Sunday 8th June 1808

Dear Diary,
A difficult day. The tents arrived mid morning and it was most difficult for me to face them knowing the truth of the recent tragic incident. We were all still embracing in the hallway when the cellar door opened and there stood Ned. We all turned at his appearance and he looked most uncomfortable to be intruding upon the family grief.
He shuffled nervously and then stuttered;
"My deepest cond...." I stopped breathing. " My biggest condoms......." he went on, and I put my hand up to stop him. "My heartfelt condiments to you on the death of your nun.....er, daughter." I shoved him back in the cellar and closed the door.
They were introduced to Dr Cojones and he told them that their daughter was 'bery brabe' to try and 'sabe' him but tripped over her habit and tumbled over the edge. He looked to me for confirmation and I nodded gravely.
I walked with Malcolm around the garden a little later.
"Did she utter any final words?" he asked.
I looked at him and nodded.
"She was thinking of home," I said.
"What did she say?" He entreated.
"She said......'Oh! Effin Hall!' I think," I replied.