Tamsin and the Erotic Exotic Dancers
Or who pays the ferry man?
You see the fault lies squarely with Phaedra who at present is my second best friend as I’m not speaking to Rhonda, but that’s another story. Back to Phaedra, that’s Phaedra Gascoigne, who being aware I write a blog and keep a Facebook page about the comings and goings at Denham Hall Young Ladies College said it would increase my readership or number of hits if I did. She proved her point because you are reading this.
Anyways Phaedra also pointed out at the same time it was the Brothers Grim, hang on or was it the Grim Brothers, who made a fortune making up fantasy stories. As I have a blog AND a Facebook page and they didn’t I have a head start.
As an aside and off-topic, mother noted that new mothers who name their children Shaylene, Kaylee or very silly names like Rebekah could have been suffering from the after-effects of a general anesthetic or ‘praps an epidural, whatever that is, or even the after-effects of glue sniffing and thus should not be ridiculed in any way or even be made fun of. For a boy’s name, I warm to Pericles. I thought I would just get all that off my chest before I start.
Tamsin is almost our next-door neighbor now and she and Rebecca were again our guests at Inveraray Castle for the weekend. I overheard mother telling father she was anxious about my disturbing imagination and wondered if I had a fantasy fixation, whatever that is, and if so I should be put on sedatives.
Anyway, if mother is suffering from anxiety I think it is she that should be taking pills not me.
What caused the anxiety I believe in the first place started one evening at home in Inveraray. You see mother had overheard me telling a story about being on a ferry on a river called the Styx I think it was, and that I had been having an altercation with the man in charge. She had drawn her own conclusions to the story and got it all wrong ………………….…..as usual.
I recalled that this man, the ferryman, got red in the face and had shouted at us girls “Come on you lot. This is not a bleedin’ free ferry service”. You could tell Tamsin was taking it personally. She put her hands on her hips, shook her head from side to side like she does and heatedly shouted “Don’t you shout at me Mr Ferryman. It wasn’t me that ordered your silly boat”.
The ferryman, who for some reason or other called himself Mr Kharon, went red in the face and barked ’’I don’t care who ordered the bleedin’ boat. Who is going to pay the freakin’ ferryman?”
Mother turned to father and pondered “David dear, I have a sense of déjà vu here, like I may have heard this story before”.
Unfazed and in full flight I continued. The exchange was getting really heated and this difference of opinion could easily get out of hand, so much so I thought for a moment blows might ensue or even exchanged so I looked around for Marlene, who is the biggest girl in the class to take care of him.
I was horrified to learn she might be still waiting outside the office of the headmistress Miss Sefton, possibly awaiting detention, expulsion, deportation or worse like a crucifixion. Phaedra had heard words, though not actually joined together of ‘causing bodily harm’ mentioned by the assistant headmistress Miss Pringle to Miss Sefton regarding Marlene Kuczynski’s behaviour.
It may be of interest to my gentle readers to know that Marlene’s parents were able to pay for her exorbitant or is that extortionate ransom-like college’s fees because her father was earning a kings-like ransom as a famous TV wrestling personality known fondly as the ‘Bone Crusher’.
Incidentally, and again slightly off-topic, it was Tamsin Lacey that pointed out the elation one would experience if one was left with the letters N.S.Z.K.U.C.I.Y.K in a scrabble game with twenty pee riding on the result then suddenly realizing it was possibly the name of the Polish Prime Minister.
I had no idea these conversations were taking place between my parents about putting me under sedation until she quizzed me about this Mr Kharon person and questioned if he was attached to the college in any way. It was then I realized she must have overheard me discussing the dream I had.
Father was always a very cool and laid back person and told mother not to worry and that it was only a teenage pubescent thing and could be put down to a rush of estrogen and I would in time grow out of it, but nevertheless he was relieved to hear it was only a dream.
A dream or not, mother was not going to let the matter drop. I knew she was up to something when she asked me what other dreams I had lately. I told her it was a one-off.
It was the weekend. There was snow on the ground and a big roaring open fire in the Green Room. Mother was talking to Mrs Dalrymple about a forthcoming séance. The news is the family of squirrels had moved house and their entrance/exit blocked up. No doubt they had moved house to the southern turret. At least they will not interfere with Mrs Dalrymple’s efforts to contact ‘our dear departed’.
My own personal opinion, for what it is worth, is that mother should stick to bridge parties and leave the dead to their own devices.
The news from Ruthin Castle is that Colonel Carter-Brown has managed to domesticate the orphan fox cub and he is now sleeping in the kitchen; that’s the fox, not the colonel. His wife said she will not allow him to sleep on the bed either. Again that’s not the Colonel but……oh never mind it doesn’t really matter, don’t worry about it, it’s not important………frankly it’s neither here nor there.
No comments:
Post a Comment