The Trouble with Polly Brown (91 page)

“Yes, I agree. This way we are on call to help and heal, and happily nobody suspects a thing.”

“Precisely, Blenkinsopp. Precisely.”

“Well, milady, as the girls are still deep in the land of nod, may I be so bold as to ask you about something that is bothering me so terribly?”

“I'm all ears, Giles.”

“Well, we have seen dear Dr. Ninkumpoop's terribly sad demise.”

“Indeed we have, for as that little saying goes, ‘Oh, how the mighty have fallen.'”

“Yes, but what of the disgracefully avaricious Scumberrys? Surely their wickedness and deceit far exceed anything the poor doctor might or might not have done.”

“You're absolutely correct, but there you go again, Giles, making hasty judgments as though you alone are the officially recognized barometer that decides just how bad an action truly is and therefore who deserves the most punishment. We were never given this task, and so it never ceases to amaze me as to just how easily as well as quickly we take it upon ourselves to become the lawful adjudicators of all we meet. Anyway, where the Scumberrys are concerned, I would ask you to trust me when I say I know my onions!”

“But, milady, how can you ever justify defending that couple of extraordinarily wicked buffoons?” he snorted.

“Well, Blenkinsopp, my dear, after all is said and done, this is the most classic case of
folie à deux
I've witnessed in many a year.”

“
Folie a what
, madam?”

“Really, Giles, sometimes I think you're quite an ignoramus when it comes to the more refined things in life,” she snorted.

“Well, madam, you of all people would know.”

“Well, Giles, simply put,
folie à deux
is French for ‘a madness shared by two people'!”

“My goodness, Lady B. You leave me utterly speechless, for this must surely be the perfect way to describe this dreadful couple, although, I have to add, when you use French, it does make you sound unbelievably hoity-toity!”

“Why, thank you, Blenkinsopp. I shall indeed take that as a compliment. I also feel that I must remind you once again that ours is not to judge; all we can do is watch and wait and see how this, as well as other matters, will lie. But I beg you to understand me when I say there really is method in my madness, for I promise you that despite all appearances to the contrary, I am absolutely on top of this one.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I will take this occasion to also remark that there are those amongst us that cannot face any form of mild correction, so it would not matter how far they fell; they would still fail take heed or change their ways, for they have no conscience whatsoever. They have renegade spirits, as well as a seared conscience. Take Freddie, for instance. He might well fall into that category; however, time alone will tell all,” she counseled.

“Yes, but in some ways Freddie is little more than a harmless, self-destructive old fool who is mainly hurting himself, but that is surely not the case where those awful, sycophantic scavengers the Scumberrys are concerned,” he mournfully sighed.

“Now, now, Blenkinsopp. Your words are not only condemning but are beginning to sound most uncharitable. So I must once again remind you it is not for us to judge, for only heaven knows the answer to this one,” she commiserated.

“Well, it all leaves me utterly flummoxed as to why in the light of all you know and have observed you still insist on offering financial assistance when it is obvious to all that the only ones who will benefit from the money will be that rather beastly couple. Yes, as none of those poor, deprived children are likely to gain anything from your kindness; it really makes absolutely no sense at all to me,” he loudly murmured.

“Giles, clearly it doesn't, but answer me this, have I parted with any money yet? Did you see me write out a check?”

“No, but…”

“No buts. Did you or did you not see me place a signed check directly into his greedy and grubby little paws?”

“No, but you did promise to do so on your return.”

“How observant you are, for indeed I did promise just that.”

“Well then, as you are not prone or given to lying, you will of course keep your word, for may I have occasion to remind you that a man's word is indeed his bond.”

“Oh, and I fully intend to,” she quickly retorted.

“Milady, you are once more fooling with my mind, for I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but am I to believe that you still fully intend to give great financial assistance to one of the most corrupt and unmerciful couples I have ever had the misfortune of meeting?”

“Oh, Giles. Have a little more faith in me. Do not presume anything! Yes, it is true I will always honor my word, and if in this case it means writing out a very substantial check, then so be it.”

“Uh!”

“Yes, but as to what becomes of that check, well, that is an entirely different matter.”

“Milady, are you suggesting he might well lose or mislay it?”

“Enough said! Just wait and see how this matter will lie, and know this, Giles: we might live our lives thinking we can get away with wicked and unlawful things, but at the end of the day, time alone has an uncanny way of catching up with us. Believe you me.”

“Madam, I believe I do,” he lightheartedly chuckled.

“Now, I do believe I recognize that little church with its pretty steeple, and if so, then happily we are just a matter of minutes away from our desired destination.”

Chapter Forty-One

YOU NEVER MESS WITH DEAR AUNT BESS

T
HE CAR SWERVED
up the long, winding drive and came to a halt outside a very large thatch-roofed cottage.

“Ahh. Finally we have arrived. Oh, how I simply adore this very special place,” Lady Butterkist gleefully cried.

As she waited for Giles to come around the car to open her side of the car, a large, very buxom lady dressed in a long apron that went way past her knees rushed down some steps to greet them.

“Ralph, I mean, Lady Ralphella, how lovely to see you, for it's been such a long time since you were last here,” she joyfully cried as Lady Butterkist stepped out of the car and then moved forward to greet her.

“I believe you're quite right, Aunt Bessie,” she said, giving her a friendly hug. “It's been a long time, and I have really missed you, as well as this wonderful place.”

“Now, then. Are these two darlin' little sleeping beauties the ones you told me about?” she said, placing her head right up to the window to take a quick peek.

“They are indeed.”

“Oh, they look like such angelic little cherubs,” the rosy-cheeked lady declared.

“Well, I hope you will still be seeing them in the same light by the end of their stay,” Lady Butterkist playfully commented.

“Needless to say, but I'm sure I will, for we normally get all the fight out of them in a matter of days,” Aunt Bessie retorted.

“Yes, I for one wouldn't want to square up against you, Aunt Bessie. That's for sure,” Giles cheekily commented.

“Giles, forgive me, for I didn't mean to ignore you. How are you doing?” the kindly lady with the rosy cheeks and graying, silver hair asked as she pushed an extra grip into the bun on the back of her head to ensure that it remained secure before reaching out to give him a firm hug.

“Well, Aunt Bessie, I have to concede to really enjoying being a chauffeur and butler, but there are times when Ralph, or rather, Lady Butterkist, can and regularly does overstep the mark, if you know what I mean.”

“You bet I do,” she replied, giving a loud, hearty laugh. “But don't you worry or fret, luv, because if she gets too big for her boots, come and find me, for I have a number of large rolling pins at the ready,” she quipped, her deep voice betraying her Cornish heritage.

“I might just take you up on that,” he quickly retorted.

As the girls were still sound asleep, they were carried up to their bedroom by staff members of the household and quickly tucked into their beds.

Lady B. watched on as Aunt Bessie gave both of them a light kiss on the forehead before switching off the bedside lamp.

“Bless their little cotton socks, they are so out for the count that to tell truth, you'd be forgiven for thinking they'd really kicked the bucket,” she rather wickedly remarked.

“Really, Aunt Bessie!” Lady B. giggled.

“Well, they are so sound asleep that they will probably not wake till the cock crows in the morn',” she sighed as she closed the door of their room.

As Lady Butterkist joined Aunt Bessie in heading down the stairs toward the kitchen, she used this moment in time to fill her in on everything she thought might be helpful regarding both girls.

“Aunt Bessie, they have both been through an awful lot, and so I imagine in the days to come there might, well, be a few tantrums and tears.”

“Oh, I'm quite sure there will be, and don't worry, 'cos I'm quite used to that.”

“Well, allow me to also inform you that the girls are suffering from a hideous lack of self-worth. Both girls believe they are useless and ugly, and as for dear Polly, why, she recently confessed to me that if she looks in the mirror, she sees nothing but a hoary monster looking back at her.”

“Goodness gracious me! We certainly have our work cut out for us, don't we?”

“Lucinda is not much better, and it is only thanks to the sap of the Hoolie Koolie and Hubber Blubber that her wrist wounds are entirely healed. I fear her mind and heart will take considerably longer.”

“Well, you've certainly brought them to the right place, for I intend to love on both girls,” the large, bubbly lady with the silver bun and kind wrinkles cried.

“Yes, let me assure you, Aunt Bessie, that both girls have a real propensity toward becoming proper young ladies, and they truly do deserve our help.”

“Trust me, Lady B., by the time they leave here, they will believe themselves to be princesses. We will work really hard to give them a new image of themselves,” she reassured.

“Splendid! Now let me ask you, Aunt Bessie, how many other girls and boys are staying at the house at present?”

“Well, let's see. At last count we had eight boys ranging from thirteen to sixteen and nine girls, Polly and Lucy included.”

“Wonderful, then they will have plenty of time to make other friendships,” Lady Butterkist commented.

“Oh, yes. Definitely. Mind, we do work them hard, school work included, but we also play hard too. By the time the sun goes down, there are no arguments about bedtimes, for by the end of each workday they are all ready and eager to just flop into bed,” she said, giving a quirky smile. “At present we are bringing in the daffodils. Then we'll be pickin' the apples and cherries down in orchards. Then there's the barley and wheat harvest, and so it goes on.”

“Good.”

“Yes, I'm glad to say that God's fertile earth just keeps on giving us an overabundance of crops, and all He requires is for us to show up to sow and then till the land,” she said in her deep Cornish accent.

“Tell me, Aunt Bessie, how is the animal sanctuary doing?”

“Well, it's as full as the house, for sadly, just like these children, animals are equally at the mercy of humans, who can be so intolerably cruel.”

“Yes, it really does beggar belief,” Lady B. sighed.

“Come see our latest addition. He's a wonderful ol' horse named Boxer who has been here for nigh on three weeks. His scars, mind, are more than visible to the naked eye, and if you look him straight in eye, it is clear he has been through much. I figure it may well be a good thing to allow Polly to befriend and nurture him.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Then we have a wonderful Scotch border collie we've renamed Lassie who also is severely traumatized, and so I thought it would be good to entrust her to the care of dear Lucinda.”

“Aunt Bessie, it all makes my heart bleed, truly it does, for it is so very sad.”

“Yes, but want to know something? As they care for and nurture these poor, darling animals, it quietly does a tremendous healing work on all parties concerned.”

“I couldn't agree more, and Aunt Bessie, I would be eternally grateful if you could find the time to once again show me around the animal sanctuary so that I can familiarize myself with all the new animals that have recently been rescued and brought here.”

“Oh absolutely, Lady B., but before I take you 'round, I would like for us to find Giles and the rest of my staff. We can all sit down for a hearty supper of steak and mushroom pie served with tatties and other fresh vegetables and also plentiful crusty, home-baked bread. This will be followed on by apple and black currant crumble with thick, creamy custard. Oh, and a large dollop of clotted cream.”

“Oh, it all sounds simply splendid to me,” Lady Butterkist enthused, “and I have always loved your homemade bread in particular.”