminta as a builder, quite the opposite in fact, but she did seem very keen, so and I promised to think about it.
   ‘I don’t see what there is to think about. Granny T thinks it’s a fab idea.’ 
    Hmm. I’d have a word with my mother-in-law later. Arraminta rolled her eyes. I could sense a sulk coming on. 
   ‘Let’s see what Daddy says.’
   Did I see her air punch her fist and whisper Yes!
   Crichton’s such a softy. She winds him around all his fingers, never mind the little one.

Matron was less than pleased that we had returned with only two nightdresses. Sometimes I think my daughter does it deliberately. I know it’s an old T-shirt and yesterday’s pants when she’s at home, but there are rules at school and she knows it. I promised to send three more in the week. 

Arraminta’s conversation had dried to a desert by this time so I gave her a peck on the cheek and left her with her friends. She didn’t give me a backward glance. ’Twas ever thus. Jerome was always a clinger, but not Arraminta. Even at Kindergarten she couldn’t get through the door fast enough.

The roads were clear, and I was back in Much Bickering in time for a quick bowl of soup before dashing over to Paula’s for the first Events Committee meeting of the new year. I said we were going to have to come up with something more sophisticated than Line Dancing or a Beetle Drive this time, if we are ever to get the lavatory extension built. That stumped everyone. 
   ‘A jumble sale?’ tried Ethel. So imaginative. :-(
   ‘Coffee mornings are always popular,’ said Gill.
   ‘Cheese and wine?’
   ‘Fancy hat competition?’
   They weren’t really getting the idea. So I suggested a Valentine’s Supper, just for a change of direction. I didn’t think they’d actually go for it, but they jumped on the idea like a drowning man with a teak spar.

It’s an awful lot of work to produce a proper three course meal for everyone but despite that, the idea was carried unanimously. The menu was discussed.

   ‘I could do melon balls,’ said Ethel. 

   That was a shock. Do people still eat those vile things? 

   ‘You can buy them ready scooped in Superfine ’ she continued, I’ve got some in my freezer if anyone wants to try them…’

   I tried to be tactful, but Joyce got in first with a very firm ‘NO!’ It was more of a strangled yell really, but Ethel got the point. 

   ‘What do you think Cynthia? You always serve such delicious dinners. Nothing too expensive though.’ 

   Rather buoyed up by the enthusiasm of my fellow fund raisers, I foolishly volunteered chicken liver pate, lamb shanks and strawberry cheese cake. ‘We could do all the prep at the Manor,’ I said and regretted it at once. It's a simple enough menu for seventy but I'm concerned Cook won't cope with the numbers. On the other hand, she’s never failed me yet. We could always have a salad for the family lunch that day to give her a bit more time. 

Cook looked the tiniest tad annoyed when I told her.

   ‘Salad is as salad does, Madam,’ she said with a sniff and went back to polishing her bavarois tins.

I never did have time to find out what she meant, because Crichton and Jerome came back at this point, all rosy cheeks and muddy boots, with a brace of pheasants apiece. 

They’d had a marvellous time out at Gottknowe Hall.

Jerome had taken a towering left and right on the King John drive and there had been much back slapping, passing of hip flasks and paternal pride. 

   ‘Then, poor Pa got his boots stuck in some fiendishly deep mud and fell flat on his face,’ said Jerome. ‘And good old Trenton had to drag him out.’

   He certainly did look muddier than usual.

   ‘Yes, and you weren’t a lot of help weren’t you? ' retorted my beloved. 'Laughing yourself silly with Inky and the others. At least somebody is loyal eh?’

 Trenton wagged his muddy tail against the Aga door, leaving a smear of proof.

   ‘And how were Inky and the others?’ I asked, ‘Did they all have good Christmases?’ You have to ask these questions even if you already know the answers.

   ‘Oh, all fine. Sally sends her love and says when are you coming out to join us?’ said Crichton.

   ‘And Podge said you should bring Brexit too,’ chimed in Jerome. ‘They’re all dying to see how he’ll perform in the field. Bunty said he'd be down the first hole he found, and we’d never get him back.'

    Crichton seemed a mite to keen on that idea. I reminded them that The Sausage is a badger hound and not to be mocked. Brett looked up at his master with distain and commenced scrabbling behind the freezer for a lost biscuit.

   ‘Well I’m glad you’ve both had a lovely day. I think Brexit and I might very well take up the offer. We’ll see. Now I hate to mention it but, have you made an entry today?’

   ‘You sound like Nanny asking after my bowels,’ said Crichton, but as a matter of fact I have had an idea.’

   For once it was a sensible one. 

   ‘I thought I could use my diary as a game book, record of monies owed by chaps in pubs and an aid memoire for birthdays. You’ll never have a forgotten anniversary again,’ he said proudly. ‘Fetch the beastly book. I might as well do it now.’

   I was only too glad to comply and left him too it. I went to hang the birds up in the boot room and give Trenton a rub down. I returned fifteen minutes later to see that he had just finished. He was so proud of it.

Gottknowe Hall

Pheasants    122

Partridge     37

Mallard       3   and yes, we did use bismuth!

Hares          2

Woodcock    0

Others         1 (Derek’s hat)

NB. John produced his wallet and stood us a round in the Jolly Goosander for the first time in thirty years.


It wasn’t exactly Samuel Pepys, but a definitely an improvement on his previous entries. And I told him so. I don’t think he had any idea who I was talking about.