HR

7 – Dinner

The Marquis took Sydney’s arm and led the assembled group through into the dining room. There were ten in all – the Marquis and his wife, The Commodore and his, the two daughters, the two Americans and the Bishop of Twerton, also chaplain to the Marquis, the Right Reverend Dr Fondelme-Sstrangely (with two Ss, my dear) and his wife, Pentecost. The Bishop led Tung and the remainder made their own way to table.

The room was dominated by a huge oak table (probably sixteenth century) and lit by soft lights. Electricity had been introduced to the Manor by the fifth Marquis who was an amateur scientist and who had died when his last invention, an electrically warmed chair, had set fire to his trousers when he fell asleep in it. The brandy he was drinking at the time aided the combustion and his obituary in the Times newspaper said that he had died, as he fought – dead drunk. All this the Marquis told a fascinated Sydney through the first and main courses. The pheasant, he said, had been shot by himself only a few days ago and had been hung in the game room since. Sydney’s understanding of a games room did indeed include suspension, but pheasants had never been one of her interests and, she concluded, the Marquis was probably a serious pervert.

Commodore (oh, no my dear, do please call me Binky) Updyke regaled Tung with tales of his naval career including his famously bombarding an American naval base on Guam for three full hours from his Battleship until he realised that his navigation officer had misunderstood orders and had taken them to the wrong position, some two thousand miles from the intended target.

‘It would be customary for the ladies to leave us while the gentlemen take port but we make an exception to recognise diversity,’ said the Marquis. ‘Please remember to pass the decanter to your left.’ Port was followed by brandy accompanied by, to Sydney’s mind, rather insipid coffee but she could not deny that she had enjoyed this brief visit to the English upper class.

As she later said to Tung, who was for various reasons unable to reply, ‘You have to admit, babe, they have class. But, oh my God, all that history! Don’t they ever think of today?’

The following morning Portnoy drove Sydney and Tung to Updyke’s head office where they were led directly to Lucinda’s office. ‘Now,’ she whispered to Tung, ‘are we going to have some fun? I intend to get Miss Lady Rut On and her upper class snotty friend in some serious knots! This will be something to tell mummy about! Bye bye Brit girls, here comes the twenty-first century.’

Tung smiled her inscrutable smile.