Dear Diary,
I am unsure if it is due to the unseasonal warm weather or the constant anxiety I feel since Cain's revelation but today I have felt unwell.
I lay upon the chaise with the drapes drawn to shade me from the sun.
Mrs Crutchlow offered me a nibble of her soft, warm baps but I declined.
I feared the mastication would make me perspire more.
Dear Diary,
Yet another sultry day.
The sight of Harden Thicke wielding his chopper in the garden, naked to the waist, certainly helped in keeping my mind off 'my' Knob.
Dear Diary,
Although I feel crushed by Cain's dreadful news, life goes on.
Grey clouds and rain would have suited my mood today and yet for once it was not to be. The sun came out in all its glory and the day was glorious. No doubt those swallows that left for warmer climes are pecking themselves in vexation.
Today is my Mother's birthday. She and Father had left early in the afternoon, spurred on by the weather, to spend a weekend at their cottage retreat that overlooks Nethercombe Bay.
Willow and I rode thither later in the day to surprise her and offer our birthday greetings since we had not had the opportunity earlier in the day.
The journey was pleasant and the sunset quite magnificent and I almost forgot that 'my' Knob was gravely threatened. We arrived at dusk and caught her by surprise in her night gown but she was pleased to see us.
We did not intrude long and rode home by way of Netherside where we called at an Inn for refreshment, Two Fighting Cocks. I enjoyed my steak but Willow was disappointed with his Wexford chicken and exclaimed it to be far too peppery. I was not surprised at his disappointment for it was also covered in cheese! We rode the leafy lanes home in the dark. At one point I was nearly thrown from Python when a deer leapt out upon the path ahead.
We arrived home just as Mrs Tull was leaving Knob End. She had called upon Mrs Crutchlow while my parents were away seeking her advice upon their favourite dishes and other tips on how to run the kitchen up at The Grange.
"Feel free to call again any time Mrs Tull," I said.
"There you go, now you have no excuse," smiled Mrs Crutchlow, "Bye Jenny, and mind you don't over butter them crumpets!"
Dear Diary,
Forgive my neglect.
I received some dreadful news whilst at dinner with my family on Sunday up at the Grange.
The meal was cooked by the new house-keeper Mrs Tull.
It was pleasant but I must confess it was not up to the standard of Mrs Crutchlow's roast dinners.
The conversation was for the most part inane and polite until I mentioned my intention, after dinner, of mounting The Knob.
"Enjoy it whilst you can, dear brother," smiled Cain from behind his glass of port.
"I do not understand," I replied, "what are you implying?"
"Well...," his smugness was infuriating, " I am afraid all public access is shortly to be prohibited..." He paused and sipped his port and then continued;
"... once the mining starts."
"The mining?" I spluttered.
"Indeed, the whole hill is a veritable gold mine." He was enjoying my surprise.
"They are to mine gold on The Knob?" I could not believe it.
Cain laughed.
"Not 'they' brother, 'I' and it is not gold, you buffoon! It is coal!"
Can there be anything worse than losing one's Knob?
Oh Diary, what is to be done?
Dear Diary,
Today I have received dreadful news.
I am utterly shocked.
I cannot write for now.
I must gather my wits.
Dear Diary,
Willow is very much taken with his 'Homeau' and has ridden him often since his arrival.
Yesterday morn, whilst he was out upon one of his rides, I received a visitor.
I was just descending the stairs when there came a knock upon the door.
Mrs Crutchlow hurried out to open it and then promptly shut it again.
"Its 'him!' She spat returning to the Kitchen.
I opened the door again.
"I trust you will not allow that insolent woman to get way with that!" Cain was livid as he pointed his crop at me.
"She is her own woman with her own opinions and tastes. I am afraid brother you are not to her taste and therefore shall have to live with her rejection of you. I am sure you are man enough to weather it after all you did survive an encounter with ferocious tiger whist in India, did you not?"
"Indeed," he said slapping his crop to his thigh.
"And to what end do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" I smiled.
"I am to invite you and your Willy to dinner tomorrow after Chapel," he said.
"His name is Willow," I corrected.
"Well, whatever. Shall I say you accept?"
"Of course!" I tried to sound delighted. "Nothing pleases me more than spending time in the bosom of my family."
"Until then." He nodded and stalked off.
I closed the door.
"Bosom of your family indeed! If they are a bosom then he is the biggest pimple on it," snorted Mrs Crutchlow who had crept back out behind the door to eavesdrop.
"Yes, indeed, like a wart, a third enormous nip......"
"Thank you, Mrs Crutchlow!" I interrupted. "I am in need of a stiff one. Would you be so kind as to fetch it?"
The evening brought the revelation of the reason for Willow's mysterious absences of late.
He told me we were to see a play and we rode in the evening to a woodland on the shores of Nethermere.
Such delightful surroundings they were as we took our seats upon a woodland stump.
The play was just about to begin when he excused himself saying he was in need of some refreshment.
Imagine my surprise when it transpired he was one of the 'thespians'!
Indeed he was one of a trio of witches who howled and shrieked over their cauldron and foretold 'doom' in all that followed. They were not incorrect.
It was a tad on the morbid side for my tastes and practically the whole cast ended up dead but I applauded with the rest of the audience. I sensed they were as relieved as I at its conclusion.
"I wish you had told me sooner," I said as we rode home, "I perhaps could have played a part. I am well known in these parts for my 'Dick' and am sure I would have drawn a healthier audience. Many have said it to be the best portrayal of 'Whittington' they have ever seen."
He spurred Homeau on and I could scarcely keep up.
I have risen early before Chapel to appraise you of yesterdays events.
I shall see you again afore bed.
Dear Diary,
I rose early before even Willow stirred and fetched his present from its hiding place at Thrushcock Grange.
I fastened it to Ned's erection beneath the beech tree and went in to waken him.
I asked him to cover his eyes and led him into the parlour in his night gown.
"Is it a mini-goat?" He asked eagerly.
"No," I replied. "Open your eyes and see."
He did and gasped in surprise.
There in the garden stood the beautiful chestnut stallion I had acquired for him at some expense.
"I do hope it will follow your command," I said a little unsure. "I have had it shipped from a highly recommended stud in France. The Countess Cornelia Du Plessis acquires all her horses from them. "
Willow was already hurrying outside.
"Perhaps you should dress first," I called after him, but he had gone.
I hurried out just in time to see him swing up onto its back. His nightshirt rode up.
I could see he was excited.
"What shall I call him?" He smiled from astride his birthday present.
"Homeau!" I replied.
 |
| Willow - For it is he. |
