what that husband of yours has started with that ridiculous and irrelevant question of his?’
I puckered my brow as I shook my head. ‘No. Frankly, dear, I can’t see that far, given that it was such a small thing, and he is all the way down at the other end of the table. Perhaps you’d care to ask
him
.’
‘Ooh,’ Cee-Cee cautioned as she sucked up half the room’s oxygen – or enough, at least, to cause the drapes to sway.
Peregrine stood abruptly, pushing his chair over backwards as he rose. ‘What I would like is for you to bring my supper up to my room on a tray.’
‘What a lovely idea,’ I said, clasping my hands together. ‘Too bad it’s against the rules.’
‘The
rules
?’ Peregrine roared. ‘Madam, surely you jest!’
‘Jest not, lest it lead to jousting,’ I said solemnly. ‘Be forewarned that I never joke about any of my rules. While I am a pacifist, born and bred, there have been times when a rolling pin, or a broom handle, has found its way into my hands with me fully intending to use it.’ It would have been self-defeating to point out that those were the times that I intended to either roll out a pie crust or to sweep the floor. However, once, while daydreaming, I may even have swept the floor with a pie crust dangling from the end of my broom handle. There should be limits to self-disclosure, don’t you think?
‘
What
rules?’ Lord Huff and Puff was getting quite impatient with me.
I arranged my lips in what approximated, or so I hoped, a placid smile. ‘I don’t allow food to be taken upstairs. You see, here in the colonies we are plagued by all manner of vermin, such as have been long since eradicated on your side of the pond. Just the other day I saw a cockroach as large as a Volkswagen Beetle. It was trying to wrestle a mattress out of room six, on account of some woman tourist had sneaked a bag of chocolate bars into her room and then accidently sat on one, thereby mashing it into the bed.’
All traces of belligerence melted from Peregrine’s face. It was like watching a soufflé fall when the oven door has been slammed. Unfortunately, this caused his moustache to droop further, making it even more difficult to understand his hoity-toity accent. Can I then be blamed for tuning out a lot of what he said? Based on what the Babester filled me in on later, what follows is a somewhat faithful rendition – I say only ‘somewhat,’ because, alas, I don’t always pay strict attention when the Babester is speaking either. One might say that I have a short attention span.
‘Frankly,’ he said, ‘you are one fine specimen of a woman: good teeth, long limbs, strong withers. I take my membership in the House of Lords quite seriously, you know; I believe in the principle of
Noblesse Oblige
. In all honestly, it has been a
long
time since I’ve been privileged to encounter a spokeswoman both as articulate and – dare I say – imaginative as you in either chamber of government. You, madam, are an honour to your sex.’ With the last remark he doffed an imaginary top hat.
I had nothing that I wished to doff.
Au contraire
, I donned my serviette by draping it over my heaving yet oddly concave chest. There are times – perhaps such as this – when I might do well to listen carefully to the other person rather than jump to conclusions based on one or two key words.
‘Why you cheeky, uh, bowl of bouillabaisse,’ I said. ‘My sex life is none of your business.’ I
attempted
a one-eyed wink at the Babester. ‘And although it is off limits,’ I continued, ‘in the spirit of the special relationship our two countries share, I will throw out the following statistics: once on Mondays, twice on Tuesdays, thrice on Wednesdays, etc., but never on Sundays, because that’s my day of rest.’
The Babester winked back.
‘Huh?’ Alison said. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Brava!’ Aubrey whispered.
‘No fair,’ Agnes managed to hiss without any ‘s’s. ‘Remember that
I puckered my brow as I shook my head. ‘No. Frankly, dear, I can’t see that far, given that it was such a small thing, and he is all the way down at the other end of the table. Perhaps you’d care to ask
him
.’
‘Ooh,’ Cee-Cee cautioned as she sucked up half the room’s oxygen – or enough, at least, to cause the drapes to sway.
Peregrine stood abruptly, pushing his chair over backwards as he rose. ‘What I would like is for you to bring my supper up to my room on a tray.’
‘What a lovely idea,’ I said, clasping my hands together. ‘Too bad it’s against the rules.’
‘The
rules
?’ Peregrine roared. ‘Madam, surely you jest!’
‘Jest not, lest it lead to jousting,’ I said solemnly. ‘Be forewarned that I never joke about any of my rules. While I am a pacifist, born and bred, there have been times when a rolling pin, or a broom handle, has found its way into my hands with me fully intending to use it.’ It would have been self-defeating to point out that those were the times that I intended to either roll out a pie crust or to sweep the floor. However, once, while daydreaming, I may even have swept the floor with a pie crust dangling from the end of my broom handle. There should be limits to self-disclosure, don’t you think?
‘
What
rules?’ Lord Huff and Puff was getting quite impatient with me.
I arranged my lips in what approximated, or so I hoped, a placid smile. ‘I don’t allow food to be taken upstairs. You see, here in the colonies we are plagued by all manner of vermin, such as have been long since eradicated on your side of the pond. Just the other day I saw a cockroach as large as a Volkswagen Beetle. It was trying to wrestle a mattress out of room six, on account of some woman tourist had sneaked a bag of chocolate bars into her room and then accidently sat on one, thereby mashing it into the bed.’
All traces of belligerence melted from Peregrine’s face. It was like watching a soufflé fall when the oven door has been slammed. Unfortunately, this caused his moustache to droop further, making it even more difficult to understand his hoity-toity accent. Can I then be blamed for tuning out a lot of what he said? Based on what the Babester filled me in on later, what follows is a somewhat faithful rendition – I say only ‘somewhat,’ because, alas, I don’t always pay strict attention when the Babester is speaking either. One might say that I have a short attention span.
‘Frankly,’ he said, ‘you are one fine specimen of a woman: good teeth, long limbs, strong withers. I take my membership in the House of Lords quite seriously, you know; I believe in the principle of
Noblesse Oblige
. In all honestly, it has been a
long
time since I’ve been privileged to encounter a spokeswoman both as articulate and – dare I say – imaginative as you in either chamber of government. You, madam, are an honour to your sex.’ With the last remark he doffed an imaginary top hat.
I had nothing that I wished to doff.
Au contraire
, I donned my serviette by draping it over my heaving yet oddly concave chest. There are times – perhaps such as this – when I might do well to listen carefully to the other person rather than jump to conclusions based on one or two key words.
‘Why you cheeky, uh, bowl of bouillabaisse,’ I said. ‘My sex life is none of your business.’ I
attempted
a one-eyed wink at the Babester. ‘And although it is off limits,’ I continued, ‘in the spirit of the special relationship our two countries share, I will throw out the following statistics: once on Mondays, twice on Tuesdays, thrice on Wednesdays, etc., but never on Sundays, because that’s my day of rest.’
The Babester winked back.
‘Huh?’ Alison said. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Brava!’ Aubrey whispered.
‘No fair,’ Agnes managed to hiss without any ‘s’s. ‘Remember that
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