My Barsetshire Diary (The Barsetshire Diaries Book 1) Page 3

  "Time we were off", she said. "Remember I told you yesterday we had to leave by nine".

  There was absolutely no point in my arguing that she'd said not a word yesterday as I'd only be told I'd forgotten. Apparently it's a known fact that only the male brain is susceptible to forgetfulness. Anyway the bruises from the last time I argued are only just fading, I joke to myself.

  Obediently I got into the car having first checked I had all my wife's necessities with me. Wallet, credit card, cheque book and pen. Of course I still had no idea where we were going.

  We travelled through the village in a series of kangaroo jerks as both Lady J and I offered waves to the villagers we saw. Hers were a lot more regal than mine and so required concentration she had to borrow from her driving skills.

  Eventually we reached the expressway and I realised we were again heading in the direction of the city as we had on Sunday. Perhaps we were going to see my darling daughter Ysabel again. I realised how accurate my prediction was as we pulled up outside her door.

  Greeting Ysabel with a hug, I forebore from asking why we were here as no doubt I'd been told that yesterday as well. However in timely fashion Lady Julia volunteered the information when she asked our daughter if she was ready for the shopping expedition.

  At that moment the strangest sight flew past me… I'm sure it was a dog but equally sure it had a huge red mouth. Perhaps it had just killed someone, I thought, ready to leap into action to save my women being attacked. Rapidly following the dog came a seemingly angry child waving a paper bag above her head and I heard her plaintive cry of “Stop!” fading into the distance as she ran past and down the hill to the river at the end of the street.

  I turned to head back to the car and was nearly bowled over by a woman now also racing down the street and shouting “Stop!”. For a moment I wondered if I'd walked into a scene from the latest Keystone Cops Movie Number 27. Then as the fickle finger of fate pointed at me I was bowled over as the dog came bounding back up the hill and thrust his reddened mouth right between my legs. I hit the ground. Next of course came the child who chased the dog away and followed it. Finally and much more slowly came a gasping woman who stopped to lean on the car to get her breath back. Ysabel helped me to my feet and with all the dignity I could muster I adjusted my waistcoat.

  "I'm so sorry", said the woman. "The dog opened a bag of coated mallows and ate most of them before my daughter could stop him. The red dye has stuck to his face making him look very odd. My daughter was cross as they're her favourite sweets and so chased him out of the garden and I had to follow as I don't want her near the river".

  Dismissing the apology as unnecessary on my behalf, we climbed into the car and headed for the shops.

  "Just a few food items", said my wife as we arrived, "and don't forget we need bread, but first, Ysabel and I just want to pop in here for a look around", as they headed for a new gift shop.

  "Shall I go for a coffee and wait for you?” I asked hopefully.

  "Don't be silly, David" was the response, "we may need you".

  I dutifully followed them inside. My fears and suspicions were heightened when Julia got a trolley rather than a basket. And, into the trolley went two cushions for Ysabel the combined size of which was bigger than me.

  "That colour will complement your suite nicely", said Julia.

  Next into the seemingly cavernous maws of the trolley went a table lamp that I heard “carried the right light” - ???? A mirror, a photo frame and a jar of sweets, the last of which was to be a birthday gift for a friend two months hence, the reason being that of course, “we might as well get it while we're here”. The chance might not arise again despite being only four miles away from the shop. I applauded such optimism.

  Just as I thought we had finished Ysabel disappeared and returned a moment later with another trolley. I know at that point I felt faint. Into this trolley went what seemed like the rest of the shop's content. At that moment I was startled by a faint squeak recognisable as the voice of my beloved. She appeared to be shimmering in and out of this world in a paroxysm of delight.

  "Just look at that", she cried. "It’s absoloootly perfect", I heard. The fear crept up my body from ground level until I couldn't even gasp.

  Before me, directly in line with her finger was a large, red lacquered, chinoiserie cabinet that I just knew was not destined for Ysabel's house. Mainly because the house would have fitted inside it. Even my wallet screamed after I heard, "And it's in the sale too".

  The women huddled and faintly I heard terms like "It's a must", and "It's a steal with a whole 1% off”.

  My credit card whimpered and tried to burrow deeper into my pocket in a futile attempt to pretend it had been left at home. A glare from Lady J was enough to bring it out to pay.

  The ever helpful staff revived me and lowered the double part of the back seat down to accommodate the cabinet and the other goods. Before I could get in I was reminded that we still needed the food shop and bread with perhaps a coffee as well.

  The drink of course was a pleasant interlude between two nightmares.

  The food shop proceeded as planned. Lady J piled the bread and an assortment of things we never knew we needed into another trolley. Ysabel shopped with equal enthusiasm. On this occasion only my wallet was needed to pay and the groan that escaped my lips was barely audible.

  When we reached the car Lady J displayed her wonderful heart by suggesting I sit down in the front while they packed the car. I sat, fastened my belt and closed the door and my eyes hoping for a quick snooze. That idea was rudely interrupted when the door opened and before my eyelids had chance to do the same my lap went cold. This was probably due to the carrier bag full of frozen prawns that appeared there. Bag after bag followed until I could barely see and the idea of breathing was a luxury I used to enjoy.

  The four mile journey back to Ysabel's was an agony of hoping nothing would develop frostbite or drop off before we reached there safely. We did reach there safely!

  The car door opened and one by one the bags were removed. You could hear the sound of ice cracking as I got out of the car and then, loaded with the cushions and other booty, I struggled indoors.

  Hugs and kisses later Lady J and I set off for home. There are a number of sets of traffic lights between the city and the expressway home. With every stop I had visions of being pinned to the windscreen by the cabinet but miraculously we made it all the way home with me still intact.

  At 7.00 pm Lady J manoeuvred the car up to the door and then struggling under the weight of this solid wood monstrosity, we staggered in through the front door to my office, where it was deposited. My office being directly opposite the front door made this the easiest place to put it, pending another more permanent move.

  Dinner was a silent affair where I glanced up hopefully at every sound thinking I was to be given my new instructions for the placing of the cabinet.

  Dear readers, it's time for bed. My orders have not come and in truth, looking round my home I can see no space for it anyway. So, the path into my office is blocked and I fear tomorrow's mail will stack up waiting for me to respond to the usual questions. Do I really need those latex undergarments designed to bring an air of excitement to my marriage?

  Am I sure I don't want to pay £100 to have someone tell me about the disasters that will befall me if I don't? Psychic Sigourney sees all, knows all. Send your cash now!

  Thursday, July 22, 2010

  The Furniture Removal

  Today bore all the hallmarks of getting off to a good start despite the persistent rain.

  Firstly…the forecast said we might see sunshine for the weekend. We might possibly get a heat wave, though in this country that's the equivalent to anything above zero degrees.

  Secondly...Her Ladyship had gone to spend the morning hovering over the groom at the stables and hadn't insisted I went along.

  Naively I had thought I would be left to my own devices until early afternoon when she returned. I
had not bargained with my wife’s plans for me in her absence.

  Knowing I was unable to venture into my office without crampons and climbing gear I thought my daily jaunt into mail answering and avoiding the numerous salesmen would have to wait so I went into the lounge with the daily paper and a pen in the hopes of answering at least one crossword clue. As I sat I noticed on the coffee table a sheet of paper. On it I saw my fate for the day.

  "David my dear", it read, "please find some assistance and remove the console table from the hall. You will find a space for it along the end of my bed. Then, please replace it with the new Chinoiserie cupboard from your office. Take care NOT TO BANG IT and damage the lacquer, Love Julia".

  Instructions received I left the house and walked across the field to my nearest neighbours. Owain is a big chap and a man of few words. Or at least few that make any sense. His family has served our family for some years as farriers, but he will turn his hand to anything. Sometimes whatever he turns his hand to actually works.

  He was in. I was greeted by his usual "Good morning Lord David, what can I do you for today?"

  I explained that I needed his help moving some furniture in the knowledge that his kind heart would not refuse me. He did not.

  "Just let me rinse off this corncrete", he replied pointing to the patch outside his house where the horses came to be shod. He ignored the fact it was raining. After sluicing the area he referred to as his corncrete we ambled companionably back towards my home while Owain described to me the consequences of his latest visit to the village doctor whom he visited so often they were thinking of charging him ground rent, and who left a slot open daily in expectation of a visit. My mind must have started wandering at some point and I heard him finish the latest tale with "and he thinks it's gone to my limpet glands". I kept a straight face and nodded in what I hoped was empathy.

  Soaked to the skin we entered the house and I suggested we first had a coffee to warm us. Grizelda the cleaner obliged us and brought us hot steaming milky ones on a tray. There seemed to be a distinctly Brasso taste as though she'd given the mugs a quick wipe over with her duster.

  Our break over, Owain and I made a start by moving the console table to its new home. It was quite light and easy to move. Self-satisfaction at achieving half a job must have covered my face as we headed for my office and the task of moving the latest purchase. In the poor light of the day it still looked a monstrosity.

  We grasped an end each, and with me leading the way backwards we lifted it. Strain and beads of sweat appeared on both our brows as we started the trek from my office, past the dining room where Grizelda was now dusting and humming snatches from 'The Stupid Prince', and headed for the hall. As I turned that last corner Owain stumbled and the top of the desk at the back caught the wall. Time stood still. I actually saw the scrape mark appear as if by magic, and the red lacquer rubbed into a little pile and fell leaving a glaring white mark that spelled an early death for me at Lady Julia's hands.

  I heard Owain apologise somewhere dimly and saw him set to hopping and yelling about his old war wound. Even I knew it had been caused when his tug of war team had been dragged over the line by a visiting team at the Village Fête the year before last. His ankle had been sprained.

  I heard myself suggest he visit the quack just in case there was a free appointment and I saw him leave hearing the mumble "Sorry My Lord", in the distance.

  I strained everything I could strain pulling the cabinet on my own the last couple of feet and into its new home. The white shine of the mark appeared greater than it had moments ago. What to do, what to do, she'll kill me, were the thoughts that ran through my head until replaced by a flash of brilliance.

  "Grizelda", I called, "run to the chemist quickly, my girl, and buy me four bottles of nail varnish in different shades of dark red, and for my sake please hurry!"

  "Yes your Lordship", she responded taking the proffered money from my hand. "What shall I say it's for?"

  "Say nothing Grizelda", I responded.

  Within twenty minutes she was back looking like a drowned rat. I sent her off to the kitchen to dry out before the range and looked through the bottles to find the nearest substitute for the missing lacquer. One particular shade called 'Suggestive Siren' looked the best match and with shaking hands and using the little applicator brush I started to apply it. Getting the strokes to look smooth wasn't easy and neither was working bent closely over the patch to blow it dry. Finally it was done. It looked darker than the lacquer but I prayed it would look OK to a cursory glance. Much relieved I threw the bottles in the bin and sat with a fresh coffee trying to look normal.

  I heard the car return and then Julia pass through the hall. "Oh good my dear, you managed it", she said. "It looks good there but perhaps tomorrow" - and there my heart stopped for a moment - "you'll fit a new bulb in the hall as it seems to be casting a dark shadow over the back of the cabinet". I breathed again.

  We lunched on some soup and Brasso flavoured sandwiches prepared by Grizelda. It was a pleasant time as Lady J told me of her morning. Pilgrim's problem was being treated and Masterson the groom had placed dry bedding in the stable. It seemed she and her friends had enjoyed their time together.

  At 2.00 pm with the rain showing no sign of abating we retired to the lounge with the daily papers. With slippers on we settled to a quiet afternoon when there was a ring at the doorbell. I heard Grizelda answer it and then walk along the hallway to the lounge.

  “Excuse me, M’Lord", she said smiling, "but it's the chemist. He wants to know if you found a nail varnish you like and should he order you some more?"

  I'm sure I spluttered and I felt my face go beetroot as I asked her to tell him I had adequate for my needs thank you. Expecting the interruption to bring on the third degree from Julia regarding my need for nail varnish I saw she was actually dozing in her chair.

  I sent Grizelda home early and thanked her for her help before settling back in my chair.

  "I do hope you've not developed any strange habits, David dear", came the dreaded voice. "You know how they like to talk in the village".

  "No my dear", said I. "Just a little something to touch up a model yacht", I replied grasping at straws.

  By 5.00 pm the rain had stopped and I suggested a walk together in the garden. We looked at all the flowers straining their faces hopefully towards the sun and strolled down towards the fruit beds and the orchard.

  "This reminds me", said Julia," the WI have asked me to judge the jam competition this year. It's on Saturday".

  The alarm bells started ringing in my head. I've seen wars where the opposing sides were kinder to each other than the WI members in competition. Whether it be jam making or cakes there would be commando saboteurs on the prowl soon.

  I thought I perhaps could get away lightly until she added, "And you're to open the fête again as usual and then judge the biggest marrow competition".

  My heart sank and I slumped off into the house to catch up on the day’s messages now my office was free. I was ready now to answer the salesmen who suggested at my age I need a hobby and would I like to buy the WI book of jam making!

  Friday, July 23, 2010

  A Fitness Programme

  Despite the miserable forecast there was no rain this morning when I got up. The sun showed its face which seemed to generate smiles all round.

  Grizelda came to work humming pieces from The Phantom of the Cinema which she'd gone especially to the city to see.

  I, however, had an appointment to see Dr Jekyll at the village surgery. Recently I've been suffering quite a bit from, hrumph, er, high blood pressure, yes that's it, blood pressure, and it was making sitting down a tad uncomfortable.

  Lady J ran me to the surgery for my 10.00 am appointment and as we entered the waiting room I felt the crash as the temperature dropped. My wife had just sighted her Nemesis from the village and the sighting had been mutual. The whole room of waiting patients cringed at the sound of daggers drawn.

/>   Mrs Edna Arbuthnott, wife of Edgar Arbuthnott the current mayor, and therefore the mayoress, did not approve of the gentry as she called us. She often says we put on far too many airs and graces. More so this year. I saw her adjust the mayoral chain on her ample bosom and flick an imaginary speck of dust from her Konna Darren suit before she spoke.

  "Good morning My Lord, Your Ladyship", she almost spat. “I hope you're both well."

  "We'd hardly be here wasting the doctor’s time if that were so", responded my wife. "I do hope you have nothing too severe and that Mister Mayor is well". The intent and force of the words of course implied the exact opposite.

  I suggested my wife wait in the car before half the waiting patients suffered frostbite to add to their assorted ills, and then my name was called and I headed for the surgery door.

  Dr Jekyll was on fine form as he donned his gloves and suggested he look 'where the sun don't shine'. I suggested he had all the British Isles to choose from then, and blanching at the sight of a vicious looking implement in his gloved hands I proceeded to undo my braces and drop my trousers.

  After a cursory examination the doctor wrote me a prescription for some soothing cream. I pulled up my trousers, thanked him and left.

  As I reached the waiting room Mrs Arbuthnott was called to her appointment with Dr Hyde and I did not have to face her again. At least, not until the next day when I knew she and her husband would be in attendance at the fête.