Chlamydia had returned from her holiday and invited me to partake of the
grindings of the bean at Costamuchamoulah cafe, with the barely
suppressed motivation of revealing the wonders of her daughter,
Scheherezade’s examination results.
I was about to say, Don’t tell me- she got a full set of A*s, before stifling
a yawn, when I thought better of it. Oh, the wisdom of increasing age.
She and Tiger-Lily got straight A*s, you know, beamed the proud parent.
Let’s celebrate with a cookie.
How did that awful girl, Juniper do?
This was the wrong enquiry.
Oh. Actually I bumped into her mother- Gisela, I think she said her name
was. She told me that the school had received a letter from the Exam Board
to the effect that Juniper had scored one of the top marks in the country for
her Art project.
What was so special about it? I asked, between mouthfuls of cookie crumbs.
Apparently she knitted a royal baby, complete with crown and cradle, but
used black wool to subvert expectations. She photographed it yarn-bombed
to the memorial in The Mall. She had crotcheted a complete Royal family and
had attached a sign to her installation which said: Race, Gender, Religion:
No Bar To Succession.
It’s a wonder she didn’t get arrested, I said.
No, it seems to have been very well received by The Suttonford Chronicle,
as her photo is on the front page. She’s had an unconditional offer from The
Slade for 2016.
What’s happening with Carrie and Gyles?
Oh, they are still away. Alyona didn’t go with them. She decided to go
over to Normandy to see Ola and Jean-Paul, to help with their new baby,
Is it only a year since the twinning trip with Bric-a-Brac? I was aghast at how
Yes, laughed Clammie. Remember when Carrie thought Jean-Paul had fallen
for Ginevra? I mean, a ninety year old gin drinker pulling a French widower!
When are Brassie and Cosmo back?
Oh, they returned yesterday and had to go to the kennels straight away.
The twins missed Andy so much. Apparently he has been a real pain and was
hyper-excited when he was reunited with them. He sank his teeth into all the
French cheeses they had brought back from the hypermarket.
Plus ca change, I muttered.
Brassie said the boys had bumped into one of their teachers in the Loire.
They said they were grossed out by the sight of the old boy holding hands
with a woman in the Gardens of Love at Villandray. They said Bonjour to
him, but he just blanked them.
Well, I tried to make some sort of defence, Teachers are surely entitled to
some degree of privacy in their holidays. I wonder which master it was,
I cogitated. It wouldn’t have been that grumpy old Mr Snodbury? I had
heard so many tales of his curmudgeonly behaviour from Castor, Pollux and
Rollo, Ferdy and Co.
I think that was the name, actually, she replied, beginning to lose interest.
They said they recognised his domed head. He stupidly wasn’t wearing a hat
and his head was pretty sunburnt. There was another woman with them who
looked incredibly like him, as if he was in drag.
Maybe it was Alastair Sim, I laughed. You know, maybe Snod has a
sister. Anyway, it was hardly likely to be a menage a trois, was it?
Hopefully not, she said. That really would gross anyone out!