Letter 12
09/01/23 14:29
My Dearest Bunty,
I know you can hardly wait for the next instalment of my Yuletide woes, so I am writing this before I receive your reply to my last letter. I was I have to say most excited and elated about the events running up to Christmas Day but seeing the shame on my beloved Sir Hector's face was becoming too much to bear. His sister really is a rum sort you know and now all the Estate knows that young Fraser is a bad sort. Where he got hold of the drugs I shall never know. Perhaps it would have been best if he had been caught with them on the flight from England and could be in therapy as I write, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the purchase was made here in the village. I shall be having a word with the Vicar and the Minister to see if they are aware of drug taking going on. It has to be stamped out you know as it could lead to anarchy and disrespect. I blame nobody for this at all. I am nothing if not enlightened, but I well remember the brother of that Carmody girl at Cheltenham going a bit 'native' in North Africa just after the war with the easy access to drugs of all sorts in the French Colonies, need I say more? Even that little problem you had some years back with those diet pills from the charlatan doctor in Harley Street is nothing in comparison with this, and you did manage to maintain your figure a little longer because of it.
On Boxing Day our relatives took a brisk walk with the dogs, probably keeping out of harm's way and to clear their befuddled heads no doubt. I am disappointed in young Margo, she showed much promise when younger but after the slap she got from such poor results in her GCSEs or whatever you call the examinations in England these days, she has seen her opportunities diminish somewhat. She now says she would be happy to work in Liberty of Regent Street of all places. Can you imagine? Thankfully she does not carry the family name with her, as I would be totally ashamed to have her recognised by someone we know. That is the ultimate social fall.
I must say that Christmas was not a good one as the snow did not last and I missed some opportunities to go out with the dogs as I spent far too much time calming Cook down from the events of the previous week and buttering her up to stay a while longer. Where are we going to find someone to replace her and her glorious creations from the kitchen? I have to say I have never spent as much time in the kitchen and pantry as I have in the last few days, but it all seems to have worked. Sir H had the mad idea of improving Cook's pay and conditions, but I soon put paid to that idea as that would mean everyone on the Estate wanting a pay rise and we are not made of money you know. After all, Cook is living in the Dowager Wing of the House these days and has it free of charge at that! What more could she possibly want? I have spoken to Catriona about this and she says that Cook wants to retire and move to Bournemouth to be near to her own children, but after working for us for twenty-five years it is going to be a wrench for me to see her go.
Can you imaging me placing an advertisement in the local paper for a cook? Or worse in the Labour Exchange?
Such a bad time of year to be looking for staff, if it were in the Summer months I would have little hesitation in getting one of those needy students from the Hotel School in Glasgow to come and work here. It would look great on their resume in any case and I pride myself in being able to write glowing references if merited. It looks as if we will have to move quickly to replace Cook, though, as she asked me for access to my computer the other day to purchase a flight to Bournemouth International and I have to say I never realised there was an airport there! It looks as if I will not be able to change her mind!
Yours as always, Flora
This story first appeared on www.panetwork.co.uk in 2004
I know you can hardly wait for the next instalment of my Yuletide woes, so I am writing this before I receive your reply to my last letter. I was I have to say most excited and elated about the events running up to Christmas Day but seeing the shame on my beloved Sir Hector's face was becoming too much to bear. His sister really is a rum sort you know and now all the Estate knows that young Fraser is a bad sort. Where he got hold of the drugs I shall never know. Perhaps it would have been best if he had been caught with them on the flight from England and could be in therapy as I write, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the purchase was made here in the village. I shall be having a word with the Vicar and the Minister to see if they are aware of drug taking going on. It has to be stamped out you know as it could lead to anarchy and disrespect. I blame nobody for this at all. I am nothing if not enlightened, but I well remember the brother of that Carmody girl at Cheltenham going a bit 'native' in North Africa just after the war with the easy access to drugs of all sorts in the French Colonies, need I say more? Even that little problem you had some years back with those diet pills from the charlatan doctor in Harley Street is nothing in comparison with this, and you did manage to maintain your figure a little longer because of it.
On Boxing Day our relatives took a brisk walk with the dogs, probably keeping out of harm's way and to clear their befuddled heads no doubt. I am disappointed in young Margo, she showed much promise when younger but after the slap she got from such poor results in her GCSEs or whatever you call the examinations in England these days, she has seen her opportunities diminish somewhat. She now says she would be happy to work in Liberty of Regent Street of all places. Can you imagine? Thankfully she does not carry the family name with her, as I would be totally ashamed to have her recognised by someone we know. That is the ultimate social fall.
I must say that Christmas was not a good one as the snow did not last and I missed some opportunities to go out with the dogs as I spent far too much time calming Cook down from the events of the previous week and buttering her up to stay a while longer. Where are we going to find someone to replace her and her glorious creations from the kitchen? I have to say I have never spent as much time in the kitchen and pantry as I have in the last few days, but it all seems to have worked. Sir H had the mad idea of improving Cook's pay and conditions, but I soon put paid to that idea as that would mean everyone on the Estate wanting a pay rise and we are not made of money you know. After all, Cook is living in the Dowager Wing of the House these days and has it free of charge at that! What more could she possibly want? I have spoken to Catriona about this and she says that Cook wants to retire and move to Bournemouth to be near to her own children, but after working for us for twenty-five years it is going to be a wrench for me to see her go.
Can you imaging me placing an advertisement in the local paper for a cook? Or worse in the Labour Exchange?
Such a bad time of year to be looking for staff, if it were in the Summer months I would have little hesitation in getting one of those needy students from the Hotel School in Glasgow to come and work here. It would look great on their resume in any case and I pride myself in being able to write glowing references if merited. It looks as if we will have to move quickly to replace Cook, though, as she asked me for access to my computer the other day to purchase a flight to Bournemouth International and I have to say I never realised there was an airport there! It looks as if I will not be able to change her mind!
Yours as always, Flora
This story first appeared on www.panetwork.co.uk in 2004