Back to the tour with a jolt. We stopped at two massive oils of sea battles - by the appearance of the ships, probably Trafalgar or the Battle of the Nile. Someone dared ask a question.
'What was the family connection with the Royal Navy?'
'We don’t know. The artist was a family friend and he liked doing ships. That’s about it really.'
They simply liked pictures of sea battles, which is a bit like me covering my bedroom wall with pictures of Flanders ca. 1916.
I had made a decision as I started the tour, come what may, my lips had to stay zipped. These tour guides don’t understand critical questions. This whole exercise was very dangerous ground for me. The guides saw it as their chance to convince the tourists that the British Aristocracy were beyond reproach. I don’t blame them for that. They have children to feed and bills to pay and there isn’t much around Lower Butts not controlled from this house.
And then we came to the picture of some
Day 17.Wednesday. Our market garden is crowned by a single storey thirties bungalow, with the loft built out to accommodate the bedroom Sonya and I share. The estate agent euphemism is ‘dormer window,’ which is daft, because like all other bedrooms you sleep in, it is a ‘dormer’, and if you don’t sleep in it, regardless of shape or position, it isn’t a dormer. One imagines a description like ‘Church Cottages,’ means a terrace of houses. Not so! The first two numbers are at least half a mile away, while our house sits at the front of a vast rambling piece of land, which ends where the fen begins. I always thought the house was a prefab, because of its appearance. I was ignorant. It would have been many prefabs joined together for it is a rambling monster. The windows are quaint. This was August. In winter on such a morning, with a stiff breeze off the sea, my mother and I would go round with huge reels of Se
'I don’t believe you!' That was determination. No, it was worse. That was vehemence from a tour guide. Wonders never cease. How would Charley play this one? How dare that woman call Charley a liar, even though he had twice lied? 'Listen, lady. Don’t make me do a thrice denial. Peter was the last to do that. It probably contributed to the spread of Christianity, and look at the mess that has left us in.' I thought I was going to pee myself. Charley boy, it’s official. I love you. I love you to bits. How can I get rid of Vera and her serf and have a quick leg-trembler behind that grizzly bear? There was silence from downstairs. I believe the technical term in warfare is a ‘standoff’. I heard the steps creaking as Charley began to descend the ladder and pressed my forehead against the spindles. Charley was a tall man. He was holding the trophies above his head, where the tour-guide couldn’t reach. 'Give them here,' she ordered. 'You’ll ne
We walked across the tea-parlour lawn towards her car but didn’t get there. A bench by the duck pond seduced us. Once sat down, I reminded her of Charley’s salvo with which he sunk the tour guide and saved my embarrassment - dative case, thrice denial and all that. 'How could he do that? Even if he’d been practising put-downs, it was an amazing achievement for a kid with Charley’s educational background.' 'He does a lot for Sidonie, doesn’t he?' 'You’ve lost me.' 'I think he is totally smitten with you,' she explained, 'and knows the only way to keep you is to close the educational gap. I think your friend Sidonie is match-making by giving him tips in return for him helping her so much with the children. I bet you she is in on this one.' I felt myself go as red as a beetroot. Vera noticed. 'Why does my suggestion embarrass you?' 'I’m shocked that anyone would go to that much trouble to get me - half the parish has dawke
I was on fire. Wind farms were no longer on the agenda. I know that when my adrenaline is pumping, I can make mincemeat of anyone. (OK Vera. I get it now.) I put a business plan in his hand, gave one to Vera, told her to sit down and then sat down some distance from her. That prevented him giving Vera too many withering looks. I would wait for him to ignore me and glare at Vera, and then interrupt him dominating her, by using a bit more lip to make him look my way again. Divide and rule, that was my plan. When I looked up again, I saw how angry he was. I think I could have fried bacon on that forehead. 'Now to the business plan, Mr Ferguson?' He ignored me and addressed Vera. 'Why do we need a business plan? The electricity company has already shown me how it will work. I sent you all the details. All I need is the land-owner signature. I probably don’t need that but my solicitor advised it out of courtesy.' Vera looked helplessly at me.
We walked across the tea-parlour lawn towards her car but didn’t get there. A bench by the duck pond seduced us. Once sat down, I reminded her of Charley’s salvo with which he sunk the tour guide and saved my embarrassment - dative case, thrice denial and all that. 'How could he do that? Even if he’d been practising put-downs, it was an amazing achievement for a kid with Charley’s educational background.' 'He does a lot for Sidonie, doesn’t he?' 'You’ve lost me.' 'I think he is totally smitten with you,' she explained, 'and knows the only way to keep you is to close the educational gap. I think your friend Sidonie is match-making by giving him tips in return for him helping her so much with the children. I bet you she is in on this one.' I felt myself go as red as a beetroot. Vera noticed. 'Why does my suggestion embarrass you?' 'I’m shocked that anyone would go to that much trouble to get me - half the parish has dawke
I walked up to the House pumping adrenaline, feeling as though the world were my oyster. OK, my dad was always going to be the easiest to convince, but I convinced him. Supposing he’d told me to get a life - he wasn’t having Giles Ferguson around his business. Then I would have been at rock bottom. You can only beat the opposition given to you so I was pleased with the first success. Of course, in my youthful folly, I assumed everyone would see the beauty of the idea and just roll over and wait for me to tickle their tummies. I met Vera, who looked as though she had the cares of the world on her shoulders. 'Bad night, Vera?' 'Giles has caught up with me. He’s in the office now. I refused to speak to him until you arrived.' My hubris was short lived. I thought fate would leave me a day to bask in my first victory. Not so! And why did Vera trust me to deal with the local worthies? 'Let’s get this over with,' I replied. I
Day 20.Saturday.I woke this morning with a whirlwind of thoughts crashing through my brain, ripping trees out as it progressed. But I haven’t any trees in my brain. I use trees metaphorically. But what were the trees representing? Then I woke and realised that the trees were part of my dream. In which case ‘trees in the brain’ are allowed.There was another gust of wind and a branch from an unruly climbing hydrangea scraped the window pane. That’s why I have trees on the brain. The dream receded and hid itself in the deep, clandestine, dark and unplumbed folds of my brain. I tried my foot. It was still there, so I am still here. Much better.Had I been thinking wooden trees, or rather, trees in a wood? There are Linnaeus trees to map and identify species, or trees to locate a file in a folder on my computer? Who knows? It was gone, leaving me in that deep nonsense Freud
Day 21.Sunday.I got up at four, was home shortly afterwards, did my share of harvesting, had a shower at eleven thirty and left for church the moment the bells began to ring the end of the service. Breakfast was fried and wafted its scents across the raspberry patch. That had been sometime around eight o’ clock, but I kept picking. Consequently, starvation and weakness were setting in as Giles and Vera waved to me from the seat by the wall - the one upon which I’d received my one and only slapped face. Giles had a big grin on his face, which got bigger as he saw me approach.'There’s a woman with a bad conscience, Vera,' he announced.'How did you work that one out?' I growled.'I dropped in, to give you a lift to church and your Dad said he didn’t know where you were as you were keeping out of everyone’s way. He pointed at a pile of fruit already p