US Politics: Fuck this shit, what's next?
Jul. 4th, 2025 02:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Time to go have a party with a group of queer people who are similarly appalled, because we can't do anything but keep on going as our authentic, pissed-off selves.
What I read
Finished The Islands of Sorrow and it is a bit slight, definitely one for the Simon Raven completist I would say - a number of the tales feel like outtakes from the later novels.
Decided not for me: Someone You Can Build a Nest In.
Started Val McDermid, The Grave Tattoo (2006), a non-series mystery. Alas, I was not grabbed - in terms of present-day people encounter Historical Mystery, this did not ping my buttons - a) could not quite believe that a woman studying at a somewhat grotty-sounding post-92 uni in an unglam part of London would have even considered doing a PhD on Wordsworth (do people anywhere even do this anymore) let alone be publishing a book on him b)a histmyst involving Daffodil Boy and a not so much entirely lost but *concealed unpublished in The Archives* manuscript of Epic Poem, cannot be doing with. (Suspect foul libel upon generations of archivists at Dove Cottage, just saying.) Gave up.
Read in anticipation of book group next week, Anthony Powell, The Kindly Ones (1962).
Margery Sharp, Britannia Mews (1946) (query, was there around then a subgenre of books doing Victoria to now via single person or family?). Not a top Sharp, and I am not sure whether she is doing an early instance of Ace Representation, or just a Stunning Example of Victorian Womanhood (who is, credit is due, no mimsy).
Because I discovered it was Quite A Long Time since I had last read it, Helen Wright, A Matter of Oaths (1988).
Also finished first book for essay review, v good.
Finally came down to a price I consider eligible, JD Robb, Bonded in Death (In Death #60) (2025). (We think there were points where she could have done with a Brit-picker.)
On the go
Barbara Hambly, Murder in the Trembling Lands (Benjamin January #21) (2025). (Am now earwormed by 'The Battle of New Orleans' which was in the pop charts in my youth.)
Up next
Very probably, Zen Cho, Behind Frenemy Lines, which I had forgotten was just about due.
***
O Peter Bradshaw, nevairr evairr change:
David Cronenberg’s new film is a contorted sphinx without a secret, an eroticised necrophiliac meditation on grief, longing and loss that returns this director to his now very familiar Ballardian fetishes.
A quite heavenly refuge
She had thought this interview would be a deal more difficult than it was turning out to be – what an agreeable man was Mr Johnson! How very soothing his manner! – nothing at all of the sordid about the business.
Caroline Kirkstall glanced around the office as Mr Johnson perused the documents she had passed to him. Entirely inspired confidence – very well-appointed – fine polished desk – good furniture – comfortable chair in which she might be easy while explaining her situation –
Of course, the recommendation by Lord Peregrine Shallock conveyed a good deal of reassurance – understood his brother-in-law, the exceedingly wealthy Mr Grigson, had the highest commendations for the Johnson agency – one must suppose that dear Nehemiah Brackley would have entirely approved this course.
She suppressed a sigh. Wondered if he had quite imagined how besieged a very comfortably left spinster that was still in early middle years would be – see how well she kept house for him after her poor sister died –
Mr Johnson looked up. Why, I can make little enough myself of these prospectuses – should like to place 'em in the hands of our Mr Abrahams, that has a fine nose for smelling out dubious financial matters – is that agreeable to you.
That is quite exactly what I hoped – to place 'em before one that would understand the intricacies – for here these gentlemen come, hearing that I have come into a tidy independence from my brother-in-law, and tell me here is this very good thing that they have confidential knowledge of, would greatly repay investment, and I do not like to trouble my brother, that is a clergyman and somewhat unworldly – but I find myself in great need of advice.
Quite so. I will go put these in Solly’s hands, and I daresay you might care for tea?
That would come very grateful!
Really, it was like going to a really sympathetic physician, or mayhap what those of the Romish persuasion found with a father confessor? One’s worries not set at naught but one’s mind eased.
Mr Johnson returned with a tray of tea-things, offered that she might pour out, and disposed himself comfortably beside the desk.
Dared say Miss Kirkstall had other business in Town – oh yes, went to call upon Mr Brackley’s stockbrokers, and also Quennells over certain legal matters – for she had rather not, she confessed, go to Magson in Droitwich for somehow, one’s business got all about the town –
Mr Johnson gave a small chuckle and said, indeed!
– and this was hardly within Mr Johnson’s remit, but although she was at present staying at the Euston Railway Hotel with her maid she wondered about seeking rather quieter lodgings for the duration of her stay –
Mr Johnson beamed. So happens that one of my operatives happened to mention to me that there is a room in her lodging-house – that is very select – stands vacant for a short while as the usual resident has been ordered to the seaside by her doctor – would not wish to advertize –
So Caroline went to gather up Merrow, that had been sitting outside the office, knitting, and they were both introduced to Miss Hacker, a plain and sensibly-dressed young woman, that said she would be entire delighted to take 'em to view the room at Mrs Mitchell’s – quiet street in Marylebone – very respectable – excellent good table –
And both she and Merrow immediately noticed when they arrived, impressively clean, that was quite a feat in London. Were somewhat took aback to discover Mrs Mitchell black – but this was London and they had already noted several darker faces about the streets – and she was all that was welcoming.
Showed 'em the room – a good size – we might easily bring in a truckle bed, would not be cramped at all – discussed the rate – very eligible – mentioned that 'twas no great distance to omnibus stops, very convenient –
Above and beyond helpful!
The very next day they moved in – the very helpful odd-job man of the house helping carry the trunks &C – and Caroline was pleased to see Merrow a deal more at home here than she had found herself in the hotel.
The permanent residents of the house a very amiable set – sensible women about earning their livings – some of 'em in a most superior way – there was Miss Coggin that was a partner in a fine Mayfair modiste – Miss Hacker that besides working at the Johnson Agency did secretarial work for Dowager Lady Bexbury –
Fine tales over tea in the sitting-room, and doubtless excellent gossip belowstairs as well.
Was not long before Caroline came round to confide that, besides soliciting her interest in business propositions, she had a notion that certain of the gentleman in her locality were about establishing an interest with a view to courtship once she was out of mourning –
This was considered exceedingly likely!
Miss Hacker remarked that the agency did a thriving business in looking into prospective suitors to discover was they bigamists – in financial straits – keeping a mistress – give to high play - &C&C. Law, they could tell tales!
Miss Coggin recounted the story of a friend of hers that would have been beguiled by a scoundrel had it not been for Miss Hacker and the agency’s acuity.
Mrs Mitchell had suggested that though Miss Kirkstall might take hackney carriages about her various errands, there was a very well-run livery stable – employed several relatives of her own – would job her a conveyance at a very good rate, in particular was she taking one in a regular way.
And just like the lodging-house, the carriage that came for her first journey to the City was admirably clean, with the horses looking well-kept. The young coachman very civil – pointed out sights of interest along the way – handed her and Merrow down very punctilious – entirely deserving of a good tip.
Sure she was here about business but there was no reason why she should not take advantage of being in Town to see some of the sights!
One morn at breakfast, that she was sitting to a little late, Caroline was perusing Mogg’s New Picture of London, when came in Miss Hacker, yawning somewhat, remarking that had been about a commission that had took her out late, la, malefactors did not keep strict business hours alas.
Caroline smiled. Asked was it true that Mr Johnson had been a Bow Street Runner?
O, quite so! Was solicited to join the Detective Branch of the peelers, but declared that was too old a dog for that – even so, there are those there will still come consult him about tricky cases –
She drank off a cup of coffee and cut herself a slice of bread.
I mind me, she went on, before you go about your ways – she nodded at Mogg’s – Her Ladyship mentioned to me t’other day when I was at her house, that she supposed you would go leave your card on Lord Peregrine Shallock.
What? – is he not in Oxford?
Alas, there is still a deal of to-do following his brother’s death –
They both made sympathetic sighs and murmurs of poor boy.
– so remains at present with the Grigsons – his sister Lady Lucretia and her husband – in Belgravia.
One hears that is a very fine part.
O, entirely worth seeing!
Having been provided with the direction, Caroline ordered the carriage from Jupp’s, and decked herself in her finer mourning garments, that she had had some advice upon from Miss Coggin, and looking in the glass, felt the effect was exceeding good. While one should eschew vanity, one did not wish to look the complete provincial spinster!
Why, indeed, she saw out of the window, Belgravia was very fine! Merrow remarked upon the greenness of the squares – may not be the countryside, miss, but 'tis very pretty, is it not? Such houses!
The Grigsons’ was somewhat daunting – very large and splendid, well, one heard Grigson was exceeding wealthy and could afford it – and here was a liveried footman with a silver tray, for her card with the appropriate corner turned down –
Do you wait here, madame, while I see whether Lord Peregrine be at home.
Surely not, thought Caroline.
But he shortly returned to say that Lord Peregrine would be delighted would Miss Kirkstall come take tea –
Caroline looked around at Merrow –
The footman added that the housekeeper would be pleased to give Miss - ? –
Merrow.
– tea in her sitting-room.
So Caroline, feeling considerable nervous, followed the fellow along corridors – how lovely this place was – to a small parlour in which Lord Peregrine, in deep mourning, was sitting in the window-seat, gazing out at the square. He rose at once and came to take both her hands.
Miss Kirkstall! I am enchanted to see you! What do you do in Town? I hope it is no matter of coming to see some crack physician –
O, naught of the like, she cried, as she settled herself in the chair to which he gestured her, and commenced upon explaining her mission in Town. That indeed I am greatly indebted to your good advice for, for certain of the prospectuses are already shown up as very dubious matters.
Entered two footmen with a tea-service and a pair of well-provided cake-stands. Shortly followed by two ladies – the younger one, in mourning, that must be Lady Lucretia, and the other, considerably older, that –
Sometimes one looked at a lady of those years, and thought, she must have been a beauty in her day: but this lady was, still, beautiful.
Lord Peregrine, she said, pray make your guest known to us.
The Dowager Lady Bexbury! As well as his sister – had been about some matter to do with a purposed drawing-room meeting, that 'twas too late to cancel, or move elsewhere, but had found some solution.
Caroline made suitable condolences on the loss of her brother to Lady Lucretia, and the latter took charge of the tea-things – one observed that she and Lord Peregrine did not seem devastated with grief – Lady Bexbury came and sat in the chair adjacent to Caroline’s.
Quite the strangest thing – Caroline found herself quite unbosoming to her, that she had never met before –
How fretted she was going about the town – the speculations as to her relations with dear Mr Brackley – the interest in her fortune – a deal of gossip &C –
My dear, said Lady Bexbury, 'tis alas to be expected. Now, I have a little place not so distant from Droitwich – 'twas formerly a hunting-box but I have undertook improvements – am not using it myself at present –
Lord Peregrine interjected that he and his set had held a reading-party there and it was quite the prime place.
– a very amiable set about the mine and the village – would not be entire solitude –
It sounded like a quite heavenly refuge.
Well, in further conferencing misadventures, woke up around 5 am with what I came to realise was a crashing migraine - it is so long since I have had one of these as opposed to 'headache from lying orkard' - took medication, and after some little while must have gone to sleep, because I woke up to discover it was nearly 9.30, and I had slept well past the alarm I had set in anticipation of the 9.00 first conference session. But feeling a lot better.
I was only just in time to grab some breakfast before they started clearing it up.
The day's papers were perhaps a bit less geared towards my own specific interests - and I was sorry to miss the ones I did - but still that there Dr oursin managed the occasional intervention. There were also some good conversations had.
So the conference, as a conference, was generally judged a success, if somewhat exhausting.
I managed to get the train from the University to Birmingham New Street with no great difficulty.
However, the train I was booked on was somewhat delayed (though not greatly, not cancelled, and no issues of taking buses as in various announcements) and I initially positioned myself at the wrong bit of the platform and had to scurry along through densely packed waiting passengers.
Journey okay, with free snacks, though onboard wifi somewhat recalcitrant.
At Euston, the taxi rank was closed!!!!
Fortunately one can usually grab a cab in the Euston Road very expeditious, and I did.
So I am now home and more or less unpacked.
Given that Mercury is, I recollect, the deity of travellers, is Mercury in retrograde?
So he had undertook the task in somewhat of a penitential spirit, and was discovering it much more agreeable than his suppositions. Here was Heggleton not just a fine bustling manufacturing town with its prosperity built largely on cotton, but there was a deal of life about the place! An Institute – Assembly Rooms – societies for getting up concerts and choral performances – one of Lady Ollifaunt’s fine theatres – as well as a great number of improvement schemes.
Also a good deal of local society that was very welcoming to Sir Oliver’s grandson, particularly one that was in Society, had a sister that was lately married, a father that was part of an active coterie in the Lords on the side of reform –
Even more welcoming when he was discovered musical, for besides playing the bassoon, that he considered his instrument, Ollie was capable of sustaining a reasonable performance on bass fiddle or pianoforte. So there were invitations to informal gatherings to make music, and he just happened to have brought with him copies of some several of Zipsie’s compositions, that were greeted with extreme enthusiasm.
Sure, he was no innocent, he perceived that there were a number of young ladies who looked upon him as an eligible parti. Granda indeed commented upon it, with remarks upon what they would bring to a match –
I hope I am not the kind of fellow that would make that a consideration!
So do I, but do you like any of 'em, is somewhat to be took into account.
But was not all frivolity and flirtation – was being made acquainted with the business of cotton, that was where their fortunes came from.
Granda sighed, and deplored that one could not yet get by without some American cotton, though he did what he could – and revealed that as some salve to his conscience, sent a considerable sum to the di Serrantes in Boston – what a fine woman is Mrs di Serrante, the Quakers breed a very exceptional type – to disburse in various ways for the abolitionist cause.
Indeed one saw that Granda was not the brutal industrialist at all – had been twitted at first about the conditions in his mills, but had proved that not working the hands to exhaustion – having a school for children – light and air &C&C– came about remunerative in the long run.
So there was that – and Ollie began to see the interest in it all – but there would be a deal to learn!
There were also meetings with the political set in the town, for Heggleton was now a Parliamentary borough, and there was very like an election impending. Ollie did not entirely see that there was any cause for anxiety in the matter – 'twas a very solid Radical Whig seat – but over the course of various dinners, meetings of local societies and clubs &C, he came about to apprehend that there was another matter under advizance.
Here was Mr Oliver Parry-Lloyd, grandson of Sir Oliver Brumpage, son of Lord Abertyldd, that gave him a sound political pedigree – might he not, in due course, consider standing for Parliament? Ollie realized that 'twas quite a reasonable expectation. Had never given it thought before, but, indeed, had been hearing political discussion for some several years – ever since he was of an age to join the gentlemen in brandy and cigars after dinner – had observed Bobbie Wallace take to the business of being an MP quite like a duck to water –
So he attended to the conversations, and ventured an occasional question.
Granda clapped him on the shoulder and said he was glad to see that Ollie was not one of these young fellows that supposes he knows precisely how to set the world to rights, and will tell his foolish seniors in and out of season what they should be doing.
Why, said Ollie, have not give the whole matter the thought I should.
It also struck him that going into politics would manifest a seriousness that might, perchance, appeal to Thea? Or at least, impress her parents that he was no idle wastrel?
Oh, Thea.
Zipsie was a good sister that conveyed a certain amount of news in her occasional letters – well, one could not expect a new wife with all the burdens of that position upon her to indite lengthy epistles like one in a novel by Richardson! – even was that mostly about the music she and Thea were about. Certain songs by the late Miss Billston, that had been Lady Jane Knighton’s cousin, that Lady Jane greatly desired to hear once more –
But was Thea happy? Were her parents persecuting her for her religious inclinations? Were they advancing some suitable match?
It was during a ball in the Assembly Rooms for the benefit of the new hospital that he learnt intelligence that he hoped might be a good omen.
He had no idea how the conversation over the supper table had turned to that topic – had someone asked where he went to church o’Sundays? And that had got on to various parish squabbles – some matter of who would be appointed chaplain to the hospital – and a mention that this new vicar at St Oswald’s was said to have very High practices, positively Romish.
Ollie determined to go to at least one service at St Oswald’s to ascertain whether it might conform to Thea’s leanings.
But before the nearest Sunday he attended a performance at the local theatre. Was teazed by the resemblance of the actress playing Amanda in The Rivalrous Ladies to a young woman – well, had been a girl at the time – that had been wont to be among the merry throng at the Raxdell House parties for young people in the Ferraby days. But the name, he recollected – there had been a brother and a sister as well – had been Richardson and the name on the playbill was Miss Dalrymple.
One had never seen them elsewhere – but indeed, there was a considerable diversity to be found in the parties give at the Raxdell House Phalanstery! – Julius and Hannah Roberts were ever among the young guests, along with the Lowndes offspring – though sure one now saw Ferraby Lowndes received everywhere –
That had been a fine girl – not exactly pretty, but with a certain vivacity that made one overlook more obvious beauties – and had been some matters of boyish stolen kisses during Hide and Seek.
So here he was at St Oswald’s, that was to be found in one of the poorer parts of Heggleton – not that there were any actual slums – and being dutifully attentive to the service and the vicar’s practices, and observing that he had a decent congregation.
Was waylaid by the fellow on his way out, that was clearly a little surprized to see a fine gentleman – Ollie made it clear that he was only visiting – not sure how long his stay would be – felt disinclined to reveal his family connexions just yet –
When a hand came through his arm and a fine attractive female voice said, La, Mr Parry-Lloyd! What a pleasure to encounter you! Might I beg you to be so kind as to escort me to my lodgings?
He looked around and down, and seeing her closer he could not doubt that 'twas Rosalind Richardson – perchance had married? – though he saw no ring – and, blushing a little, said 'twould be an entire pleasure.
So they stepped away from the church porch, and once they had got a sufficient distance she gave a little ripple of laughter and said, had Mr Pringle been at him about work with the young men of the parish?
Ollie grinned. He had not yet quite got to that! Manly recreations to keep 'em out of places of low resort &C?
Quite so! But what do you in this place?
He explained the reasons for his presence. Mentioned that he had been to the play t’other night – praised her performance – had not been sure 'twas her, because of the name –
O, when I ran away to go on the stage, I determined to change my name so that there would be no odorous caparisons with Mama –
Lord, Richardson! that would be, Clara Richardson, only slightly less noted a thespian than Amelia Addington.
– so I took darling Papa’s name professionally, even am I not entitled to it in law.
Ollie came to a stock-still halt. Dalrymple – Danvers Dalrymple, his father’s old friend, that one had ever supposed a sad old bachelor that still dressed as if 'twere the days of the Regent – though still a fine hand on the cricket pitch – ?
I see, she said with an air of amuzement, that you are not apprized of their domestic establishment – are quite Darby and Joan – Mama would not marry and renounce the boards – they live most genteel and respectable with Grandmama and her pugs – a deal more genteel and respectable than many couples that have gone to church –
Do you not mind? Ollie enquired.
Why, Gods stand up for bastards! – I daresay there are stations I might aspire to where it might hurt me, but all I have ever wanted to do is tread the boards, just like my brother, that is now running a theatre in New South Wales.
They walked on a little way, coming to rather more respectable streets.
She said with somewhat of wistfulness that those had been wonderful parties at Raxdell House – but, she added, to his sympathetic expression, we did not go home to sleep in ashes! And here were her lodgings.
They shook hands and she went in.
He shook his head. The encounter had give him a deal to think on.
For hedjog is going floppp.
Travel troubles today: being unable to see where the hell the alleged railway station near hotel was, and taking a taxi instead; railway out of order this evening, Ubers were summoned to take participants to hotel.
Yr hedjog was Living Bit of History in opening roundtable.
And in later sessions, there was a certain amount of That There Dr oursin going on in the questions/comments....
Some good conversation - even if hearing aids not too helpful in crowded rooms - but have noped out from evening meal, feeling too tired, will go for light meal here and early night (I hope).
And had done exceeding well in making connexions for the chaps: there was Averdale, had been very gladly offered a post as secretary by Jimsie, and once had completed his term at Oxford, would proceed to join the Trembournes for the summer at Worblewood. Thornton was all enthusiasm about the prospect of tutoring the Yeomans orphans, and had already commenced upon certain commissions in reviewing. Wood had been invited to spend the summer assisting in the work of the parish at St Wilfrid’s, with the possibility of eventually being appointed a curate. And Smithers was going around quite in a daze having been offered a pupillage in Mr Geoffrey Merrett’s chambers.
Then, as they were contemplating their last few days, here came Mr Gordon Marshall, that was married to the governess at Yeomans, and a reporter for the Lowndes Press, and also, they discovered, the brother of that sensation, Clo Marshall, offering that he could arrange for 'em to attend her performance at the Beaufoyle Arms Song and Supper Rooms!
They were returning from this unanticipated treat in great spirits, to discover most unwonted Cretia and Mr Grigson waiting in the hall, looking very sombre, what looked like a telegram in Grigson’s hand.
His first thought was that Father had died.
Oh Lord – 'twas not somewhat had come to Myo? One understood her condition was delicate.
O Grinnie, cried Cretia, coming up and falling upon his neck, would you believe it? Here is Talshaw, gone fallen down a flight of stairs in a drunken fit and broke his neck.
The fellows all made sympathetic murmurs, and Wood said, quite saw that they should not intrude upon the family at this time, would be about their departure the morn, at which all nodded, and Mr Grigson went over doubtless to discuss the practicalities.
O God, thought Peregrine, patting Cretia’s shoulder. Sure they had none of 'em been particularly fond of their elder brother, but ‘twas a shock. And worse than a shock.
Now he was the heir.
Grigson came over from seeing the fellows off to their beds, laid a hand on the shoulder not occupied by Cretia, and said, Lord Peregrine was entire welcome to stay here while the formalities were put in hand – had no doubt the authorities at the college would be entirely understanding, would send one of his confidential clerks about the matter –
Excellent fellow!
That is above and beyond kind – am still in shock –
Quite so. The best thing would be to go to bed and have a good night’s rest.
Cretia squeezed his hands, as he managed to detach himself and walk with not too much stumbling to the staircase.
These violent delights have violent ends, he thought, as he blew out the candle, and thought that surely, he felt so exhausted, he would sleep like the dead.
But did not. His thoughts were a clamorous agitation. Indeed there had been no particular fraternal affection 'twixt 'em. But he had not in the least been an envious younger brother, resentful of the eldest’s position. He had been exceedingly glad not to be the heir – to be able to pursue a different path –
He groaned. Doubtless his father was already plotting, making plans – one might hope that they would be checked somewhat by the conventions of mourning – surely it would look extremely vulgar to be displaying him about Society with Talshaw barely cold –
All he had desired was to have the quiet life of an Oxford fellow, pursuing scholarship, alleviated by a little recreation in Town made possible by the independence good old Brackley had provided him –
Grinnie sat up. Independence.
He had a modest competence of his own. His father could not flourish the power of the purse-strings over him. He did not have to knuckle down and comply with his demands. It would be – he gulped – uncomfortable perchance to point that out, but far less uncomfortable than being paraded about as a Marquess’s heir, ripe for marriage.
He had no great desire to live lavishly – but already came to an apprehension that Mr Brackley had left him comfortable, and that his enterprize with Roberts and Wilson was doing exceeding well, along with Mr Grigson’s sound advice on investments. He was no poor scholar of Oxenforde, but a gentleman of independent means.
His mouth went to a wry twist. From stray comments of Iffling’s and Grigson’s, very like his father would be touching him for assistance!
Feeling his mind a good deal more at rest, he lay down again, and was shortly asleep.
The following day saw off his friends, that clasped his hand and grasped his shoulder, and said, was there anything they might do, and expressed their gratitude to their host and hostess.
Assured 'em that he intended to be remet with 'em in college, in due course.
Then there was a deal of to-do over mourning-wear – and cards – and waiting upon hearing about the funeral –
And another telegram from Father to say would call the morrow to see Lord Peregrine –
He had already opened somewhat of his intentions to Grigson and Cretia. Grigson gave his small smile, and said, thought the best place for this interview would be the library – no, would not in the least be displacing Miss Jupp –
Not in the least, said Cretia with a sigh, sure there is a deal of correspondence upon my hands – apologies for occasions I must now decline to attend – replies to the condolences that have already started arriving – and you know, Grinnie, we must go call at Trembourne House this very day.
Quite so, he responded, we should certainly not delay going to Mama and Myo.
So here they were at Trembourne House, and receiving condolences from Lady Undersedge – her husband being in the Nuttenford mining districts – and Lady Eleanor. What an exemplary woman was Lady Undersedge – Averdale had taken her in great admiration, quoted A perfect woman, nobly planned, to warn, to comfort and command, one might imagine her the lady in some castle of the Middle Ages, ruling it and defending it whilst her lord was off crusading – it must be entirely the best thing for Mama and Myo to be here.
Mama sighed and said, it was the way of things that she had had so little to do with Talshaw after his infancy – much more so than with you and Lucie – being reared as the heir – but –
She appeared about to say more and then glanced over at Myo and seemed to think better of it.
Myo was looking in health – quite blooming, in fact – Jimsie very attentive –
They hoped that he would come to Worblewood in the summer? They would be very quiet there, and that splendid chap Chilfer was going to come about excavating the Roman villa. Surely there could be no objection?
A very attractive prospect!
It was entirely less heavy a rencontre than he had anticipated.
But he did not look forward to seeing his father.
It has been a most strategic notion of Grigson to suggest the library; putting the encounter as 'twere on Grinnie’s ground. Surrounded by his old friends arrayed upon the shelves.
He was already there, perusing Rasselas, when his father was shown in. He stood up and bowed. Did not expect any manifestations of emotion – no handclasp, no embrace – and was proved correct. His father nodded. Peregrine.
That chair is the most comfortable, he said, going to ring for a footman to fetch – what would his father desire at this time o’ day?
Ah. Brandy. That would account for that unhealthy flush – sure he was looking his years! – Grinnie nodded to the footman and desired coffee for himself.
His father looked around and commenced upon crying up the library at Roughton Arching, that had been writ up in The Speculum – Grinnie doubted his father often visited it but of course that was quite the accolade.
Once they were settled with brandy and coffee, and appropriate sentiments exchanged, he decided to take the Nelson line and sail straight ahead by declaring his intention to complete his final term at Oxford. Somewhat to his surprize, his father conceded this without too much grumbling – showed a very meritorious desire to finish what he had started, a proper seriousness.
No doubt that was a contrast to his late brother, everything by starts and nothing long.
He would, alas, have to decline the fellowship – but was coming about to perceive that one might pursue learning beyond college walls – from the corner of his eye he could see, piled on one of the small tables, the various classical works Vicky Jupp was at present studying. This chap Chilfer sounded entirely up to the mark in matters of archaeology – had not he and his set only lately quite basked in the erudition of Mr MacDonald and Sir Jacob Samuels? Was there not that quite shining example, Her Grace of Mulcaster? Offgrange was noted for his studies in botany - No, he need not renounce scholarship.
There was, of course, the proposition that he should spend the summer at Roughton Arching, a prospect that had filled Grinnie’s heart with positively Gothick gloom. Fortunately he was able to advance his invitation to Worblewood – will be living very quiet – Trembourne still in mourning for his father – Myo in a delicate condition – understand they have also invited Lucie –
His father slowly nodded. And you may ride over to Roughton Arching to meet with the stewards &C – there will fellows coming from Firkins over various matters –
Well, that could not be avoided, he supposed. Provided they did not arrive with a marriage contract ready drawn up! For while one saw that one would have to wed in due course, now that one was not going to live the life of a celibate scholar, one should like to look about a little first. Was it only so that one did not make some terrible mistake and be condemned to the cat and dog life that Rina had with Iffling.
These matters settled, his father did not linger.
It was only after his departure that Peregrine realized that his father had said naught about money and thus must still be in ignorance that he was a young man of means. Mayhap just as well.
Wot a saga, eh, wot a saga, first time I have ventured significantly forth these many years -
And to start with, MAJOR HEAT EVENT.
In anticipation, I had - or so I thought - prudently booked a taxi via taxiapp, with a certain amount of leeway, just in case -
- which turned out very prudent, as when I went to check the booking this morning the app was showing 'network error' and this was clearly on their end rather than mine, and a little looking about suggests that this is not their first rodeo server problem.
So when, at designated time, taxi cameth not, I set out towards the Tube, not without some hope that a black cab might pass me on my way, but that Was Not To Be -
And on reflection, I should perhaps have waited for a Bank train, because getting out on Charing X platforms at Euston involves rather too many stairs.
However, Avanti kindly texted me the approx time my train would be boarding, and this all seemed set - although my (1st class) seat was aisle, backwards, there was nobody in the other 3 seats so I switched -
HAH.
When we reached Coventry, choochoo sighed and gave up, and we had to debouch and take the next Birmingham bound train - which was delayed....
At Birmingham New Street had considerable faff trying to discover a Way Out that would take me to a taxi rank.
When I finally arrived at hotel booked by conference organisers there was an immense performance trying to find the right group booking, as it was not under any title that I might have thought of but that of some hireling booking agency.
However, I am now in nice cool room and have had tasty room service snack. Even if I have had to wrestle with getting my laptop to talk to the free wifi...