And No Such Festive Cheer

Oh dear me, gentle reader, I have been neglecting you since my last posting. It's been quite a week, I can tell you – there's a lot going on. In the bric-a-brac store that I laughingly call my haphazard and chaotic life, the various shelves, nooks and crannies are crammed - nay, stuffed – with both the delights and the detritus of the gorgeous bazaar. But now, to continue the story...

Sitting in the damp and gloom of the lodge's depressingly dismal drawing room, we very soon realized that we were in a pickle. We had all arrived by taxi, and it seemed that the house was miles from any noticeable civilization, so we were trapped. The huge American woman was the first to complain. She had rumbled her way into the kitchen and was slamming a succession of cupboard doors angrily. "Why isn't there any goddamn food in this hell-hole?" she bellowed. "A girl could starve to death here in a matter of minutes. What does that bastard think he's doing?"

Indeed, what did his Lordship expect that we were going to do? And where was he? With no telephone (and this was in an age before mobiles), we were isolated; completely bereft of any means of communication. We felt like we were sitting ducks, but without the feathers. My aunt decided to take charge of the situation (now there's a surprise). It was obvious that someone needed to – the American woman was by now simply screaming at the top of her voice and stamping her huge feet in anger; the chinless wonder Balls had sunk into a melancholy silence; and the Norwegian youth and his bird-like girlfriend were clinging to each other sitting on a decrepit Louis Quatorze chaise-longue, she sobbing.

As Dolores stood by the massive marble fireplace, which resembled the entrance to a great black sinister cave, she clapped her hands to call order. However, before she could speak, Enstone (his Lordship's "man") appeared in the doorway, as if from nowhere. He coughed politely, stopping my aunt in her tracks. "I have a message from his Lordship," he announced, but said nothing more. Dolores eyed him with malice. "Then out with it, man!" she barked. Hesitantly, he told us that the Earl had apparently decided, at the last minute, to spend the holiday at his villa on the Côte d'Azur, and had flown out that morning. According to Enstone, we were still welcome to stay, and we were to 'make ourselves at home' and enjoy the break.

"Make ourselves at home?" Dolores mocked. "Make ourselves at home? Just what kind of a home is this with no food, no drink, no bedding, no heating, no nothing? Are you absolutely barking mad, man?" Her accusations were echoed by the American woman, now wobbling with rage. The others simply stared at him in disbelief. I said nothing.

"There is a shop in the village," Enstone replied, "but you'll have to be quick as it closes at four. There are logs in the wood store, for the fire. You should find some bedding in one of the cupboards on the landing, or there are... there are the dust sheets from here. I'm sorry, there is nothing more I can do." And he was gone. Even the normally indefatigable Dolores was somewhat disconcerted at this. She tried to splutter a response, she even demanded that Enstone return to the room to account for himself, but he failed to appear and it seemed that we had been well and truly abandoned by old Maugersbury (or "Morgie", as my aunt referred to him). Nobody knew what to say; there didn't seem anything suitable to say.

In silence, the American woman picked up a glass paperweight from the bureau and hurled it into the fireplace whereupon it smashed into a host of glittering shards. Pointing to the rest of us, she shouted: "I'm going to eat one of you, if I don't get some food immediately. That fucking treacherous bastard will pay for this when I see him!" At this, the Norwegian youth quietly opened his backpack and pulled out a rather crumpled half-eaten loaf of bread, a square of flattened cheese, and a medium-sized chocolate bar. "You are welcome to these," he murmured.

The poor boy - he nearly got killed in the rush.

To be continued.....