No 53 - Miss Polly's Academy of Dance

 

Miss Polly’s academy of excellence; Happy Feet

Junior Class

Miss Frenzi was explaining the rudiments of algebra when Tamsin whispered “Why are we learning this stuff if we are going to be dancers when we leave college?” Actually, that comment was a continuation of a conversation we previously had discussing taking dance lessons at Miss Polly’s Dance Academy of Excellence, Happy Feet in Watford.

It was the high kicking that appealed to me, you know burlesque stuff. Miss Polly also taught classical ballet and tap dancing. Fortunately, she did not teach hip hop, jitterbugging, people spinning on their heads and foreign dancing like cha cha, rhumba, paso doble and stuff. We could have both joined a gym, an assault course or the S.A.S if that is what we were looking for.

Miss Polly said before we learned the rudiments of ballet and the 5 basic feet positions we had to learn to ‘walk properly’.

After putting my costume and my ballet shoes on and not wanting to appear catty, I was concerned Tamsin looked a bit heavy on her feet to be a dancer. No doubt she was thinking the same thing about me.

Anyways, as I held onto the barre with my left hand and raised myself up onto the balls of my feet and delicately extended my right arm like a droopy, tired albatrosses’ wing, Tamsin who was standing behind me whispered that I looked more like a baby elephant learning to walk for the first time.

I suppose she thinks that is amusing.

At the end of the lesson, my feet and ankles were really tired. I just wanted to sit down. What was even more disturbing was that I found out there were more than 5 feet positions. We had actually paid money for this.

I have had enough of ballet; perhaps Miss Polly will teach us burlesque and high kicking or even tap dancing and other stuff, or even formation dancing which might be difficult with only two of us and stuff like that next week. We will give Miss Polly one more chance though.

Tamsin and I were not going home for the weekend so this evening 6 of us was going to the folk club in the high street. Rebecca, Tamsin, Phaedra, Candice that’s Candice Robertson, Rhonda and me. On arriving at the folk club we found Nathan full of himself.

He could not wait to show us a picture of his folk group “The Sheriff’s Men” which was featured on the front page of the Watford Observer alongside a photo of a trampoline team representing the Royal Masonic School for Girls who were to take part in a trampoline competition somewhere or other.

Nathan’s latest girlfriend, the one he recently broke up with, what’s her name Tara O'Flaherty or was it Sarah O’Flattery, certainly wasn’t Tiffany, is also in the RMS team, no doubt carrying the extra weight advantage needed to hold the trampoline/s down.

I cannot remember too much about that evening other than Nathan announcing that the first number of the evening would be ‘Where had all the Flowers Gone’’ for the oldies. I groaned. Candice surmised ‘surely by this late hour of 7pm all the oldies would have been at home, with their teeth in a glass, in bed with their bed caps on, for heaven’s sake’.

I did tell Nathan once that Peter, Paul, and Mary do not perform anymore. Perhaps he should invite Elton John round sometime.

Rhonda promised she would not get up on the stage and sing as she did on the last visit. You may remember a drunk was blowing strawberries at her. Hang on perhaps it was raspberries and was ejected; the drunk, not Rhonda.

I am not sure where I am going with this story as Rhonda did not get up on the stage to sing, no-one was thrown out, the kitchen did not run out of malted milk and Nathan told us he had learned a new chord. It was an E. Hang on I, tell a lie. It was E minor.

I should add Tamsin was on her best behavior hoping to catch the eye of Gregory…. er thingy that collects the money at the door. That was Saturday night taken care of.

Those boarders who were staying in the college over the weekend were required to attend Pastor Dickie’s Sunday morning church service in the school chapel. In the afternoon some of the girls watched television, others played table tennis in the games room or read in the library. Any or all of which were better offers than watching a CD of The Terminator with Tamsin.

Monday morning and Mr Crisis was taking science for the first lesson of the day. I thought he might touch on the Beginner's Guide to Quantum Physics, I hear a lot of talk about it these days. You may remember I told you once he applied for the job of science teacher when Miss Cribb resigned to get married.

The girls reckon Miss Sefton the headmistress only employed him only because she thought he was homeless, but I never believed that. He told us in confidence he was from Zeta One Reticuli. Hang I tell a lie, it was Zeta Two Reticuli. No, it was Epsilon Bootis.

Look it’s unimportant, neither here nor there. He also said life on this planet was a hologram so I asked him “Where am I then?” He replied ’’in the classroom Bridgette but it is not true reality”.

I was confused, even perplexed. Candice noted I had a frown on my face for the whole of the afternoon.

I think I may have mentioned a long time ago that Rhonda, my third best friend, received food parcels from her parents. She is still receiving regular food parcels. I remember at the time thinking perhaps this generosity was atonement by her parents who mistakenly thought they had accidentally booked their daughter into a Russian gulag. Well, it wasn’t as I found out later. She just has a vicious appetite.

It was the end of the month, ‘Uniform Day’. Normally the shop was open three days a week. It was also responsible for ordering new uniforms for the students, the repair of and the exchange of said uniforms. The exchange option was for girls who were growing quicker than anticipated. None actually shrank. Excuse my levity it’s been a long day. This arrangement suited mother as she never learned to sew.

I would like to add my sister Bridie never learned to sew before I came along, except I never did have a sister.

Tomorrow I will ring mother. Oh I must mention about the piano.

No 52 - Charlotte's Letter

                                                                                                                  

     Charlotte’s Letter

  

Look, I don’t want to make a big song and dance about this so I will get to the point. You might remember mother took in Mrs Rutherford’s cat when she sold the bakery. The cat was to keep the mice down in the ‘Bakers Dozen’, the name of her shop in Inveraray Village. Not that she was particularly troubled with vermin but Mrs Rutherford said she used to see the odd mouse.

Why some mice appeared odd and others didn’t defeats me and I regret never asking her to explain.

Anyway, she called the cat Lorraine, the name of her sister, which I thought was a silly name for a cat and I was going to change it to Pollyanna but as Tamsin pointed out it won’t recognize its new name if it was changed at this late stage, so it was stuck with Lorraine.

I will get to the point in just a moment. At Inveraray Castle, we are not troubled with mice although squirrels in the roof are somewhat of a nuisance.

It all started when Lorraine the cat (I hate using that name) brought in a dead mouse one weekend when I was home and Tamsin, Charlotte and Phaedra were staying over.

Tamsin pointed out “the cat had only brought the mouse into the castle because it was dead, like out of respect”.

Phaedra noted, “It is more than likely the cat, that’s Lorraine, killed it and had brought it into the castle to show off.”

Tamsin broke in “Because there was no blood on the mouse, it must have died of a heart attack or maybe a stroke”.

Now that makes perfect sense, but there again I don’t know for certain if mice are prone to heart attacks brought on by the narrowing of the arteries or lack of exercise and things of that nature. It certainly did not appear that its demise was brought on by a stroke or even suddenly reaching old age. Nevertheless, I felt very sorry for the mouse.

I suggested to Tamsin “Why don’t we bury it and send it to Valhalla or wherever mice go on death with some vestige of dignity”.

We were both in agreement.

Mother suggested we just put it in the garden and mentioned words like compost and rotting. I shuddered.

Father had no interest in the mouse whatsoever which I thought was rather strange as he really likes finches and ferrets and things.

Tamsin suggested if it were to be sent on its way with dignity, it deserves a name. Names like Mickey and Maurice were suggested. We mulled this over for a while and decided giving it a name at this late stage was a bit silly so we did not proceed with that idea. I reminded Tamsin it was her idea in the first place.

We reached a consensus on the mouse’s funeral arrangements. As we stood on the bank of Loch Fyne I turned to father and quietly whispered “Father please feel free to launch the mouse on its watery journey” he declined.

It was Tamsin who finally launched the mouse in an empty plastic bottle …... er the mouse was in the bottle not Tamsin, from the banks of Loch Fyne just in front of Inveraray Castle with myself, Charlotte, mother and father also in attendance.

There was no formal farewell as such but we gazed silently with sad hearts as it floated gently down the loch. It goes without saying it would take quite a while for Mickey, or whoever, to reach the open sea.

About 2 years later I think it was, on a beautiful calm, cloudless sunny day with little or no wind if I remember, we received the news that the mouse had made landfall off the east coast of Canada.

Included in the plastic bottle had been a lovely handwritten note by Charlotte saying the mouse had no name but would be sorely missed, by whom she didn’t say, and other comments like ‘Now resting in God’s care’ and a couple of words of French she knew, like ‘Bon Voyage’.

The story made the Canadian National News and was warmly applauded by the animal rights people. The news said the mouse was eventually buried with the dignity and respect it deserved and frankly that’s all we asked for.

As an aside and being brutally honest, although Charlotte’s farewell letter was OK, I didn’t think it was ALL that great but Charlotte reckons she was good on obits, so be it.

It was suggested by father it would have been much kinder if they had put a couple of holes in the plastic bottle first before sending the mouse down the loch then it would have reached Valhalla much earlier. Mother was still talking about the garden and compost and things.

Now for some other news I wanted to tell you about. Mother and Mrs Dalrymple have taken up an interest in hypnotism which makes a change of trying to make contact with ‘our dear departed’ which neither of them was making much headway with.

It was Mrs Dalrymple who talked mother into doing an online course of hypnotism, probably explains why she is fondly known by the locals as the mad lady. Nothing Mrs Dalrymple does surprises me anymore.

This was going to be very interesting.

I said “Mother, don’t rely on Mrs Dalrymple too much. You should make sure if it’s possible by getting advice from the hypnotist people or practicing in front of a mirror as you could find yourself in a permanent trance-like state without knowing it”.

That was not the extent of my worry as I heard Mrs Dalrymple discussing with mother that they could probably practice together putting each other under at the same time. The problem as I saw it was if they were successful they would not even know they were in a trance.

It was the glazed eyes of Mrs Dalrymple that gave me the first clue, coupled with her unusual behaviour like stroking the back of mothers hand at the dinner table and again in the garden, and asking ‘are you getting sleepy’, that something had gone awry with the hypnotist thing.

I asked mother what had taken place during the hypnotism practice. She said she can’t remember much other than she has this urge to bark and chase cars all the time.

Oh No, this was an emergency thing!

We may have to seek the help of Mrs Pasta, the Italian kitchen lady, for some advice. She reckons she is psychic and sometimes aids as a back-up when mother and Mrs Dalrymple are endeavoring to establish contact with ‘our dear departed’.

Mrs Pasta sat both Lady Delilah, that’s mother, and Mrs Dalrymple on chairs in front of her in the saloon and removing a necklace with a small cross from around her neck swung it back and fore in front of them and intoned “you are getting sleepy, you are getting sleepy, you are….. etc. etc.”.

My thoughts were “Oh God here we go again”...

No 51 - Beecham's Passing

           

    sT. cONAN'S kIRK    

         (Beecham’s passing R.I.P) 

The more astute and/or keenly observant of my gentle readers might note this is NOT a photo of Inveraray Castle but the Kirk at Loch Awe. In addition, for those of you out there that Scottish Gaelic is not your first language, translated it reads as LOCH AWE CHURCH and it just happens to be up the road from my best friend Tamsin’s house.

Actually, Tamsin asked me to head this with a picture of her home, the old Presbytery at Loch Awe. I told her I had already given the presbytery exposure when I headed another article with a picture of her house. I said unless her parents were going to put their house on the market, once is enough. My blog is not a property marketing machine.

I reminded her that a particular article was titled ‘Putting Rumours to Rest’ and I had titled the article with a picture of her home reading ‘Tamsin’s Home; Awe Grange Presbytery’. I cannot do more than that.

Anyways that piece of information may not be all that important if it does not concern you.

To bring you all up to date the fire drill was scheduled this morning at exactly 10am for the all of Denham Hall college students. Briggs and Nurse Mayo were to lead the permanent boarders out of the dormitories. The fire was staged to have started in the college kitchens.

Tamsin questioned, “Do fires normally start ON the hour as a rule and, if not why doesn't the college arrange to start the fire at say 22 minutes past the hour or even two minutes to the hour. You know what I mean, just to surprise us girls”.

Tamsin is in fine form this morning.

Fleetingly I thought one day when Tamsin leaves college her parents or future husband, heaven forbid, are going to have to put up with this stuff full time.

Tamsin continued saying it would have been far more realistic and exciting if the college had hired a couple of the Rickmansworth’s fire engines with the sirens blaring and had firemen actually reeling out hoses and climbing ladders and things. She is practical, I must say.

I sometimes wonder when Tamsin is being really serious or when not. She went on to say extra realism could be added by starting a small fire in a dustbin next to Nurse Mayo’s quarters outside the swing doors at the end of the Pankhurst dormitory.

She said there would be no need to use real water. The firemen only need to pretend to use real water by making water noises by going ‘Shhhhh’ pretending to hose the front of the building down. You know, like doing pretend water noises.

I explained to Tamsin this was not going to be the making of a full-length documentary but a fire drill and the girls will just be congregating at a pre-determined point where Briggs will lead them quietly out of the building.

I have some disturbing news for Mr and Mrs Lacey, Tamsin’s parents, she won't change.

But I do have some good news for my gentle readers, the drill went off without a hitch and all the girls were evacuated safely from the building and were all accounted for at a roll call in the quadrangle.

The drill also took care of an hour of ancient history.

Now, where was I? It was Saturday and I was back at home at Inveraray Castle. Tamsin my best friend had gone home to the presbytery and we were meeting again the next day. On Monday morning we would be driven by Andrew to Oban to catch an executive jet courtesy of father, and ferried back to Stansted aerodrome in time for lessons at Denham Hall on Monday morning. This was the typical routine of my weekends.

You may remember I mentioned earlier the comedy of mother and Mrs Dalrymple’s efforts to do an online hypnotist course which did not work out too well for either of them. I did warn them of what could happen. I explained all this in a previous article.

I thought that was the end of the matter until Mrs Pasta, the Italian kitchen lady told me that tourists arriving this week could avail themselves of a lecture ‘Banishment of Ghosts and Wraiths’, a one-off session, informing them of the castle’s resident ghosts.

Personally, I could not see the point as Inveraray Castle, at the last score, has at least 6 in-house permanent ghosts which is a great draw-card for tourists anyway. Not that the wraiths and ghosts appears on cue but banishing them would be self-defeating, in that it would see a huge drop in tourist numbers.

I did not hesitate to alert the castle manageress lady, hoping she would speak to father and inform him what is going on and to advise Mrs Pasta, Mrs Dalrymple and his wife Lady Delilah, that’s mother, to put an immediate halt to this trio’s adventures.

The intervention of father made no difference. Lady Delilah makes the rules in this castle thank you very much. Nevertheless putting father’s concern at rest I explained to him it probably did not matter as they had made no headway with their online hypnotist course either. Father was placated.

It was Sunday morning and I was at Tamsin Lacey’s home at the Old Presbytery at Loch Awe. When we entered the study her father was busily cataloging his cigarette card collection. Mrs Lacey inquired if we would like a glass of lemonade and a muffin.

It was in the afternoon, we heard the sad news Beecham, the family retainer at home, had died. He had been with us since like forever, as had his father before him. He was ‘family’ also. He was my special friend when I was growing up; to me he was Uncle Beecham. They used to live in the gate-house until the stairs got too difficult to navigate.

His death did not come as a surprise. He had been ill for a short time. His wife Symphony told mother he had died peacefully in his sleep. Funeral arrangements had already commenced. Father said Symphony can continue to live in the grace and favour residence permanently.

I wonder if the ‘bagpiper’ had been heard playing when he passed away.

Tamsin’s home, the Awe Presbytery was within walking distance of Saint Conan’s Kirk which was just up the road from the Corrie Bank bed and breakfast so we decided to walk to St Conan’s and take photos for our Facebook pages. I don’t think they do brass rubbings or stuff like that.

Passing the sign reading ‘St. Conan’s Kirk, Historic Building’ I wondered if the gatehouse would ever come up on the market besides thinking what a lovely place to live, right on the loch. Oops, it’s now a tea room. Missed my chance there.

Briefly, the church was built by a local wealthy laird. They say he was an amateur architect by the name of Campbell who built it for his mother to save her walking too far to church; what a lovely thought. As I see it he built it to a design in his head as to how he thought a Kirk should look like. I would give him nine out of ten.

There were no opportunities for brass rubbings of King Robert the Bruce effigy, nor had there ever had been. So it was back to the presbytery and a continuation of Tamsin’s piano lessons.

No 50 - Bruce: Lost and Found

Bruce; Lost and Found.

Look I meant to relate this story earlier to my gentle readers; it concerns a parrot. Well actually as we found out later it was a pink cockatoo. It did say on the poster it was friendly. This happened during the long Christmas break. Tamsin, Phaedra, and Candice who has just had her teeth braces removed; that’s Candice I am referring to about the teeth braces if there is any confusion, had also been invited to stay with us at Inveraray Castle.

Anyways one afternoon Phaedra, that’s Phaedra Gascoigne, went into Inveraray village to buy a new collar for Colonel Carter-Brown’s pet fox Reynard as a late Christmas gift, and to her surprise saw this pink parrot bird sitting in a tree in front of the Inveraray Inn. I won’t go into all the details or you will think I am making this up. As you all know parrots are not native to Scotland, pink or otherwise.

Now if this story was being related by Mr Flowers the gardener to his wife Betty she would be asking how many pints had he consumed down at the George Hotel hostelry.

I asked Phaedra where she found the parrot.

She said it was sitting in a tree opposite the Inveraray Inn.

I asked “how did you get it down?”

She replied “I just called it”.

I inquired “called it what, Bruce?”

She replied “No, no I mean I beckoned to it”.

Candice quite rightly pointed out ‘but it would not understand what beckoning meant, would it?’

Mischievously I added, “that’s right Candice. It might only know simple words. You know what I mean, like who’s a pretty bird then?”

Irritated raising her voice, eyes opening wide Phaedra said “there is no need to be sarcastic Bridgette”.

She said it flew down from the tree and perched on her shoulder.

Candice asked “How do you suppose it got into the country?’’

I knew it would not take too long for Tamsin to enter the conversation.

Tamsin suggested “I guess it was when a pirate looking chappie wearing an eye patch came through customs at Edinburgh Airport with it sitting on his shoulder, and when asked if he had anything to declare he said “just the pink parrot thanks, and a bunch of bananas …for the parrot”.

Exasperated Phaedra said “For Heaven’s sake Tamsin”.

Phaedra realized very quickly this was not a wild Scottish parrot but the missing parrot that has been advertised in the town for the last week or so. I believe there is a big reward for the finder.

Phaedra pointed out the poster reads he answers to the name of Bruce.

Tamsin asked, “How does it answer, does it nod, tap its foot or what?”

A valid question I suppose, but Phaedra was not going to answer. It would only encourage Tamsin.

I looked around the circle and saw four of us; a quick calculation split the finder’s fee at 100 quid each. Heavens above, Phaedra would not want to quibble about this. She does have a reputation to maintain at the college.

To cut a long story short we got in touch with the owner who lived in Inveraray village and informed her that the parrot was in good health and being looked after at the castle. She said she would call in later………er hopefully with £400.

It goes without saying we were flush with money for the rest of the holidays. I might even save some for when we return to Denham Hall.

                                Photo. Michael Todd

Tamsin, who had stayed overnight with us as well as Phaedra and Candice was complaining to us when we got out of bed she had the ’runs’. Candice made a terrible, throaty rasping sound as if she was sicking up and looking at Tamsin horrified exclaiming “ER YUK, Tamsin you are disgusting”.

Visibly irritated, Tamsin haughtily replied “it’s not my fault Candice”.

There was nothing unusual on the kitchen’s menu that could have caused her stomach upset. I suspect Tamsin suffers from worms so I guess it was something Tamsin had experimented with.

So it was. I had told her previously I used to eat dandelion bulbs when I was much younger. I told her they tasted like radishes and added that dock leaves found near stinging nettles tasted like vinegar. It appeared she must have whipped up a salad of said ingredients and they must have disagreed with her, thus the ’runs’.

Which reminds me, at the dance with the Watford Grammar school boys recently she told ‘Chalky’ White that she had worms and that was a communicable disease?

Anyway the Pharmacist and Apothecary on Main Street East were normally closed on Sundays but mother said she had some pills which her friend Mrs Dalrymple gave her which she found in the back of her wardrobe a couple of years back and said - quote “they should do the job” Unquote. I am not sure why I put that is quotes actually.

Strangely enough they did seem to work. Maybe they really are for general bodily disorders like the tremors, panic attacks….or/and the ‘runs’.

It was a cold winter with lots of snow which kept the tourist at a minimum and for most of the winter break we did not venture too far from the roaring fire in the castle.

We spent a lovely cosy evening in the warm saloon with the Carter-Browns, Beecham and his wife Symphony. Father was talking about retiring again and mother and Mrs Dalrymple were discussing visitors from other planets …that is where I think Mrs Dalrymple dwells most of the time.

I am still giving Tamsin piano lessons of an evening in the concert hall after tea when the hall is usually empty, but she will have to go to a qualified piano teacher in Watford to tutor her for her ABRSM music exams as I am not a qualified piano teacher. Maybe she can use her share of the parrot reward money for the piano lessons. I reckon she is up to Grade Two Level.

Oh, just to keep you all up to date when I returned to shop where we found the poster of the lost parrot there was a new poster. Someone had posted a note about a missing turtle; it read its name is Tommy Turtle, strangely enough. I suppose if it had been a girl turtle they might have named it Thelma or perhaps Teresa. Poor thing, the poster said it was very tame and had a cracked shell.

I might see if I can get a photo of it for my readers out there that collect pictures of lost pets…as a hobby.

It was two weeks later back at Denham Hall, as I walked into the classroom, the first thing I heard was Jessica asking Elspeth had she ever wondered why rabbits don’t have belly buttons. Hello, I thought, I’m back. Perhaps Jessica should pay more attention to Miss Frenzi’s biology lessons.

Incidentally Jessica was not lacking in *THAT* department if you know what I mean and was told by Rebecca who was being sarcastic and rude suggesting that she should consider wearing a training bra. I thought ‘she can talk’. We are not ALL built like grasshoppers.

By the way as I told you, Phaedra has also started a blog and just finished her first story about a penguin. I hope she has a good imagination. All I can say is that there is not a lot one can write about penguins. Oh God I hope she hasn’t called it Peter.

I will get back to you all in good time.

No 49 - Denham Hall's Record of Excellence

    Denham Hall’s Record of Excellence is Challenged

      

First of all, I will bring everybody up to date. I may have told you this before but you could have probably forgotten. Tamsin has broken up with Nathan and both have gone their separate ways. That must have been at least two months ago and a huge relief for Tamsin, but this is where it starts to get really, really interesting.

I was told by Candice that Nathan from the folk centre, who had the hots for Tamsin for a long time, had broken up with his latest girlfriend, a girl that goes to the St Joan of Arc Roman Catholic School in Rickmansworth, near Wharf Street next to the station. I think it’s a grammar school. Candice reckons it’s a secondary school. Charlotte replied, “isn't that all the same thing?”

Anyways, Candice, that’s Candice Robertson told me Nathan’s latest girlfriend, the one he recently broke up with was Elizabeth O'Flaherty. Charlotte could not contain herself. I am not sure if it was cattiness on her part but she put her hand over her mouth and exclaimed in horror “ER YUK I KNOW LIZZIE, SHE WOULD GO OUT WITH ANYONE” with the emphasis on ANYONE’.

Well, it appears not so as she has just broken up with Nathan. Poor Nathan. I think I know someone who might be interested in him, no promises though.

In passing, I heard the St Joan of Arc Catholic school received a ‘GOOD’ report from Ofsted. Our report was ‘INADEQUATE’. The report said Denham Hall, despite its overall high academic and excellent achievements, was still ‘struggling’ with diversity which you might remember really upset our headmistress Miss Sefton, and even Miss Frenz, both of whom violently disagreed.

The examiners nevertheless were startled to discover, to their surprise and momentary elation, that the second language for most of the students was not English, the Evans twins and Eustasia Alexopulos being exceptions. However they were deflated to discover the main second language was in fact Latin, followed by classical Greek and French. Despite this, it’s report gave the college an ‘INADEQUATE’ rating.

Miss Sefton the headmistress was overheard muttering to Miss Frenzi about Government Quangos and things. She said their charter is the education of our children and suggested they, they being Ofsted, keep their noses out of social issues outside of education, issues that do not concern them.

She pointed out to this traveling government education woman that for over 400 years Denham Hall had educated students from all over the United Kingdom, daughters of royalty, the aristocracy and daughters of prime ministers and yes, even commoners from Ireland, the Isle of Wight and Wales.

Denham Hall Young Ladies College had a record of excellence decades before schools like Primary, Elementary, Secondary, Grammar or Comprehensive schools even existed thanks to its founder King George number two, and Miss Sefton emphasized Denham Hall was not ’struggling with diversity or anything else of that nature. Thank you very much.’

Anyway to change the subject, this evening saw the performance of the inaugural concert of the Denham Hall Chamber Orchestra or Rickmansworth Strings. Actually to be honest it was not so much a concert as a recital. The small group consisted of about 10 strings consisting of two violas, a couple of cellos I think it was, and double bass, but no wind instruments. Miss Franklin, the music teacher, was the conductor.

The group had only been formed less than 6 months ago so it was a brave thing to do to give a public concert so soon. The decision had been left up to Miss Franklin or Lulu as she affectionately known by the girls.

I cannot remember the half dozen pieces they played except Les Plaisir’s thingy and Hungarian Dance No 5. I think by Brahms. It was only a short performance that took place in the concert hall of about one-hour duration to give the orchestra experience of giving a public performance. The invited audience were teachers, kitchen staff, gardeners, Nurse Mayo, their friends and Briggs of course.

Tamsin had told Miss Franklin when the group was formed she wished to play the guitar, even though it was a string orchestra. Miss Franklin reminded Tamsin it was not planned to be an Appalachian Mountain Bluegrass Band and chose a violin for her. She is a fast learner. I was also teaching her to play the piano.

I realize this narration of my college life is a bit disjointed but there again so is real life. Candice, that’s Candice Robertson, who at present is my third best friend - no, she is my fourth best friend, Rhonda is my third best friend - is being fitted with new glasses, well, ‘fitted’ is not quite the right word. With the boarders, most things of a medical nature are the left to the responsibility of the college infirmary in agreement with the parents.

The glasses I believe are only a temporary thing; the optometrist said Candice has a lazy eye, whatever means. So she is having a new piece of plaster stuck over one of her lenses. I assume it is until her eye stops being lazy. The first clue that Candice’s eyesight was getting poor was when it was noted she kept bumping into things like closed doors and other students. I may have mentioned earlier Candice’s mother is the Lady Mayoress Molly Robertson. It was not that long ago she had her teeth braces removed … er, that’s Candice, not her mother.

Anyway, Candice asked Nurse Mayo if I could go with her to the optometrist. He had all this equipment for testing eyes and stuff which Candice had to look into. One machine was like a camera which went off with a big flash and it took a close up of her eye which was displayed on his computer.

Later we were both looking over his shoulder at the screen of the close-up of her eye. It looked revolting! It was all red with veins and stuff. Candice asked him if he could send her a copy of the photo for her Facebook page. I thought that was even more disgusting. Candice Robertson has no shame.

When we got back to the college the girls asked Candice what the optometrist did. “Did he just change the plaster on the lazy eye?” Maybe he should have put a plaster on both of her lenses, like do both eyes at once, just my suggestion.

I love Fridays because they are followed by Saturdays. Tomorrow Tamsin and I are traveling to Scotland to Loch Awe and I will be staying on Saturday evening with the Laceys, Tamsin’s parents. On Sunday we will spend at home at Inveraray Castle.

By the way, I was going to mention because no doubt you would have forgotten by now, that Tamsin now has 6 Facebook friends. She roped Zanthe in when she arrived at college recently. I did have six including Zanthe until it was pointed to out me by Tamsin that one of my friends was a bed and breakfast somewhere in Spain, Alicante I think it was or was it Benidorm, who knows?

Andrew the stable lad picked us up from Oban Airport and drove us to the Presbytery at Loch Awe. Tamsin’s parents were very pleased to see us all and Andrew was invited to stay the night and drive us to Inveraray Castle the following morning.

No 48 - Human Relations and Hedgehogs

                                                                                            

      Human Relations and Hedgehogs

It was the first day back at college after the Christmas break and the senior students were entering a new phase in their life and their education. It was our first lesson on Human Sexuality and the last lesson before the morning break. Miss Frenzi was not making much headway, fact is she actually appeared to be losing interest, and was just gazing vacantly out of the window across the quadrangle.

I am not sure why we were being introduced to this subject because as far as I know there were no relationships of a sexual nature, or of any other nature for that matter, taking place, well certainly not in Boadicea dormitory. I had the feeling the girls were not taking this subject seriously.

The giggling by Tamsin and Charlotte refocused Miss Frenzi’s interest. Her voice rose as she turned and inquired “Tamsin Lacey, Charlotte Patterson is there something you wish to share with the rest of the class?”

The giggling stopped. I think Miss Frenzi was becoming annoyed.

Candice intervened and raised her hand, at the same time looking squarely across at Tamsin and said accusingly “Miss, Rebecca told me she suspects Nathan has some sort of human relationship thing lined up for Tamsin this weekend behind the canteen at the back of the folk club”.

Tamsin fumed “that is not true Miss. It’s not like that. He is NOT my boyfriend”. She forcefully continued “someone is making it up and anyways it would be wishful thinking on his part”. She delivered these following words purposefully, slowly and loudly “*and * I * am* not * dating * Nathan*.”

Miss Frenzi paused, looked around the class and said quietly “It looks as though we might have to start this lesson in a more rudimentary manner; maybe with guinea pigs and rabbits”.

She raised her voice “we are not discussing dating here Miss Lacey. This is a lesson on Human Sexual Relations”.

Tamsin stood up, put her hands on her hips, swung her head from side to side like she does and replied “You can rest assured Miss there is going to be none of that sort of thing happening with Nathan and me down at the folk club this weekend. Thank you very much”.

Miss Frenzi replied quietly “I am not implying there will be Tamsin but you must recognize it when you are first confronted with it. Now girls, what do you understand about pregnancy?”

Candice raised her hand and replied, “Miss, I heard Daphne up the road being told by her mother she would not be in this pregnant condition now if she had not gone to Brighton in the first place, so I suppose Brighton’s got something to do with it.”

Miss Frenzi groaned and wondered if, utilizing a common idiom, the girls were ‘having a piece of her.’

Whatever the girls might say about Miss Frenzi she has stamina. Probably because she is of Italian extraction - you know what I mean.

I had a feeling we might be released into the playground early and I was about to be disappointed. I think Miss Frenzi might have capitulated, but I was not to be deceived; she does not give up easily.

It is just part of growing up I suppose and something else us 15-year-olds are forced to deal with but I am certainly not going to dwell on it. It seems Tamsin is a bit twitchy about these things. Nevertheless, she has certainly got the measure of Nathan.

Oh, I meant to tell you, I heard Nurse Mayo the duty matron is on the warpath. To bring you up to speed I told you a while ago there are 4 dorms. The junior girls are first housed in the Nightingale dorm and progress through Pankhurst and Victoria to Boadicea dorm, the senior’s dorm. There are 10 beds to a dorm, 5 a side although it is possible to squeeze another 4 beds in a dorm.

Now I will be honest, I knew nothing about this. It is all second hand. I was told about this by Rhonda. Anyways the story goes someone put a hedgehog in one of the girl’s beds in the Victoria dorm. It is hard to imagine the terrible fright young Naomi must have experienced after pulling the covers up around her neck to find something, or someone crawling up her leg. Nurse Mayo would be less concerned about Naomi wetting the bed but more so about animal cruelty.

This was a copycat thing. It had been done before in Victoria dorm quite a while ago but it had passed into Denham Hall folklore so to speak, or so we thought. Frankly, I cannot see where animal cruelty came into this at all. I will agree the hedgehog’s life may have been disrupted for a time but meanwhile it did experience a nice warm and dry environment……….while its life was being disrupted.

Anyways Nurse Mayo was not amused and Briggs was called in to remove it. Tamsin reckoned if it stayed say another day they could have given it a name, although determining its sex for naming purposes you must understand could have presented a bit of a problem. It could have even been the Victoria dorms mascot.

You will be pleased to know Zanthe is settling in well. You might remember I told you her father was in the circus before getting a job in Treasury. I like Zanthe; she could just make my second best friend after Tamsin. Phaedra had better be nice to me this year.

She is still struggling with her language skills. She is having special elocution lessons, Zanthe that is, but even so she has to be continually reminded that one does not say ‘its snot mine’ or ‘its snot important’ and expressions like ‘strike me dead if I lie’. She is not a fast learner, but I still like her.

Mother rang up in the evening and asked how things were going and that after the New Year’s Eve dance. Andrew the stable lad had taken a shine to me and had asked her when I might be returning home. I told mother to tell him I was already promised. Mother inquired “who to?” I said it doesn’t matter. It is not important.

Maybe I should push Tamsin to the fore here. On second thoughts maybe not after the Nathan fiasco. The last thing she wants is introductions with specimens of the opposite species. I am returning home to Inveraray Castle next weekend but I will be keeping a very low profile.

In summing up the hedgehog was returned to the wild. The wild being the garden area behind the chapel where I expect it will live out its life. The girls have been warned ‘no more hedgehogs in the dorms’.

No 47 - Hogmanay at Inveraray Castle

            Hogmanay at Inveraray Castle                                     

              

The New Year’s Inveraray Castle Ball was imminent. Tamsin, always one step ahead, asked me to make sure my mother rustled up a varied selection of specimens of the opposite species; by that I think she meant boys of the opposite gender. Andrew the stable boy and Raymond, Beecham’s son, would naturally get an invite and one or two of the kitchen ladies would no doubt have sons of Tamsin's age. Mrs Dalrymple I am sure could help here as well. I don't mean as a dance partner for Tamsin but rather a conduit for young males for Tamsin's inspection……and mine for that matter.

It was not to be a night of strictly gaelic dancing, although the evening would have a highland motif, so I dug up one of my Campbell Clan skirts for Tamsin.

A piper from Inveraray Village was going to pipe in the New Year. There had been a very limited number of bookings set aside for overseas tourists for this event made through the Highland Travel franchise in Inveraray village. Father had also taken on two or three temporary catering staff from the village.

Colonel Carter-Brown and his wife Lady Rowena were the first to arrive. Father asked Colonel Carter-Brown how the fox cub was settling in. He replied it appears to be paying less and less attention to the chickens. So that’s a good sign.

The castle manageress lady is still somewhat wary of Reynard since offering it a delicacy in the castle tuckshop to demonstrate to the Japanese tourists just how tame it was. She has only recently had the bandages removed from her hand.

The next to arrive was mother’s friend Mrs Dalrymple. She arrived by taxi although she only lives just up the road. She was all feather boas, beads and mothballs, carrying her little corgi dog. Must not leave poor little Salome alone on New Year’s Eve, must we?

As an aside we had a little dog much like Salome when I was very young. It died suddenly. Whenever we walk by Aphrodite’s grave mother reminds me of the day she was buried and that I was crying my eyes out. For heaven’s sake, I was only 5 years of age.

Over the grave, father recited the following simple words, which were also carved on the headstone. Maybe it was a poem from his childhood, who knows? Maybe it was a couple of lines by Tennyson; anyway I think it was meant to placate me. It did not help.

    ‘I will see you again.
    Oh, Aphrodite, this isn’t the end
    You’re my forever friend
    And I will see you again’
        Love Bridgette.

On a lighter note, the noise increased somewhat as Tamsin arrived with her parents. They then left to join my parents in the saloon. Tamsin’s parents were returning to Loch Awe at the end of the evening and Tamsin was staying for a few days as our guest.

Tamsin suggested that we make our way to the kitchen to see if there was anything lying around of a food nature.

Gentle readers, I suspect Tamsin suffers from worms. The good news is we found some cold sausages that were not earmarked for the evening. We dodged around the kitchen staff as they busied themselves with the evening preparations.

Mother refuses to have haggis in the kitchen; she says it might be New Year’s Eve in Scotland but there have to be limits.

By the time we returned to the saloon the piper had arrived, as had most of the guests. A couple of the boys made a beeline for Tamsin. Maybe her reputation had gone before her, no just kidding. Andrew sidled up to me but I did not want to give him the impression that I was desperate so I did not warm to him, well not immediately that is. There was a distinct lack of boys of our age but as Tamsin pointed ‘just how many do want at any one time?’ She had a point.

Drink waiters circulated, finger food was laid out on the tables and the dancing commenced with the tune Caledonia, followed by Flower of Scotland, followed by one or two jigs and reels. There was a pause when we thought we could make out the sound of a piper.

It was midnight.

Hands were joined as voices sang the most patriotic of traditional Scottish tunes Auld Lang Syne. Father gave a short speech about hopes and expectations for the New Year. Glasses were raised, toasts given and dancing re-commenced but in a more sedate, gentle fashion.

After attending the Inveraray Rabbit Show and now celebrating New Year’s Eve, Mr Crisis, our science teacher, admitted he found our customs most quaint. You may have forgotten but I did mention earlier, he is on a sabbatical from Epsilon Bootis or was it Zeta Reticuli Two. Wherever, it’s like 39 light-years from earth…… or so he says.

The rumor floating around college as he was only taken on by Miss Sefton as the science teacher because, although he appeared to know a bit about science, she thought he was homeless. He has been living in the caretaker's room since arriving although father has invited him to Inveraray on a number of occasions.

Mother and Mrs Dalrymple had found each other and father and the Carter-Browns were being mesmerized by Mr Crisis of other worlds.

Tamsin was not short of dance partners for the evening and for the boys Tamsin was the prize. It reminds me of the time she told Sebastian…….what’s his name, who she met briefly at the Inveraray Scottish dance club that she suffers from worms and that it was a communicable disease. Anyways she told him she is a boarder at a college in Rickmansworth and as he lived in Oban pointed out the impracticalities of him being her boyfriend anyways. Always thinking on her feet is our Tamsin.

So the proposition by Ricky…….er thingy, who earlier on was her first dance partner and had asked Tamsin if she would like to be his girlfriend, almost followed the same script. No Tamsin was not looking for a long-term thing at 15 years of age, getting her youth over was a grim battle on its own.

My partner most of the evening was Beecham’s son Raymond. He was a very quiet person; well he was always just there. I never felt as though I was being hunted, so to speak.

Besides Tamsin, my other college friends Charlotte, Rebecca and Phaedra had also been invited as guests later on in the Christmas break. Unless I stay on at college at the end of this coming year this could be my last Christmas break, but I suspect I will be attending Denham Hall until I am seventeen.

It was the early hours and the numbers of dancers on the floor were thinning out. The party was beginning to break up. Mother had invited Mrs Dalrymple to stay the night as our guest instead of returning home.

The Carter-Browns and the Laceys, Tamsin's parents, were in the hallway putting on their coats and saying goodbye to my parents and Mr Crisis, meanwhile, the kitchen staff was tidying up. I do not think Tamsin had made any regrettable arrangements of a semi-permanent nature with any of the boys or ‘creatures of the opposing species’, Tamsin’s description not mine, which was a big relief.

It was the beginning of the New Year. I was quite looking forward to being one of the seniors; Denham Hall was like my second family. I will miss it terribly when I leave.

No 46 - Christmas at Denham Hall

                    Christmas at Denham Hall

I overheard Candice, that Candice Robertson telling Myfanwy Evans one of the Welsh twins, about teeth braces and things. I think I may have mentioned earlier that the Evans sisters were Siamese twins, but that is not so they are identical twins. Anyways Candice spoke at length about the terrible isolation she experienced when wearing teeth braces, and boys would turn away from her in undisguised disgust. They would even refuse to make eye contact with her as though she was a leper or something. She was even forced to stop smiling.

Candice was always inclined to exaggerate. Nevertheless, it must be a terrible thing. She has had them removed now in time for Christmas, that’s Candice. It is Blodwyn and Myfanwy Evans who are about to have them put in…after Christmas.

I wonder why parents put their children through unnecessary torture such as installing stuff in their daughter’s mouths. It’s beyond me. Anyways it appears it was Blodwyn and Myfanwy’s turn to be fitted with one of these hideous contraptions and Myfanwy was asking Candice how long she was required to wear them.

Candice replied “all day”.

Anyway as I wrote earlier the twins were fortunate in that the braces were not going to be installed in their mouths until after the Christmas break.

Tamsin could not help herself suggesting “perhaps it’s a Christmas present from your parents.”

I remember the time Phaedra, that’s Phaedra Gascoigne, turned up at the Rickmansworth folk club one evening wearing earrings. Makeup was strictly forbidden at Denham Hall College, that included eye makeup but especially earrings and lipstick.

It was definitely a call out in front of the students at morning assembly if one was caught wearing earrings. We need not have been concerned. Phaedra was wearing clip-on earrings. Even so, although it was not a hanging offence, wearing lipstick would have been. There was a possibility of bumping into one of the teachers on the way back to college. I don’t think Nurse Mayo would have told on us if she saw us but she would have been asked us to remove them.

I remember when I first arrived at Denham Hall and Tamsin painted delicate looking earrings on my ear lobes with oil paints in really bright colours and I was called out in the playground by Miss Frenzi and told that real OR pretend earrings are not allowed at Denham College. It took quite a while to get the paint off as you can imagine.

It was Friday the 21st of December, the start of the 4 week Christmas break-up and a Christmas party for the boarders had been arranged in the huge dining hall. Most of the boarders will return home for Christmas. I knew at least 3 of the older girls who were about to leave college at end of the Christmas term.

Miss Sefton and Miss Pringle were present for the party but were to return home for the holidays. You may remember Miss Pringle’s mother died quite recently but she does have a sister living at home who owns a really big dog. The girls had clubbed together and bought a present for Miss Sefton, a 2020 Diary and for Miss Pringle a really expensive purse, an alert student noted her old one was falling to bits. The purchases were left up to one of the canteen ladies.

It was Friday lunchtime and as the girls made their way to the dining hall. They found it had been decorated with huge Chinese lanterns and colored Christmas tinsel and stuff. Briggs had sourced a tree from somewhere. Plates, glasses, and cups were laid out on the tables like in a restaurant with the addition of Christmas crackers. The kitchen staff had done us proud. Nurse Mayo from the infirmary had been seconded to take charge to keep order while Miss Sefton and Miss Pringle were relieved of all their college duties for the rest of the day.

There were two tables set for a total of 40 boarders, each with extra places set at each end of the table for Miss Sefton and Miss Pringle and places set at the second table for Briggs and Nurse Mayo. By the way, I don’t know for sure if Briggs has a Christian name. There was six kitchen staff on duty. It was not self-service this evening but waitress-service…….er by the kitchen staff.

In front of all the students was placed a very expensive, real leather-bound notebook with a colored crest of Denham Halls Founder George II. I guess the thinking was a diary would be out of date the following year but this was an expensive keepsake to remind the girls of their time at Denham Hall. Considering the fees our parents were charged the price was of no consequence.

Mother would have been hard-pressed to get the kitchen staff to serve up a Christmas dinner as we enjoyed that evening. Both Miss Sefton and Miss Pringle at the end of the meal stood up and gave a lovely end of year speech. It was a farewell also aimed at the students that were leaving the college wishing them every success in their future endeavors.

Tamsin was her usual noisy, excitable self, aided and abetted by Rebecca, Candice minus her teeth braces, and Phaedra, that’s Phaedra Gascoigne. The teachers were to have a similar break-up party in the teacher's common room tomorrow evening. I should make mention that my parents had invited Mr Crisis to join our family over Christmas. Father is mesmerized by his tales of other worlds. They have a lot in common, not that father is an interstellar traveller that is.

All my friends would be going home for the festive season although I will be seeing a lot of Tamsin as she only lives a half-hour away at Loch Awe.

It was Christmas day. I was up early to investigate the packages under the tree. Father had bought me a bicycle as a Christmas present which I thought was rather odd. It was sitting under the tree. I appreciate it would have been difficult to disguise. It may have been a subtle hint to me that he thought I might be putting on a bit of weight; I know Tamsin is. Mother’s present was much more practical. Gentle readers when I opened my present I was pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful watch.

I bought a book for father entitled ‘The Far Side’. It might give him some insight of life on other planets when talking with Mr Crisis. Perhaps I should have thumbed through it first as it could have been a treatise on life after death. Anyway if it is a book on life after death it will be a present for mother.

The Carter-Browns came round in the evening and they had bought me a thing called a Fitbit whatever that is. I suspect it had also something to do with exercise. Someone else obviously thinks I am putting on weight. I wish people would be more open about it.

I was not surprised to see Mrs Dalrymple arrive soon after the Carter-Browns. She was mother’s best friend who had been invited round for drinks and a social evening. I like Mrs Dalrymple; she is all beads, mythical symbols, and incense burners and things. The world needs eccentric people like her.

An evening had been set aside just after Christmas for the castle’s maintenance people like the gardener Mr Flowers and his wife Betty. You might remember Mr Flowers had joined the local Wassailing club in the village which Tamsin noted would have been the only one in Scotland, had it not been closed down by the police because of continued noise complaints. Then there was the loyal family retainer Beecham, his wife and their son Raymond.

Tamsin was arriving on Boxing day and was to spend a few days with us….maybe even longer. I bought Tamsin’s father, Mr Lacey, a new Clarinet reed…… for his Clarinet. It is difficult to know what to buy people for Christmas.

I cannot contain myself:

Whoopy doo!!! ……4 WEEKS HOLIDAY

No 45 - Denham Hall Legacy

Denham Hall Legacy

                     Given its Charter by George Second 

I have some terrible news for my gentle readers. I don’t quite know how to relate this but Miss Pringle the assistant headmistress is about to resign. It appears her mother is quite sickly and is unable to cope on her own and needs 24 hours of personal care and attention. Yes, Miss Pringle, who has been with the school like forever, almost as long as Miss Sefton, well at least 40 years.

Now it was King George the Second our founder that gave Denham Hall it's Charter way back in the 18th century’. There were already special places of learning for the sons of nobility and wealthy merchants when George realized there were no equivalent places for genteel young English ladies of similar refinement and social standing.

Well to be honest I do not know if it was George’s original idea or not. Alternatively it may have been because of pressure from his good Lady wife Caroline to do something about it quick smart or there may have been serious threats of on-going consequences, even very personal repercussions, if you know what I mean, if he didn’t. Mind you this is all conjecture. We will never really know.

It is going to be interesting to see who applies for this prestigious position. Miss Frenzi the sports teacher is a likely contender. Mr Crisis? Well, I don’t think he would even apply. Who is going to attend to the running of the college if he is suddenly called home to Epsilon Bootis or Zeta Reticuli two or wherever it is he calls home.

I do not think the music teacher Miss Franklin, or Lu Lu as she is affectionately known, will apply as she has only been with the college a comparatively short time so they may have to advertise outside of the college. Anyway enough of this speculation.

As it was close to the weekend and many of the girls would be home for the weekend a collection for flowers or whatever was not going to commence until Monday. I felt a terrible sadness pervading the college, especially among the boarders. I admit Miss Pringle was a hard taskmistress and she did have her moments of tension with Tamsin, as did all the teachers, but with Miss Pringle the next day it was usually forgotten. She will be sorely missed, that’s Miss Pringle not Tamsin.

At Inveraray Castle, mother was also very saddened to hear of the news of Miss Pringle’s resignation she thought very highly of her. We must not dwell too much on these sad events but look on the bright side and wish Miss Pringle’s mother a speedy recovery.

At the dinner table I asked mother what had happened to the castle manageress lady’s hand as it was heavily bandaged and no-one had made mention of it. The story goes she was in the castle teashop showing a busload of Japanese tourists just how tame Reynard the fox cub was and on offering this creature a slice of ham leftover from a ham sandwich it bit her.

Nothing serious you must understand. Reynard was taken to the saloon where there was much scolding, accompanied by lots of wagging of forefingers by Lady Rowena accusing Reynard the fox cub of being a naughty boy. That is the second time the castle manageress lady has been told by the castle teashop people he was untrustworthy and not to take her eyes off him. I am sure she will listen in future.

Tamsin again had been invited to my home for the weekend. Her home is only a half-hour up the road at the Loch Awe presbytery and her parents had also been invited for dinner this evening as well as Mrs Dalrymple and the Carter-Browns.

Tonight there were not enough guests to establish a game of bridge even though in desperate times I get roped in to make up the numbers, but not this evening, so Tamsin and I were about to retire to the saloon and leave our parents and their guests to enjoy a social evening. It will not be chopsticks on the piano this evening as I am teaching Tamsin to play the piano properly. Her mother is also sending her to lessons and surprisingly she is a quick learner.

As we were about to leave for the saloon mother asked “Well you pair, in just over a year you will both be leaving college. Have you thought about what you are going to do when you leave Denham Hall?”

I replied “I would probably become father’s secretary. ”

Mother asked “What if he has retired by then?’’

I said “Well he will still be writing emails, letters and things won’t he? And he will need someone to answer the phone so he will need a private secretary to attend to all his papers and stuff”.

Mother said “you could always earn some extra pocket money by offering to play the church organ when Mrs King is sick or on holiday, or play at dances, weddings and parties. Well at least it will keep you busy until you get married”.

I replied nonplussed “mother I am not planning to get married”.

She ignored my reply and turned to Tamsin.

“And you Tamsin?”

I butted in answering for her “She said she is going to join the SAS or become a container ships captain”.

Annoyed Tamsin answered “that’s not true Bridgette”. Turning to mother she said “I never said that. She just made that up”. I chose not to make comment.

The four week Christmas break was coming up shortly so no doubt Tamsin and I will be seeing a lot of each other. I will ask if father if Mr Crisis can stay with us over Christmas as his home is a million miles away. Father will not be going anywhere over the Christmas period and there is only part-time skeleton staff left at the Hall over the Christmas period. All boarders are expected to return home.

It is Monday and I am back at college. Gentle readers as I mentioned earlier there was some really bad news I had to tell you about but alternatively there is also good news. Miss Pringle’s mother died over the weekend that is the bad news. The good news is Miss Pringle will be officially withdrawing her resignation after taking a month bereavement leave. Denham Hall breathes again; I will ring mother and tell her the good news later.

Miss Frenzi meanwhile is filling the temporary vacancy of assistant headmistress. Miss Green the maths teacher from the day students 4B class has moved up and is filling in Miss Frenzi’s position. This is just to keep you all up to date. The withdrawal of Miss Pringle’s resignation was a huge relief for Miss Sefton, as you can imagine.

It is the Christmas holidays that are now the main topic of conversation in Boadicea dorm.

Whoopy doo!!! ……4 WEEKS HOLIDAY

No 44 - Tamsin's 15th Birthday

  

                                    

                                       

    Tamsin’s 15 th Birthday

Sorry I do apologise, I lost the photo I was about to post of Tamsin. I hope this will do.

It was a big day. It is a day that only comes round once a lifetime. It was Tamsin’s 15th birthday. I am a fair bit older.  I passed my 15th a couple of weeks ago.  Perhaps I forgot to mention it as I was home that weekend.

In Boadicea Dorm we were all about the same age anyway. I thought for starters I would invite Tamsin home to Inveraray Castle on Saturday, then if she wished, she could go home on Sunday to Loch Awe Grange to celebrate her birthday with her family. 

As it turned out the Lacey family had arranged for Tamsin’s birthday party on the Saturday at the Presbytery at Loch Awe. I had also been invited, as well as her next-door neighbours, Rosemary and her brother Richard. For Tamsin, this could turn out to be a two-day party as mother has also arranged something for her on Sunday at Inveraray.

Tamsin assured me there would be no children’s entertainer with rabbits and stuff; no magicians or ventriloquists at her birthday party. More importantly, her father was NOT going to play his clarinet. She said her birthday party was going to be a grown-up affair which is fair enough. I mean she is 15 years of age for heaven’s sake….er almost going on 16.

In passing, at college, Miss Pringle and Miss Sefton usually made a fuss of the girls on their birthdays and always announced birthdays at the morning assembly. Generally, the students leave Denhall Hall at around 17 years of age and then they go on to further education if need be.

Birthday presents from Tamsin’s friends were not going to leave her short of lollies and stuff for a long time. Candice gave her a lovely pendant and mother helped me fund a real silver ‘Language of Love’ bangle, well she is my best friend…….at present.

The following weekend I was at home at Inveraray Castle. I had invited Phaedra and ‘15-year-old Tamsin’ home for the weekend. It was like I had never been away. Colonel Carter-Brown and his wife Lady Rowena were already in the drawing room as was mother’s friend, Mrs Dalrymple. Disturbing though it might appear, mother and Mrs Dalrymple seem to have an unhealthy but common interest in contacting ‘our loved ones’ or our ‘dear departed’ or, as Tamsin says, ‘the dead’.

Oh, before I forget, first of all Phaedra Gascoigne told me she also is going to start her own blog. I asked her what the subject of her blog was about, as mine was life at Denham Hall. She said at this point she did not know. She is always quick to criticize my stuff so I will be quick to criticize hers. I pointed out to Phaedra my blog, in fact, is not far off a daily diary, is it?

It was Phaedra who suggested I got business cards printed up and suggested I ‘seed’ them at places like Macky Dees and Marks and Sparks, Tesco’s, bus stations, telephone boxes, waiting rooms and railway stations. I hand them to the postman, workers in the castle grounds, even to Japanese tourists to take home, in the shops in Inveraray village, in fact, all over the place just to help me drum up readership. I thought it was a good idea. Anyways I got a couple of hundred or so printed up. I suppose Phaedra will do the same once she starts her blog.

As a result of this I must tell you a story; well it is not really a story because it actually happened. I left a card advertising my blog on the notice board at Loch Awe railway station and when I went back a few weeks later my card was still there. Someone had left a lovely penciled note reading ‘I Love you, you are er… whatever. I left a reply, ‘Thank you for the lovely words. Us authors try to create an illusion. More stories will follow’.
 

I suspect a girl had left the note as my blog is aimed at young girls, unless it was a male of the species, like a gentleman who is trying to pick me up. If so I warn you now sir, these are business cards advertising my blog for heavens sake. I am NOT ‘seeding’ calling cards for Escort Services, thank you very much.

For those of you that might be interested, it is Kozłowski, the Polish Gamekeeper who is standing in for Beckett while he is on maternity leave, that's Beckett who is expecting his first child. If there is any confusion it is Beckett's wife who is actually expecting.

Later in the day Phaedra and I were looking out of the window of the saloon when we saw Mrs Dalrymple with mother carrying what appeared to be divining rods wandering aimlessly around the grounds at the back of the castle; trying something new perhaps? If there was water beneath our feet it might be because we are almost on the confluence of the River Aray and Loch Fyne.

It is not that we live in the Australian outback and are desperately looking for water. We have the River Aray which travels from, well wherever it comes from, and is within walking distance and runs into Loch Fyne in front of the castle which then travels down to the sea. I think it even has oyster beds in it and I see no chance of either of them ever drying up, both of them are full of fresh water. So I have no idea what mother and Mrs Dalrymple were up to and I was not about to ask father.

In the evening all three of us, that Phaedra, Tamsin and me  went back into the private drawing room where mother and father were taking drinks with the Carter-Browns. Reynard the fox was curled up asleep in front of the fireplace. I noticed they had purchased a new collar for Reynard with a disc with his name on it. Colonel Carter-Brown told father he is behaving less like a fox and more like a dog, so that’s really good news.

I must remind mother to get the Bechstein tuned.

No 43 - Rickmansworth Reminiscing

     Rickmansworth Reminiscing

So you ask what’s new this week. Well, Zanthe was told by Miss Pringle, our English that she needs elocution lessons and that Denham Hall was never intended to be an exclusive private college of higher education for circus performer’s daughters, but for daughters of families of substance, old money families, whatever that might mean.

Poor Zanthe. I like Zanthe so I have put her on my Facebook friends list; that’s driven my total up to four. I did have five friends but I discovered to my astonishment that one of my friends was a Bed and Breakfast place somewhere in Spain, could have been Benidorm, so I have un-friended them. Not sure what happened there.

Tamsin is very popular she has six Facebook friends. I will check with Zanthe later and see if she has any brothers or sisters, as if Tamsin has not already thought of that without telling me.

It was bath night for the girls of Boadicea Dorm. There were ten girls in a dorm, 6 baths in the bathroom, so five baths had two girls in each bath, one at each end. The rest of the week the girls took showers. It was a directive that came from…. well from somewhere, probably Miss Sefton the Head Mistress. She is always complaining about the girls wasting water. It is not as if she was paying the bill once a month.

I became conscious of the thrust of the conversation when I heard heated words being exchanged about underarm hair and stuff between Tamsin and Phaedra.

I missed the first words but as Tamsin stood up to get out of the bath she put her hands on her hips and haughtily retorted “There is no need to get personal Phaedra. If we are discussing underarm hair I do not have an over-abundance of male chromosomes coursing through MY system thank you very much”.

Phaedra inquired “don’t you mean testosterone?”

Tamsin answered irritably “yes and that”.

From my viewpoint at the opposite end of the bath to Tamsin I had to agree with her about her ‘personal hair’, but I preferred to make no comment …….er at this point.

Nurse Mayo, the duty matron, sat on chair knitting. Her job was to keep an eye on the girls and to keep some sort of order. After Tamsin’s outburst, she looked over her glasses and interrupted “alright, alright girls keep the noise down”.

Tamsin and I were staying in the college for the weekend or we would have waited and had a bath on arriving home.

Anyways it's strange how things stick in your mind. The next day, Saturday, Rebecca’s mother and father had arrived at the College for an interview with the headmistress Miss Sefton and while the interview was taking place Rebecca’s brother Gavin waited in the main hall. As a male specimen of the opposite species, the girls seem to be intensely interested in Gavin and found any excuse to travel via the concert hall and the locker room to catch a glimpse of him. Poor Gavin, he must have felt somewhat like a hunted animal.

Tamsin, like no show without Punch, also took an interest in Gavin and asked Rebecca if she could arrange a one on one meeting, which she did. Anyways later that afternoon when Rebecca’s parents were about to leave Gavin said to Tamsin he found her quite attractive and that perhaps they might meet again sometime. I think at this point Tamsin thought some sort of date might have been in the offing. Gavin then asked Tamsin if she could arrange a date for him with Charlotte.

Well, this is a story Tamsin told me. She was very rude to Gavin, no I tell a lie she was livid. There were no formal goodbyes as such, she just got up and left. Poor Gavin, you don’t mess with Tamsin. Anyways the last we heard Gavin was going out with a girl from the St Joan of Arc Catholic Girls School in Rickmansworth. Tamsin would say that’s his loss.

It was Saturday and those boarders returning home over the weekend had notified the front office so the kitchen staff could organize the number of meals required. This was arranged on Friday. Another important, hang on I almost wrote ‘law’, rule was those boarders venturing beyond the town center also had to notify the office of their plans and if they did not possess a mobile phone were temporarily issued with one and it HAD to be turned on. Saturday evening I was not returning home.

A crowd of us were going ice skating but it meant going to Hemel Hempstead so instead, we decided to go to the folk club in the high street. There were six of us, Tamsin, Candice, Rebecca, Phaedra, Charlotte and me. Rhonda couldn’t come, which was just as well as the last time Rhonda came she got up on the stage to sing and some drunken idiot kept blowing raspberries at her before he was removed from the club. You would not want to experience that twice.

Oh, I nearly forgot Elspeth was also with us and Tiffany was coming later. That more or less emptied out Boadicea dorm except for the two Welsh girls Blodwyn and Myfanwy; they are identical twins actually. There was a rumour they were born as siamese twins. I am not sure who started that rumour, probably Chloe Higgins again.

At the folk club, Nathan was being his usual annoying self. He had finally realized his close friendship with Tamsin was only in his mind and the possibility of his friendship developing into more of a ‘liaison dangeroux’ was never on the cards. I had a feeling Elspeth might be his next victim but with her lisp, Nathan might have trouble understanding her but as Elspeth confided to me when referring to Nathan - quote ‘I am not that thupid’.

The evening at the folk club was uneventful, not much to report really. The only highlight that I remember was heated words by Phaedra accusing Charlotte of sneezing in her coffee twice, while her attention was distracted. Charlotte apologized and said it was an accident.

Now I may have previously used the expression of ‘bold suggestions’ and it was one of these bold suggestions I write of that was telegraphed by Nathan to Tamsin that ended that little tête-à-tête, thank you very much. Anyways it was getting very silly.

Nathan’s band has changed their name again from ‘Melody Five’ to the ‘The Sheriff’s Men’

I ask you, ‘Sheriff’s Men’ in Rickmansworth? He lives in a dream world.

On second thoughts maybe we should have gone skating at ‘Planet Ice’ in Hemel Hempstead. I remember the last time we went it was Rebecca’s first time skating. She wisely held grimly onto the rail most of the evening but an hour or so later with a little bravado she tried letting go of the sanctuary of the rail and was picked up like a fish snared by a bait getting in the path of a passing skater and found herself totally out of control, with no brakes hurtling towards the center of the rink bringing down a half a dozen skaters in the process like a ball in a bowling alley. It hasn’t put her off though.

I should make mention Pastor Dickie wants us all to attend chapel tomorrow morning being Remembrance Day. Well, that about wraps up this week. Next week I am going home.