Once again we are beholden to the current executors of the Knolly estate for letting us publish this, the second package of the great man's journals and memoirs.

The woman who loomed behind me was alarming to say the least, and I’m sure I would have remembered a paramour of mine with hair that shade of red. I must admit, I have noticed an odd thing since my return from the Orient, viz. Why is it that women over a certain age feel that they have to follow the latest fashions? Thank goodness that they eventually come to their senses; heaven forbid it certainly wouldn’t do to have someone like my Aunt tied up in such corsetry.

Molly - or Mary as she had been introduced by my so called friends - sploshed down the tray of our favourite tipples that she had been bringing over, pulled up a spare chair from a table opposite and plonked it down as close as was possible without actually sitting on me. Once upon a time, this would have reduced me to a grinning idiot but now I was rather horrified. My colleagues, however, were enjoying themselves immensely at my expense, and they were not doing so quietly.

'Madam, I’m a married man now you know?' I said in as calm and firm a tone as I could muster.

'Oh!"Madam" is it now? Whatever happened to "Molly my love, my darling", he?' she cackled.

She put an arm around me, pulled me close and whispered into my ear.

'I’m married too, but he’s long buggered off. So how’s about we start where we left off?' She said with a wink.

I looked across at the grinning pair of idiots and tried to think calm thoughts. Oh, for some of Hobbes “Gender Benders"! But how could I anticipate the need, the original plan had Elspeth and I well on our way home by this point, and the original plan certainly did not feature dalliances with old flames.

Mary's perfume was unfortunately rather familiar and was also rather cloying. She squeezed my thigh. I gulped. It wasn't the reaction she expected, so she tried again, only rather further up my leg and closer to those areas of a gentleman's person that ought not to be grappled. That wasn't the reaction that I expected.

With neither of us getting the anticipated reaction, Mrs Spendlove sat back to the sound of a loud creak; I surmised that it was either her chair or her own underpinning. Either way, the sound was ominous.

'Oh, Knolly! You're much more of a man than I remember. You do remember, don’t you?'

She put her head to one side and batted eyelashes at me that would not look amiss on a good Jersey cow.

I breathed deeply. 'Mrs Spendlove...' I began.

'I'm Mary,' she said, 'but you can still call me Molly.' She smiled. She threw in what she obviously thought was a coquettish manner. It probably was en vogue some 30 or so years ago when she was 19 and I was 15.

'Mrs Spendlove,' I continued strongly emphasising the "Mrs", 'that was a long time ago, but of course I remember. How I could forget those lessons or the trouble I experienced once I returned from Brighton?'

She pulled a sad face. 'You broke my heart, you know that don’t you? Your Aunt wouldn’t let me speak to her and...'

She looked into my eyes, cracked a smile and then began to laugh. The same deep laugh that had echoed through the trees down at Treacle Bolly as we had chased each other and traded our affections in shady nooks all those years ago. Slapping the table, she leaned over to the pair of giggling reprobates that were Sag Aloo and Sol-Tan. The rest of the clientele looked up at the noise.

'Pay up then gents if you don’t mind,' said Mary as she slapped the table. 'I’ve done my bit, and I think Knolly would like to pull himself together, don’t you?'

She leaned toward me and winked. 'I'm sorry, lover - but when they came up with such an idea I couldn’t resist ... Your face has been a picture.'

I was having trouble taking this all in. Once again, I blame the ale (was I on my second one now?) but it seemed that I was on the receiving end of a well-played joke.

'Well, I’m glad that I have provided some light entertainment for you all.' I said with a small bow to our hostess. I reserved a menacing glare for the other two.

'Now, you leave that nice Mr Tan and that luvverly Mr Aloo well alone. We all likes a bit of fun .... And since when did you become so stuck-up, hmmm?'

I thought about it. 'I grew older and saw more of the world, I suspect.'

She laughed once more and this time I was able to see that she had kept all of her own teeth in spite of her age.

Time ticked on and we talked and drank, drank and talked; there were periods when we talked and talked, but these were compensated by the periods when we drank and drank. Alas not much in the way of food came my way. Sag Aloo and Sol-Tan joined in; they were not drinking as much or as fast as me, instead keeping an eye out on all the comings and goings.

I enquired after Mr Spendlove - but that conversation seemed to be a dead end, until Molly asked me about Elspeth and how married life was treating me. When I told her about my impending fatherhood, she proceeded to give drinks on the house to those that were still in residence, those that could still stand, and those that could understand the offer.

With talk of children, Molly proceeded to introduce me to her own brood, all of whom seemed to be girls, and all of whom were very ladylike and very polite. I think that there were at least five of them ranging from 17 to 21 years of age. I cannot for the life of me remember any of their names, but not one of them seemed to resemble Molly in her youth so I supposed that they all must take after their father. Still, they all seemed jolly happy enough helping behind the bar and sitting with the male customers.

The evening was drawing in (where had the time gone?) and I was starting to feel a little worse for wear when door opened and a young lad stepped in to the bar, surveying the area. This young fellow was the spitting image of Patrick the Postmaster and thus I surmised that this was "the lad" he intended to send over with my reply. He at last saw me and hurried over in my direction. It seemed that his uniform was one that he was supposed to grow into and thus had a life of its own. However, that impression could well have been the effect of the alcoholic haze that was starting to come into ascendancy.

'Mr Knolly, sir?' He asked, 'Telegram, sir.'

'Yes that's me! I'm a telegram!'

I attempted to stand, but thought better of it and took the piece of paper from the lad's outstretched hand.

'Will there be any reply, sir?'

'Um.....not sure yet, do you want a drink? Molly...Mary....give the lad a small beer please.'

The young postman faded from my view and I looked at the telegram. The words on the pieces of paper seemed to dance before my eyes, and no sooner had I focused on one, then the one next to it seemed to scamper away in delight. This just wouldn't do at all. I might mis-interpret the message and heaven knows what might ensue. I needed to have my wits about me. I turned to Sol-Tan - or rather in the direction that shapes reminiscent of Sol-Tan and Sag Aloo were seated.

'Old friends! I think that I am drunk or heading in that direction. Please can you ask Mrs Spendlove if you can use her kitchen and avail me of one of your magic 30 minutes of sobriety?'

The pair of them went of at speed and disappeared behind the bar, whilst I desperately tried to decipher the message before me. In my befuddled mind, I decided that an empty glass-bottomed tankard would suffice as a monocular to help me decipher the telegram once again.

It was from Bertie, and went thus:

Train ready by tomorrow at latest *stop* Leave for Scotland on Friday *stop* John has news from ACD *stop* Maxim expecting you after lunch *stop* Can you find elephant gun *stop* Bertie.

...and that was it. No mention of my automobile (which made me uncomfortable), no mention of being watched (was this a good sign?) My head was beginning to hurt with the strain of focusing. The telegram was replaced in my hand by a small tumbler of something brown, sweet smelling and....fizzy?

'I think you need this Mr Knolly, sir.'

I grinned up at Sag Aloo, held my nose and downed the drink in one go with the hope that none of the mixture would attach itself to my taste-buds on the way down. It might smell nice, but to taste it was an experience one tried never to repeat.

'Do I detect bicarbonate of soda in this version?'

'Indeed you do, sir" answered Sol-Tan. "I thought it might help the taste.'

'Hmm, I think it has a long way to go before you can attempt to sell it.'

Sol-Tan smiled a knowing smile. The tip of my tongue poked out for a moment and then my brain quickly reminded it how sorry it would feel should it lick my lips. I took a deep breath to control any other autonomous action my body might decide to do. I opened my pocket watch and looked at the now clear image of the face; twenty nine minutes to go, I thought to myself. I scanned the telegram once more to assure myself that I had missed nothing pertinent. But of course I had! The reason there was no mention of any one spying on them was that I had forgotten to mention it to either of them. Damnation! Still, I cannot change the past; the damage was done and (with fingers crossed) I hoped that nothing was amiss.

'Things to do!' I called as I checked my watch once more. 'It is time we moved on gentlemen and I need to check the earliest train back to London. Elspeth and I need to be back by lunchtime to pick up something.'

I looked for the young postman who now had one of Mrs Spendlove's daughters draped across lap. I caught his eye and he made to extricate himself. I waved him back.

'No reply,' I called. 'Enjoy your .. ahem... beer.'

'Going so soon?' Called Mrs Spendlove from behind the bar.

'I'm afraid so Mol...Mary. Until next time.'

She raised the tankard that she had just filled.

'Bring that wife of yours next time. I’ll tell her a few stories about you.'

'Indeed I shall.' I said as the potential ramifications of such a meeting played havoc in my mind. 'Goodnight, fair lady.'

Sol-Tan looked at me. 'Will you really bring Mrs Elspeth with you?'

'Certainly not! Now .... where is Sag with the coach? At last I feel quite awake. Oh, I know! Perhaps I should drive?'

The look of horror on his face brought joy to my world. That would teach them to play jokes at my expense.

The Great Knolly Archive

The Shepherd and
huzzah4knolly

08.05.08 Front Page

Back Issue Page