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.

 

 

No time for resolutions

It is that time of year when one is expected to make a resolution, things one wants to give up or to start. If I am being totally honest I have to say that I have never held with the whole new year resolution thing and I don’t understand why people bother. After all, the majority of resolutions made tonight will be broken by the end of February.

My mother was always very keen on this kind of thing. She would often press me to either give up something she saw as a bad habit or to take on some new project or other. It goes without saying that I have never kept any of them. But then again, neither did she.

I can’t help thinking that the middle of the winter is probably not the best time to be thinking of making fresh starts. New Year is just a fluke of the calendar; it lands in the middle of winter with two very cold and wet months still to come. As far as I can see January is a very bad time to be making life-changing decisions. If one is going to make big decisions then maybe the best time for doing it is the spring. At least then there are the warmer summer months to help brighten one’s outlook.

This evening I am going down to the Club to join the chaps for our regular New Year celebrations. I had hoped that Hope would join me as my guest but since she left the house with Simon I haven’t been able to speak to her. As it is I am sure I will have a great evening, as usual, enjoying a drink or three with friends. There are worse ways to see out the old year.

A Yuletide to remember

Well, that is it. Christmas is now over for another year. From what I see and read the shops are very busy and the roads appalling! Here at the country house, things are still relatively quiet and thankfully free of snow and ice. we have all had a jolly good time of it. In fact, I would go so far as to say it is one the best Christmases I have had for quite some time. I have spent the past few days with some of the people closest to me which have made it rather special. And after all, that is what Christmas is supposed to be about. I know that some people get a little too caught up in the whole gift thing, but for us this year it has all been about the company and friendship.

The surprising thing is just how quickly the time has passed by. I can hardly believe it is Thursday already. When you look at it we spend days, weeks even, preparing for the one day and it is over before you know it. All that food, the presents and anticipation pile up, just to disappear almost in a flash.

Dorothy took on the role of hostess and, with the help of Angela and Aunt Murdock, served up the most amazing Christmas dinner. I knew she was a good cook, having had the pleasure of eating several of her meals over the past few months, but Monday’s spread was something quite different from the suppers we have shared in Kensington. It goes without saying that we all ate and drank far too much and spent most of the afternoon and evening immobile in the sitting room. Even Dorchester seemed to forget his troubles and really seemed to enjoy himself.

I was delighted when Anne joined us on Boxing Day. Her children had been picked up by their father to spend a few days with him, leaving her free to join us. I must say that she was a very welcome addition to the party and she made a particular impression on Aunt Murdock who seemed quite drawn to her. More than once I saw them deep in conversation. I only hope it was about colour schemes rather than romantic ones! Anne herself seemed happy to chat with the old Mad Duck so I was happy to leave them to it.

But Aunt Murdock wasn’t the only one to take an interest in Anne. I have often been told that I am not very good at picking up on other people’s feelings or thoughts, but even I had noticed that dear old Dorchester has been paying Anne a great deal of attention this week. I think that he is really taken with Anne and I could not have been more pleased.

Things were going swimmingly until Wednesday afternoon until the arrival of my old school chum Simon. I am not sure what possessed me to invite him down here and I am only grateful that he didn’t arrive any sooner. At school Simon was a bit of a loose cannon at times and as an adult has gained quite a reputation for his drinking and womanising. I had obviously had a little too much to drink myself when I invited him.

Anyway, almost as soon as he arrived I noticed that Simon was paying particular attention to Anne who was still with us. In fact, she had been with us almost permanently since Tuesday. I had suggested she stay over for the next few days, but she decided against it as there seemed to be a large enough party as it was. Which was probably just as well as Simon’s attention did not seem to go down to well with her. Not that this seemed to deter him at all, even when she made a point of staying close to Dorchester. It seems that Simon is rather more thick-skinned than I had realised and even after it was made very clear to him that Anne was not interested, the only thing that seemed to distract him was Hope’s arrival in the early evening.

Hope had decided to accept my invitation to stay with us for a couple of days. I was particularly pleased that she brought Charlotte with her but disappointed that her elder daughter, Emily, had chosen to return to her home up north. I had thought this would have been an ideal opportunity to met her at last. But anyway, it was good to have Hope and Charlotte with us.

No sooner had Hope and Charlotte divested themselves of their luggage and coats than the old rogue virtually pounced on the poor pair. I am pleased to say that Charlotte gave him very short shrift, sending him away with the veritable flea in his ear. She may be only seventeen, but she is already quite a formidable young lady and is obviously more than a match for the likes of Simon Fullerton.

Yesterday morning, however, saw Simon return to form and even before we had finished breakfast he was making eyes at Hope. I must say that I found his manner most disagreeable and felt compelled to say something to stop him upsetting my guests. But before I had an opportunity to formulate any kind of plan I noticed that far from being annoyed by Simon’s attentions, Hope seemed to be encouraging him. At one point during the meal, I saw her place her hand on his arm as she laughed at something he had said. Seated beside her mother, Charlotte looked as surprised as I was by this turn of events.

In fact, Hope and Simon remained thick as thieves for the rest of the morning. I could see both Charlotte and Aunt Murdock were not happy about their closeness and made no attempt to hide their feelings. I can’t explain why, but seeing Hope with Simon made me quite angry.

 

The afternoon and evening were rather taken up with playing host to a number of the local families who I had invited for drinks and nibbles. I was kept fairly busy so had little time to ponder on this odd turn of events, but I was a little distracted non-the-less.

The biggest disappointment was when, late on Thursday evening, Hope announced that she would be returning to London on Friday morning with Simon. He had offered her a ride as he was joining friends in town for the New Year and she had already stated that she needed to return to work in the gallery to ready it for a New Year exhibition. I had hoped that she would return with Dorothy, Angela and myself on Saturday morning, although to be fair to both of them, I had not actually asked her as yet, so I can’t really blame her for accepting the offer.

I know that Hope is a grown woman and make her own decisions, but one can’t help feeling protective when one’s close friends are quite obviously making the wrong decisions with regards to their relationships. Simon is a great conversationalist and has added a brighter dimension to our little gathering, but his reputation with the ladies worries me. The way he switched his attention from Anne to Hope is an indication of just how fickle his feelings are. Charlotte is obviously taken in by his charms and I can only hope that she has some influence on her mother, particularly as I believe he has already invited her to join him for the New Year celebrations. I was going to ask Hope and Charlotte to join me for a little New Year soiree being organised by my chum Cambridge, but it seems this may not be possible now.

Charlotte and Hope set off for London with Simon a little before midday and I got the distinct impression that Charlotte was not too happy about the arrangement. I did suggest that she might like to stay another day but she said she felt she ought to stay with her mother, particularly as they had so much work to do at the gallery. I have to admit that I felt a little relief that she would be there as her presence may prevent Simon from making any undue advances on her mother.

We have a small party arranged for this evening but I have to say that at the moment I am not really in the party mood. On the whole, it has been a jolly good Christmas, just slightly marred by Hope’s early departure from our little company. But however the rest of the day progresses, it can not distract from the fact that this has been a very special holiday for me. Aunt Murdock has been uncharacteristically quiet, but that is hardly surprising – she is not getting any younger and it has been a particularly busy year for her. Dorchester seems have got over the loss of Annabelle thanks to the help of Anne who does seem rather taken with him. Dorothy has been in her element acting as hostess and cook and even I can see just how close she and Angela have become. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they decide to live together come the new year. My only concern there would be that Angela’s flat is much too far from the city for my liking.

When not cosying up to Sara, Nigel has spent a great deal of time working on some new business plan. I am worried that he works too hard sometimes, but he assures me he is fine and that his plans should mean he can give up working for the bank and instead be his own boss. I can’t deny that the idea of his making his own way makes me very proud and I have already offered him whatever support he needs.

For now, I must go and prepare for this evening’s little “do” and for our return to London tomorrow. Nigel is staying behind to spend the new year at the house, but the rest of us should be back home in time for lunch.