Monday, 18 April 2011

Home Sweet Home

Yes dearest Mama, I am home at last and I don't mind telling you I have never been happier. Although the staff  at St Barts were as kind as kind could be there is nothing better than sleeping in ones own bed. Doctor Von Traub has given me a clean bill of health and assures me that if I continue taking the pills (14 per day!) I should not experience another distressing episode.
Although I do not remember much about what happened, I am hoping that you have apologised for me to all concerned. People must realise that I was ill and my resulting behaviour was so unlike me. I shall of course be visiting you as soon as I feel up to it to apologise in person although I have no idea what I am going to say to Mrs Round the Vicar's wife. I sincerely hope that she is over the shock of what must have been a very disturbing experience. Rest assured and God willing, it will not happen again. Heaven only knows where I got the energy and wherewithal from to execute such darstadly deeds,  as Doctor Von Trab says, 'the brain is a mysterious organ, as full of surprises as it is mysteries'.
 I have taken the last of my pills and sleep awaits me. I remain your loving son.

A. xxx

Monday, 14 March 2011

Don't believe all that you read.

Dear Mama,

 Yes I did read the article in the Daily Mirage and my first reaction is to say don't believe everything you read. From the time I spent with Mr Oniker, I find it very hard to believe that he is the much wanted nazi war criminal Ernst Schlafan-Zimmer. For a start Mr Oniker has no trace of an accent and he does not walk with a limp. If you remember the Mirage makes much of Herr Schlafen-zimmer's wooden leg, which Mr Oniker most obviously does not have. If you still have your doubts I suggest you try and work out a ploy which would cause Mr Oniker to roll up his trouser leg. In the meantime I suggest rather than change your staff, you change your daily newspaper.

yours A

Monday, 7 March 2011

Friends Again

Dearest Mama,

 I am so glad that we are close once again and are talking to each other. The past few weeks spent at the house helping you choose staff has been an absolute dream and seemed so much like old times. I'm so very grateful that you saw fit to leaving this important task in the hands of me, you most loving son. Your trip to the Bahamas etc, are in the past. We shall say no more about them.

Now on to important matters. Here, after the interviews are my recommendations for staff positions.

Head Butler: Without any doubt, Mr Edward Oniker. Although of a great age (82) he seems very fit and brings with his a wealth of experience. I was most impressed of his long record at Hardstone House the country seat of the late Earl of Whattingdon. Mr Oniker is your man!

Personal Maid:  Sally Fields. What a delightful girl. (You remember Sally? Blond - Small - giggled a lot) Young admittedly, but great fun and I suspect reliable. I was most impressed by her pert-breasted appearance and look forward to the future monthly interviews we agreed on to see how she was fitting in.

Cook: Madeleine Cook (appropriately named ha-ha) A lovely woman. Brunette (not that, that matters of course) Of a full-breasted appearance well-kept appearance, reliable and very sexy very trustworthy. I look forward to working with her.

Gardener: Amanda  Hoist. What's wrong with a woman gardener that what I say. And especially a young woman of her experience. I checked her particulars throughly and was mightly impressed with what I saw.

So there we have it Mama. You have the final choice of course and I await your decision with great excitement.

Your loving son A. xx

Tuesday, 22 February 2011


 So you are back! And yes of course I am annoyed. Your last missive told me of the painting in the hall and then nothing. I just don't understand why you didn't tell me of the confirmation of the painting's worth. To just up and go to spend some of your sudden gains in the Bahamas without so much as goodbye hurt to say the least. As your only son I would have thought it would have been at the very least polite to tell me of your sudden plans. I have worried about you. Further enquiries led me to believe you hasd been kidnapped, or worse. I was ready to call the police. If it had not been for your postcard...
To sneak off like you did makes me feel....I don't know I'm lost for words. I feel now that I have to make somekind of declaration that I have no interest in your money, as that is how you have made me feel. Like a thief in the night. A gold-digger. I am mother very, very upset, nay angry, that you chose to leave me out of your celebrations.
As far as I am concerned you can buy your Aston Martin. You can hire as many damn staff as you damn well like. For the moment Mother I would prefer if you would not contact me. The very thought that I am considered by my own flesh and blood, my only mother to be a taudry money-chaser (for that is the impression you give) hurts so.


Saturday, 12 February 2011

A Picasso !!!???

Dear Mama,

 I am astounded! If Mr Gelt is correct in his valuation of the painting in the hall then I am uterley flabbergasted. A Picasso you say? I await confirmation with my heart in my mouth.

PS. Don't you think you should wait for the confirmation before you begin taking on staff? I suggest you wait and if and when the time comes I will of course help you with the interviews.

Tuesday, 8 February 2011


Dearest Mama,

 Of course I have no objections to you taking driving lessons. Why on earth would I have any misgivings? I think it's wonderful that someone of your great age should find such an interest. You have all your facilities (although I do worry about your leg - any thoughts yet?). You have good eyesight, remember I've seen you in action with your Purdey and as for your reactions, I think they are better than mine.
However, I am very concerned about your choice of motor vehicle. I don't care that James Bond had one, an Aston Martin, especially a DB5 is an extremely powerful motor car and more than likely much too powerful for you. I am horrified that you have already driven it especially when there is a little thing like a Driving Test to consider and that you reached speeds of over 30 miles per hour on your very first 'adventure' as you rather recklessly call it. It is no laughing matter. What you describe is a criminal offence and also very dangerous and not just for you.
So Mama, I am begging you please, please, please, return the mechanical monster to the place from whence it came. If you are quite convinced that you need to drive please purchase something more sedate.
You remember Mrs Makabee? Didn't she have a Morris Minor that used to belong to her late husband? And hadn't it been garaged for over 20 years? I'm sure she (and me) would be glad to sell it to you.You could get Mr Thomas at the Garage to look at it for you, make repairs if needed and before you know it you could be tootling around the village (if you pass your test of course). Let me know if Mrs Makabee is open to the idea? In the meantime, stick to your bicycle.

Love and kisses A.

Monday, 31 January 2011


Dearest Mama,

I'm afraid the cold (or flu) seems to be getting worse. I haven't set foot outside the door for three days hence my delay into getting back to you. Thank you for your concern and your helpful suggestions but I'm afraid toads and bats are quite difficult to get hold of these days, as is the juice of the walalonga tree (whatever that is). And as for newts, they can prove quite costly. As a matter of interest I did pop into the local pet shop to enquire (without telling the shopkeeper of my particular need of course) and was quite surprised what the going price for young reptiles was. I could get enough Night Nurse and LemSip to last me for a year at that price. Anyway, these things don't last for too long so I'm told. I know this won't meet with your approval but I actually made an appointment with the doctor last night. A very nice lady who I got the feeling thought that I was making a lot of fuss over nothing. She told me to go home and sleep it off, which I duly did but feel no better this morning. I have a serious headache and have vomited on a number of occasions and as for the bottle of Scotch I drank to help me sleep, well I tossed and turned all night so that was a waste of time. Anyhow, that's enough about me and my woes. You didn't mention your health. How is the leg? Have you made a decision yet?
I'm sorry to have to put my visit of once again (3rd time this year- I know) but the last thing I want to do is pass this on to you. I know what you're like with a simple head cold let alone this full blown Swine Flu, with, I'm quite sure,  a touch of pneumonia and bronchitis.

Yours in poor health,  your loving son, A xx

Wednesday, 26 January 2011

The German


Do I really have to remind you that the War finished a long time ago and the arrival of a new butcher in the village who just happens to be German, does not mean that some devilish foreign plot is afoot. I suggest most strongly that you go to the poor man's shop and apologise immediately. I also think it wise that you remove the graffiti forthwith.

Yours with some annoyance A.

Tuesday, 25 January 2011

The Leg

Dearest Mummy,

I do wish you wouldn't go on so about me meeting a young woman. It really is getting rather tedious. IT JUST HASN'T HAPPENED YET! And anyway I'm quite happy  living in my little townhouse with young Bertie. And no, before you start asking you won't know Bertie's family, he's foreign. Swiss actually and no he is not in Banking like yours truly. If you must know (and I know you will) Bertie is a sailor, or to be more precise a Merchant Seaman. I happened to meet him in a club I frequent. He was looking for somewhere to stay, was willing to pay, so, in what I admit was a drunken moment, I invited him to 'Lowlands'. The extra money is a blessing and as he is away at sea every other month he is no bother at all. When he is on dry land he is very good company, regaling me with salty sea dog tales and keeping me amused for hours. I've told him all about you and is looking forward to meeting you.
Now....onto more important things.
You never mention your leg? I do hope it is getting better. What does the nurse say? I hope all that ridiculous talk about 'having it off' was just that - ridiculous talk. The thought of you hobbling about with one leg is just too much. You are still a young woman we don't want you taking to your bed just yet. Not like you sister Molly! And anyway with her it was the drink as you well know so don't let me hear anymore 'it runs in the family' nonsense. A few more weeks, a good holiday (I have a surprise for you!) and you will be a right as rain I just know it. Ask Sister Bellworthy to get in touch with me as I would like to hear an official report on your progress. I'm sorry I have to adopt this tone with you mother but you must understand that I am worried about you. I think a visit is in order, possibly in the new year when work has started to quieten down.
For now I remain your loving son,

Abington x

Sunday, 23 January 2011

Mr Fish


I'm not sure I'm able to get down for Mr Fish's funeral. Of course I shall make every effort to be there but I am up to my eyes with work at the moment, some of which is with some very important clientele.
I'm sure I don't have to tell you how sorry I am to hear of the accident. Sorry and somewhat surprised. Wasn't Mr Fish an ex soldier? I'm sure I remember (when I was a boy), him telling me of his escapades on the front line. I remember quite clearly watching him pruning in the rose garden whilst at the same time he regaled me with tales of derring-do. To this end one wonders why a man of Mr Fish's experience didn't immediately recognise an unexploded shell the moment he saw it. To manhandle it like he must have to cause it to explode, seems a very odd thing to do, although to be fair I do know that his eyesight was not what it once was. One can only hope that it was quick for him.
You say that the greenhouse was completely destroyed and that the body was spread over a large area. What a sad end to a great gardener and very loyal friend. Although I have to say it was how he would have wanted to go. Before you shed too many tears mother dear think on this, Mr Fish is still, in a different way still tending the garden for you. He is STILL, improving the soil and encouraging the worms to do their valuable work.
However, Mr Fish will be irreplaceable. His ruddy face and toothless smile will be missed. They just don't make them like that anymore. Did your orchids survive the blast?

your loving son A xx

Saturday, 22 January 2011

Another Aunt Beryl Episode

Dearest Mama,

 I was so upset to hear about Aunt Beryl. I suppose it goes without saying that the police are involved once again. I do hope that nobody was hurt and the tea rooms were not crowded with innocent bystanders - not like last time. It must have been so embarrassing for you especially when you had shown so much trust in her. Had she stopped taking the pills again? You really mustn't blame yourself this time,  you can't have eyes in the back of your head. I note wuth great sadness that a horse was involved. The poor thing must have suffered greatly, one can only hope that its demise was swift and it did not suffer too much. And she dressed it like she did the sheep you say? My God what must be going through the poor mad woman's brain. And how does she find the time to knit such elaborate costumes?Anyway as long as you are undamaged and firing on all cylinders.
I am very well thank you. My leg is healing and my hair is growing back albeit slowly. I'm sure it won't be long before I can dispense with the appalling wig and regrow my quiff.
Please keep me up to date with the Beryl episode as I fear that this time it might mean a custodial sentence, and not a short one. The Magistrates must be tiring of seeing Aunt Beryl in the dock. Ah well, look forward to your reply. Take care and remember me to Beryl.

A x