A busy start to the new year

After a very poor start to the new year, things have begun to brighten up a little in the Dimbelby-Smyth household. Dorothy has secured herself a small role in a show of some kind due to be staged in London next month. I am not sure exactly what it is but she is quite excited about it. I spoke to Aunt Murdock on Monday and she is sounding much like her old self again. Obviously, she is going to have to slow down a little but she sounds much better than she did at Christmas.

And, to top it all, I have heard back from the insurance company about my poor old Bently. thankfully the old girl is built like a tank so the damage is mainly superficial. That said though, it is still going to take a couple of weeks for the repairs to be completed. But then again, quality and craftsmanship can’t be rushed. I will just have to be patient.

Albert is still rather upset about the whole thing. He has never been involved in an accident before and, despite my constant reassurances that he is in no way to blame, he seems to feel responsible for the damage inflicted on my dear old car. If it is anyone’s fault it is the driver of the delivery vehicle that hit us, although I understand that he is denying this. I personally have no desire to get involved in all the arguments and who is or isn’t to blame, I am only too pleased to leave that in the hands of my brokers. Personally, I just want my old car back.

One of the most unexpected consequences of being involved I what they term a road traffic accident is the pressure to make a claim for injury or losses, even if there aren’t any. I think that most people will agree that I am a fairly tolerant man – there are not many things that really make me angry, but this modern-day obsession with apportioning blame and pursuing ridiculous claims is one of them. I have often heard the phrase “where there is blame, there is a claim” and I never really understood what it meant until now. From what I hear from the chaps down at the Club, this culture for claiming compensation for even the most trivial of incidents is costing insurance companies, and so consequently yours truly, an absolute fortune. And as some of them have business interests in the insurance industry one has to believe what they say. I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? If the commpanies are paying out untold thousands of pounds in compensation, that that will mean higher premiums for the rest of us. I do not pretend to understand how the insurance industry works – all that underwriting and so on just confuses me – but even I can see the logic in that.

I believe that several companies have already attempted to make contact with me regarding my “injuries”. It is a good job they didn’t come through directly to me I can tell you. I would have given them a piece of my mind and sent them off with a flea in their ear, make no mistake about that.

Now don’t get me wrong, where there is a genuine case I am all in favour of victims receiving their just compensation, but this idea that one is somehow owed something I find rather offensive. I was pleased to note that many of my chums at the Club are of the same mind. As far as I am concerned, at this moment in time, my most pressing concern is the return of my Bentley.

This week I have spent three mornings in the office making good my promise to be more involved in the family business. And I must say that it is all much more complicated than I had at first thought. Not that I was under an illusion over the complexity of the family’s affairs. Generations of wheeling and dealing have left few avenues for investment untrodden. I am sure that with the help of Miss Drayton and Aunt Murdock I will learn enough to enable to steer this somewhat ponderous ship into a bright and prosperous future. However, I suspect that many of the various managers are expecting my endeavours to fall a little short. I can’t blame them if they do. My record with the firm hasn’t exactly been glittering. Working under my father I made a lot of mistakes, which is why he left the running of the family’s affairs to Aunt Murdock. He never had much faith in me, and looking back I can understand why. I am not a natural when it comes to business and financial affairs, but I am determined to do my best this time around. After all, I am a little older and more determined than I was I was in my twenties.

On Friday I was going to call on Hope again but decided instead to call her on the telephone. I have never been comfortable trying to hold conversations over the telephone; one never knows quite what the other person is doing or who they are with. I know it doesn’t trouble most people, but I always feel much happier when I can actually see the person I am talking to. But since I have had very little success when trying to visit her in person, and since the unfortunate events of my previous visit, I decided that it was much safer to call instead. As it happens, Hope was available and seemed genuinely pleased to hear from me. She could only speak to me briefly but we have agreed to meet for lunch next Tuesday, which is very agreeable to me. I think I will take somewhere quiet and intimate as I have a few things I would like to chat with her about, not least being Simon. I don’t know if she has seen him recently but I feel that if she does have any intentions towards him she needs to be made aware of his track record as far as women and relationships are concerned.

Yesterday I spent the evening with my old pal Dorchester and his family. they have a very nice little house south of the river where I spent many a pleasant weekend in my youth. Having known the family all of my life I find time spent with them much like being with family. One can relax and be one’s self in the company of people who have lived with one through the good times and the bad. We were joined by Dorchester’s two sisters, Clara and Emily. Clara is just getting over a particularly acrimonious divorce whilst Emily is visiting from abroad. At the moment she is living in Germany where she works in some capacity for the European Union. I think she is a researcher, but I may have got that wrong. We had a very pleasant evening, catching up on recent events and reminiscing about some of Mine and Dorchester’s little adventures when we were on holiday from school. Clara reminded me of a time when the four of us decided to take a boat onto the Serpentine, only to capsize the thing after becoming a little too boisterous. I think we all developed nasty colds and Clara insists that she has never been on a boat since. Half in jest I suggested that I take her back to the scene of the crime once the lake reopens in the spring. To my surprise, she said she would love to, providing I agreed to behave myself!

During the evening I asked Dorchester about Anne. He was a little coy, I suspect because he didn’t want to say anything in front of his sisters, but from what he did say, it seems that he has seen her a couple of times since Christmas. I must say that I was delighted with this news. Anne is a really wonderful young lady much more suitable than that American he was seeing until recently. I am not sure his parents are aware f this new relationship; they seem to be under the impression that he can make things up with Annabelle. From my point of view, he is much better off without her and I hope that his new relationship with Anne works out. I am sure his family will all like her.

I have no plans for today other than visiting the Club this evening after dinner here with Dorothy and Angela. In fact, Dorothy is cooking and has told me to “expect the unexpected”, whatever that is supposed to mean. I just hope it is nothing too continental or spicy. I do enjoy Dorothy’s cuisine, but there have been occasions where her dishes have been a little too hot for me. Anyway, I had better go and prepare myself. There should be just enough time for a snifter of the old Scotish firewater and a glance through the newspapers.

Not a very good start to the year

I have to say that 2018 has not begun auspiciously for me. New Year’s Eve itself was much as I’d imagined it would be. I joined the chaps at the Club for a few celebratory drinks and we saw the old year out in good style. Most of the old guard were there, in body if nothing else. From what I saw, most of them were asleep long before midnight and should really have been tucked up in bed with their cocoa. Those who did manage to stay awake joined us at the bar in time to hear Big Ben herald in the new year.

We all have hopes that each new year will bring us better luck, health or prosperity than the one before. Some of the chaps were talking about gym memberships, diets and abstinence, but we all know that they will either have forgotten their resolutions before morning or will have discarded them before the end of January.

Anyway, I left the Club around 1 o’clock, hoping to flag down a taxi. This it turns out was my first mistake. I should have arranged to have old Arthur pick me up but I had given him the night off. Normally taxis are fairly easy to get, even at that time, but on this particular occasions, probably due to it being New Year, there were none to be had. The one thing that there was no shortage of was drunken revellers, tumbling out off every bar and club and making a damned nuisance of themselves. In the end, I had to walk all the way to Piccadilly before I could secure myself a taxi. By the time I arrived home it was almost 2 o’clock and I was not happy at all.

Whether it was due to the inclement weather, the drink or something else entirely, I awoke Monday afternoon feeling more than a little unwell. Now, I am not normally one for letting minor sniffles and colds get the better of me, but for once, it knocked me right out. In fact, I was so ill that I didn’t leave my bedroom for the whole day and only did so on Tuesday because I was getting unimaginably bored of just laying there, staring at the ceiling and feeling sorry for myself. Dorothy tells me that an awful lot of people have been struck down with colds and flu over the festive period, so I am not alone. Not that that is reassuring in any way. When one is unwell, there is little comfort in knowing that others are also suffering.

By Wednesday I was well enough to be out and about, so decided that I would make my way to Hope’s gallery. From previous experience, I knew that there was little chance of me managing to entice her away for lunch, but I did hold out some hope of at least having a little chat. When I last saw her she had been leaving the old country pile with that rogue Simon and I was keen to be reassured that he had not in any way upset her. Anyway, to cut a long story short, it seems that she had in fact made arrangements to meet Simon that very afternoon and could only spare me a few minutes before she had to leave. From what she told me, I gather that he cancelled his prior plans for the new year to spend it with Hope and Charlotte. Needless to say, this was not the news I had wanted to hear. Simon’s reputation is not a good one and I was very surprised that Hope had been taken in by his insincere charms.

Had Charlotte been at the gallery I would have attempted to talk to her, but she was, apparently, at home working on some project or other, so, on leaving the gallery I made my way to the Club for some lunch and a few drinks. At least, that was my plan. What I hadn’t planned for, and indeed never could have imagined happening, was that as we made our way out of Chelsea, Arthur and I were involved in what was a minor accident involving ourselves and a large delivery truck. I say minor only because no one was seriously hurt, but the damage inflicted on my dear old Bentley was not inconsiderable. In the end, both vehicles had to be towed away and I decided at that point to simply return home. I have to say Arthur was rather shaken by the whole affair and I had to send him home. Obviously, I still have the Daimler to get around in, but the Bentley is an old family favourite and I am very anxious about its future.

Yesterday (Thursday) was a rather quiet day. I awoke feeling stiff and rather sorry for myself so remained indoors for the entire day. Dorothy fussed about administering various remedies, even at one point suggesting a massage to ease my aching back. Nigel came round and we did a little more work on the ever-growing family tree, but otherwise, I didn’t do very much at all.

I am still not feeling at my best today but did manage to get to the Club for a very nice lunch with a few of the chaps. It seems that most of them will be returning to work on Monday, so we made the most of having one last afternoon together before we return to the old grindstone. Over lunch, the subject of resolutions came up again. Whilst I have already made my views on such things well known before, I was intrigued to hear what others were planning to start or give up. For most of them, next week will see the beginning of a new health and fitness regime, although I very much doubt that many of them will stick it out for more than a week or two. They have no staying power. When pressed, I suggested that I might give more attention to business matters this year. That at least is something I think I can do and, in many ways, actually, need to do. Aunt Murdock is not getting any younger so no doubt I will have to take on more responsibility over the coming months.

I think that for me it is going to have to be an early night. It has been a long day, and not the best of weeks, what with the crash, feeling ill and Hope’s involvementt with Simon. Hopefully, tomorrow will mark the beginning of something better.