We had scarce waved off the Tents this morning when we noticed another coach approaching. It slowly came to a halt outside the Grange and the four steeds drawing it hung their heads in exhaustion. One of the coachmen dismounted and opened the door. We waited to see who our mystery guest could be but no one appeared. There was some muffled chatter and then the first coachman whistled and gestured for the second coachman to assist. The second fellow entered the coach on the far side and the first from our side. There was a strange rasping, wheezing sound and the coach began to rock wildly. Slowly the first coachman emerged from the interior, backwards, guiding the mystery occupant out. As soon as his face emerged I clapped my hands in joy! It was Mr McVay, my good friend from London! There was a slight distressing moment when his exit was delayed due to the narrow doorway and we had to send in Ned to assist the fellow behind to push a little harder, but soon he was out and clasping the hands of my family.
"You have come in my hour of need!" I exclaimed, but he looked somewhat perplexed. In fact, he knew nought of my recent drama and was simply calling in whilst passing, on his cake tasting tour. He had been to Banbury and was on his way to Eccles and Dundee and hoped to end his journey in Battenburg.
"Come!" I said. "You must sample Mrs Crutchlow's buns!"
How happy I am to see him!
Mr McVay.
You remember....
It is he.
1 comment:
Dear Wayne,
Yes indeed, your Mr. McVay is a most memorable character. I seem to remember you saying he took you up the back passage and also something about accosting some thespians. Such larks and hijinks!
Yours intrigued,
B.
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