The Trouble with Polly Brown (97 page)

Polly watched on as Lucinda's dear mother stooped to give her precious daughter a long and heartfelt hug. Polly, gripped with raw emotion, then picked up Langdon. Clutching him tightly to her chest, she gulped, “I must stay brave. Really I must,” as she sat alone feeling very sad and dejected in the back of the large, old car with Tiddles lost to the world as she lay stretched out on Polly's lap.

Chapter Forty-Four

NOW IT'S YOUR TURN TO CRY LIKE A BABY

M
INUTES LATER, AND THE
journey was once again resumed. Polly rather wisely chose to close her eyes as she tried to keep the image of her dear friend Lucy at the forefront of her mind. All too soon it was time for her to alight the car. She felt great waves of apprehension as the large black gates very slowly opened before her.

“Polly, I'm not sure I fully appreciate your loud and disgracefully depressing sighs,” Lady Butterkist announced. “So, young lady, before we leave this car, I feel the most urgent need to give you a further little pep talk,” she said as she exited the front passenger door to go around and join Polly sitting in the rear of the car.

Five minutes later Polly and Lady Butterkist, holding Tiddles, emerged from out the back of the car and then headed toward the front door, Giles following on behind as he dutifully carried her small, tatty suitcase.

Before they even reached the door, they were enthusiastically greeted by both Mildred and Boritz as they rushed out to greet them.

“Lady Butterkist, how lovely it is to see you again,” they both obsequiously fawned.

“Oh, and Polly, this break has obviously done you so much good, for you look visibly happy and relaxed,” Boritz superficially cried. “Now come inside, all of you, for we have prepared a light supper for you all, as I am sure it has been quite a while since you've eaten anything decent or of real substance.”

“Why, thank you, Boritz, although I must confess that we did stop en route to get ourselves a nice, big bag of fish and chips, and as for the motorway food, I have no choice other than to admit that it was well above average, truly it was.”

“Yes, well, I am sure you are in dire need of a decent cup of properly brewed tea, for I feel certain if nothing else that this was not in good supply on the motorway.”

“No, you are indeed right about that, for the tea was virtually undrinkable. Yes, put bluntly, pretty ghastly, wouldn't you say, Giles?” she muttered. “So perhaps a teeny cup of Earl Grey would not go amiss,” she sweetly stated.

“Well, I am completely at your disposal, so come this way, Lady Butterkist,” he beckoned.

After light refreshments of China tea served with finger sandwiches, scones with jam, and finger shortbread, Lady Butterkist announced that it was time to get back on the road.

“Before I leave, Boritz, I wish to know if you have heard anything of dear Dr. Ninkumpoop?” Lady Butterkist fished, all the while trying to keep a straight face.

“Well, madam, as you ask, sadly, the news is not good.”

“Not good? How is that?”

“Well, I have to report that the opening ceremony for the new ward did not go as smoothly as planned. Yes, if I'm to be perfectly honest, since that most tiresome event it has been downhill all the way.”

“Downhill! What precisely do you mean by that?”

“Well, things went a little haywire that day, and since then I have not been able to speak with him.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Well, the gossip buzzing around town is that he has been checked into an exclusive rehabilitation clinic somewhere in the Swiss Alps, or so I am led to believe. However, as I had no occasion with which to speak alone with him since the day of the very ghastly and disturbing incident, I can therefore only rely on the small tidbits of gossip that regularly seem to come my way.”

“Oh, dear. How very unfortunate.”

“Yes, the whole event turned out to be rather disturbing, to say the least, for during the fracas even my darling Mildred sustained a serious bleeding nose. Didn't you, my dear?”

“You mean to say that dear Poopy punched her?”

“Oh no, madam. Please understand it was that mindless, parasitical pop star who goes by the name of Freddie Fruitless. Yes, it's quite amazing what passes for talent these days,” he said, giving a deep, all-knowing sigh. “Anyway, with the local and national press covering the event, it was nigh impossible to even begin to attempt to minimize the damage.”

“Oh, dear! Well, enough said. Anyway, Boritz, I have one most urgent thing left to settle before I head home, and this is to write a check in show of my support of your orphanage.”

“Oh, the check! Well, believe it or not, Lady Butterkist, I must confess to having completely forgotten all about that,” Boritz announced.

“Well, Boritz, if you could hold on to Tiddles just for a small moment, then this will not only free up my hands but give me the opportunity to search my purse for my checkbook and pen,” she said as she proceeded to unceremoniously dump Tiddles into his empty arms long before she had his verbal agreement.

“Ahh, I seem to have momentarily mislaid my pen,” she cried as she continued to rummage through her purse in pursuit of this important item.

“Oh, Lady Butterkist, please feel free to use mine,” he quickly said as he whisked a pen out of his top pocket.

“Why, thank you, Boritz, but I would hardly call that a pen, for it neither requires ink nor an ink cartridge,” she dismissively snorted. “Forgive me here, but I'm a bit of a puritan when it comes to placing my signature on any document, large or small, so I much prefer to use my own exclusive fountain pen when I write checks, or any written correspondence for that matter,” she said, as she finally brought out a very expensive-looking, jewel-encrusted fountain pen.

“Oh, Lady Butterkist, I gave up using fountain pens many moons ago, for I was thoroughly fed up and tired of them leaking and staining the inside pockets of some of my most expensive suits and blazers,” he freely admitted.

“Well, that really does come as a surprise, Boritz, for surely you always use a fountain pen when you are required by law to place your signature on the bottom of any legal document?”

“Well, yes, Lady Butterkist. You have indeed caught me out in a little white lie, for as you so rightly state, a proper ink pen is in these cases most advantageous, as the law does, as you so rightly state, suggest that all documents submitted must be signed in ink for the purposes of authenticity. But outside office use I, for one, much prefer to go with the modern invention of a Biro.”

“Well, I confess to having a total abhorrence of such things and so am indisposed to use any such vulgar, modern inventions,” she insisted, adding a little tut to complete her disapproval.

It took Lady Butterkist just a matter of minutes to write the check, and after popping her special fountain pen back in her purse, she stood up to hand Boritz the long-awaited and much-desired check, as well as retrieve her precious pup, who she could not help but notice looked decidedly uncomfortable in Boritz's outstretched arms.

Boritz eagerly accepted the check, his eyes on stalks as he shuddered at the amount written on the check.

“Boritz, does this check meet with your approval?”

“Lady Butterkist, what more can I say other than ‘my cup runneth over,' for this is so terribly kind and generous of you,” he stammered.

“Well, Boritz, I hope this money goes some way in alleviating the suffering of these unfortunate young children,” Lady Butterkist said as she continued most affectionately to stroke her pup.

“Oh, trust me when I say it most definitely will, your ladyship. It will.”

“Well, Giles, please drink up, for we urgently need to be on our way. I plan to visit again sometime in the future, although I have to add that at present I am not the slightest bit optimistic that this promise will be carried out during this next coming year, for out of the blue I have just made plans to do a bit of traveling abroad.”

“Oh, really? How wonderful, Lady Butterkist.”

“Yes, I'm rather hoping it will turn out to be a most exciting, if not thoroughly exhilarating, adventure,” she loudly exclaimed. “Firstly I propose to climb the Himalayan Mountains with a handsome young Ghurka at my side.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I was thrilled to bump into the darling little man while purchasing some foreign teas at Harrods, and needless to say, we hit it off instantly. Then my next intended stop is Russia to see my elder sister, who lives somewhere along the Baltic Coast, although I have to confess that at present I'm not entirely sure where on the coast she has parked herself. I then intend to take a long train ride down through Italy and only get off when I reach Tuscany, for can you believe that this is where one of my long-lost cousins has chosen to spend the rest of her days? So, I expect to be eating many olive oil–drenched sardine salads while breathing in the intoxicatingly heady smell of fresh lemons from the nearby groves. I'll not leave Italy until I have paid a much-dreamed-of visit to Florence and Rome. From there I have been invited to stay at a kibbutz in Israel, and then finally when I have tired of everything else, I intend to join a group of hot-blooded, very sweaty Spaniards as we board a tourist bus bound for Puerto Banus in Spain,” she announced as she clasped her hands together to control both her delight as well prevent her imagination from running riot.

“Incredible.”

“Have you ever been to Puerto Banus, Boritz?”

“No, madam. I don't believe I have.”

“Well, it was indeed a wonderful discovery when I first set eyes on the place. It has the most delightful bay filled to overcapacity with the most opulent sailing vessels imaginable. An old school chum of mine named Mrs. Georgia Ganglegoose has invited me to come join her on her extremely palatial craft, and then I believe we will set sail on the high seas in search of some new and exciting adventure. I do believe she has the West Indies in mind, and after that, well, who knows?

“Now, won't that be a lot of fun? So at present I have absolutely no idea as to when I will next visit you good people, for I fully intend to let my wings take me wherever they wish to flutter and with whomever it feels right to be.”

“Oh, your ladyship, surely you are not only playing with me but also with fire, for it is most dangerous, if not completely irresponsible, for two perfectly vulnerable creatures to go to sea without a strong, capable man at the helm of their vessel.”

“Well, Boritz, I can see that there might be some cause for alarm at two women of a certain age jaunting around the globe on their ownsome lonesome, but as you can see, I am a fairly feisty woman. So if we get boarded by a gang of pirates of—how shall I say?—well, disrepute—”

“Madam, hear me out when I categorically state they are never otherwise,” he interjected, “for you will indeed be considered seriously lucky to find even one considerate gentleman amongst them. Oh, no, it is a well-known fact that fiendish pirates have not changed a bit from days gone by. And have you taken into consideration what you will do if you are taken captive on the high seas?”

“Captured? Oh, that does sound so very romantic,” she continued to tease.

“Well, there is every possibility that in the event of being captured, you might well be forced to walk the plank!”

“Oh, how exciting!” Lady Butterkist cried.

“I don't understand, for
exciting
was not the first word that sprung to my mind.”

“As I was saying, Boritz, I am ready and willing to take on this, as well as any other challenge that is thrown my way, for it most surely is all part and parcel of having this rather late in life lusty penchant for travel,” she deliberately teased.

“Well, I can only hope you take my words of caution seriously,” he muttered.

“Thank you for your concern, but before I rush to leave, I must request a quiet word in Mildred's ear.”