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| Photo Dereck on the Loch |
Kilchurn Castle
It was ‘lights out’ in Boadicea dorm when the discussion took an unusual turn. It was the subject of ‘boys’. It was only during the end of year dances the girls who did not have brothers were introduced to these creatures of the opposite species. Normally fraternization with boys was not encouraged. Miss Pringle said it was ‘counterproductive and not conducive for concentrating on one’s studies’. Tamsin's Family Home in the Far Distance on Loch Awe
It was Charlotte, who had just arrived at the college and is also my newest Facebook friend, who was convinced males were of a completely different genus. By the way, her mother is an actress.
Rhonda, speaking from experience having two brothers, declared “Charlotte, believe me, up close boys don’t smell as bad as some of their more disgusting habits. Also there is only a 50% chance you might, or might not, marry one of them one day”. Experience is the best teacher. Rhonda knew what she was talking about, except about the married bit.
I suspect Miss Pringle, the assistant headmistress, also regarded males as unnecessary baggage. She was in her late forties, early fifties, and still unmarried, as was our headmistress, Miss Sefton.
Boys did not faze Tamsin as much as the boys were intimidated by her. I am sure the concerned mothers of the boys at these dances warned their sons to keep well away from Tamsin but whether they paid heed to, or more importantly were encouraged by, their mother’s nervousness and advice was another matter.
Tamsin noted that in this modern-day and age Miss Pringle could propose marriage to Miss Sefton. Despite their age differences they were both single and were about the same height. I am not sure of the connection there but critically important were they were both C of E.
Incidentally, I find Tamsin’s reasoning patterns quite bizarre.
Briefly, there had been boys in Tamsin’s life, like Nathan whom she met at the Rickmansworth Folk Club above the fish and shop, the Ocean….. er something or other in the High Street, where he had taught her the only three guitar chords he knew in the key of ………well whatever. I felt that little liaison had been a bit one-sided from the start and was going nowhere. Hang on I just remembered, it was the chord of E minor. If Nathan thinks some unbridled pash might result from these free lessons, he had another think coming. Tamsin is not that sort of girl; she is a free spirit.
Then there was Grant ……er somebody or other who she met at last year’s college dance who she reckoned was quite hot. Then there was ‘gormless’ looking Pat O’ Reilly, a suspected pygmy from the St Joan of Arc Catholic School whom she was partnered in the gay gordons at the school dance . She said he was a ‘twit’. I suppose she knows what she is talking about. I mean she is rapidly coming up to just over 15¾.
The earnestness of the conversation waned as one by one the girls drifted off the sleep.
The following day after college we walked into town. Tamsin, observant as always, called attention to the fact that as most of the week is taken up by weekdays all that is left at the end of the week is two days to enjoy oneself. Who could argue with that?
Across the street, Tamsin spied Nathan, the traveling troubadour, with his guitar slung nonchalantly across his back. “Look Bridgette. There’s Nathan. He must be on his way to a gig at the Autumn Leaves Retirement Home for the Aged”.
I replied “But I thought you said he only knows three chords?”
“Yes. That’s right; he said that’s all you need to know to give a concert. Anyway he said a dozen or so verses and choruses of Where Have All the Flowers Gone and Whisky in the Jar will take up most of the afternoon, and if there is a call for an encore they could always get the ‘inmates’ (Nathan’s disrespectful word, by the way) to join in a sing-a-long of Kumbaya”.
As we moved on, her wannabe lothario waved cheerily and disappeared like magic into the colorful, exotic world of the hustle and bustle of the Rickmansworth Saturday morning shoppers.
Tamsin Lacey’s parents had retired and bought a property in Scotland at Loch Awe, not far from Kilchurn Castle. The castle is just ruins. It was built in the mid-1400s and was a base of the Campbell Clan for over 150 years. It is only about 10 miles from Inveraray so Tamsin and I are now almost neighbours. Her father had been a long-serving minister in the Northern Ireland government.
The following Saturday we were invited to stay overnight with Mr and Mrs Lacey at Loch Awe Grange.
There are terrifying moments in a young girl’s life. Moments such as when their mothers decide to pull out a nude photograph of them as a baby to show all the other guests on their wedding day.
Well, there was a defining moment in Tamsin’s life when she had to face up to life’s cruel reality. OK, I admit it was not quite the same.
Tamsin’s mother recounted to my father and mother about an incident when Tamsin was about eight years old when she had to face up to this ‘reality’ I referred to. Thankfully it was not a nude photograph that caused the embarrassment. It was just an event in a young girl’s life. Even so, I felt Tamsin cringe as the story was being told.
The story goes: it was at the breakfast table Tamsin said excitedly to her mother “mother, mother there’s a dog show on at the fairground today. Can we enter Princess?”
Her mother said, “She needs papers to prove she is a purebred dog to enter a dog show”.
Tamsin asked, “Can’t we get her some of these papers on the way over to the show-ground?”
“No. We cannot. A dog is either born with a pedigree or it is not. Princess is in the NOT category. Now eat your porridge.”
The scene changes as Tamsin and her mother and father were waiting patiently for Princess to jump into the car to go to the showground. Tamsin was already sitting in the back seat with Princess on the end of a leash encouragingly calling “Come on Princess, come on girl in you get.”
Mr Lacey impatiently said “For heaven’s sake Lydia put her in the car or we will be here all day”.
On the way to the showground, Tamsin leaned over the front seat and asks “mother can you call me Moonbeam?”
“Your name is Tamsin. Now put your seat belt on”.
As they arrived at the show-ground father said “Now Tamsin, we are just going to the refreshment tent. Don’t wander off. We won’t be too long”.
Tamsin strolled among the entrants and found a spare blanket on the ground between two other entrants. She sat down, searched her bag for her comb to comb Princess. The other dog owners continued prizzying and fluffing their dogs up and doing things doggy people do as the judges walked among the entrants.
The judges then approached Tamsin and Princess.
The lady judge put both of her hands up in a feigned surprise and said adoringly “what a lovely little chappie. What’s his name?”
Tamsin frowning, replied hotly “he is NOT a lovely little chappie. He is a girl”.
“Oh, I AM sorry. What’s her name?”
Tamsin replied “Princess”.
The judge cooed “what a lovely name”.
Tamsin said grudgingly “at least it’s better than Tamsin”.
“Well stay around for the judging. Today we are having a special category for the cutest dog and they do not have to be pure-bred”.
As they left a little girl sat down opposite Tamsin ready to take her photo thinking she was important. Tamsin put her hand up to signal her to pause while she combed her hair with Princess’s comb. The flash went off and Tamsin’s eye-balls burnt out for 150th of second and the showground went from an angry crimson colour then back to a nice colour image.
It was a moment that caught Tamsin’s parents completely off guard. On arriving back at the judging area they saw Tamsin on the stage holding a cup above her head like a Wimbledon winner with a sash around Princess to the cheers of the crowd, as the judge announced that the owner of the cutest dog in the show was a Miss Moonbeam.
Mr Lacey looked at his wife Lydia and mouthed querulously “Moonbeam?”
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