Skip to main content

A Right Royal Surprise!

 

It is late November. All is quiet at Much Malarkey Manor. Missus’ Miggins, Pumphrey, Slocombe and Poo are VERY much looking forward to a calm and restful Christmas this year. Fat chance of THAT happening, says the Lady Author…

‘King Charles is at the front door,’ announces Mrs Poo, marching into the room where Mrs Miggins is currently ensconced. ‘He says would we mind awfully if he had a quick word, thanks very much?’

‘King Charles?’ says Mrs Miggins, looking up from her work.

She is sitting in her new craft studio, which was added to the footprint of Much Malarkey Manor during its rebuilding in 2023, after the devastating fire that razed the old Manor to the ground just before Christmas 2022. She is trying not to lose her temper with a new machine which punches out attractive shapes from cardboard for attaching to greetings cards. She has already, somehow, managed to punch the shape of a jolly robin out of her best smock top. Practical jokes á la Mrs Poo, then, are the last thing she needs.

Mrs Poo rolls her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she says, somewhat impatiently. ‘King Charles the Third, Monarch of this Realm, Defender of the Faith, gawd bless ‘im and all who sail in him. Shall I let him in? It’s a bit nippy out and the tips of his ears look pink to the point of frostbite.’

Mrs Miggins, who is also knee-deep in raffia, various colours of felt, and pots of glitter in her attempt to make some artisan Christmas cards, narrows her eyes. ‘The ACTUAL King Charles?’ she says.

‘Oh well, if you don’t believe me, go and see for yourself,’ says Mrs Poo, airily. ‘Quite frankly, I have better things to do than stand here waiting for you decide whether something is fact or not.’

‘THE KING IS HERE!!!!’ shrieks a voice at the doorway of the studio, and the voice is swiftly followed by the appearance of Mrs Pumphrey wearing a hastily assembled outfit of cream twinset with navy trim and a fascinator in the shape of a petunia, the best she could rustle up at short notice for an unexpected regal visit. ‘He is actually here!’ she puffs. ‘I found him on the doorstep when I went to put out the milk bottles.’

‘See,’ says Mrs Poo, glaring at Mrs Miggins.

Mrs Miggins, who is more inclined to believe an hysterical Mrs Pumphrey, especially when she is wearing a cream twinset, jumps to her feet, scattering miniature pompoms everywhere. ‘Well, where is he now?’ she says, making haste towards the craft room door.

‘Mrs Slocombe is entertaining him in the kitchen,’ says Mrs Pumphrey.

‘In the KITCHEN??’ says Mrs Miggins. ‘Is that the best she could offer our esteemed monarch? The kitchen?? Why didn’t she take him into the formal drawing room, for the love of St Brigid?’

‘She has some madeleines in the oven,’ says Mrs Pumphrey. ‘They need keeping an eye on because it’s a very fine baking line between perfectly spongy but with a delicately crisp surface, and burnt to a cinder.’

But Mrs Miggins can’t hear her. She has raced off down the hallway at high speed, most impressive in fact for a hen that is now approaching seventeen years old. At the door of the kitchen, which is slightly ajar, she brakes to a sudden halt, smooths down her feathers and flicks a stray Pritt Stick from her wing. Inside, she can hear Mrs Slocombe chatting away and then an unmistakable voice responding with a big laugh. Taking a deep breath, Mrs Miggins makes to step into the kitchen but is, instead, buffeted in by a hotly-in-pursuit Mrs Pumphrey, whose braking ability is pretty non-existent, especially in a pair of sling-backs.

‘And then I wrung it out and hung it over the fence. Took three weeks to dry properly!’ says Mrs Slocombe.   

King Charles, for yea verily, it is ACTUALLY him himself, is wiping tears of hilarity from his eyes.

‘Betty, you are an absolute hoot!’ he says. ‘Three weeks to dry out – hilarious!!’

‘Betty?’ says Mrs Miggins. ‘First name terms already??’

‘Aah,’ says Mrs Slocombe. ‘Your Majesty, may I introduce the other lady residents of Much Malarkey Manor – Mrs Laetitia Miggins and Mrs Gloria In Excelsis Deo Pumphrey.’

Mrs Pumphrey has already flumped into a massive curtsey and resembles a collapsed feather duster only with more crêpe de chine. She has been waiting all her life for this moment. ‘Your Majesty,’ she says, looking up and grinning like a loon.

Mrs Miggins bobs a far more sedate greeting, on account of her knees. ‘Your Majesty,’ she says, ‘what a great and quite unexpected honour.’

King Charles has risen from his seat and shakes both hens warmly by the wing. Mrs Miggins notices his jacket is covered in a light dusting of madeleine crumbs. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you both,’ he says. ‘And I am sorry for the unannounced arrival but I wanted to travel incognito. I have a special request to ask of you all and I don’t want to the Press to catch a whiff of it. You know what they’re like…’

‘Scare-mongering, manipulative, holier-than-thou git faces?’ says Mrs Poo, who has appeared at the kitchen door. ‘Morning, Your Maj.’

‘This is Mrs Polovitska, Your Majesty,’ says Mrs Miggins, grimacing slightly at her friend’s over-familiarity. ‘Also known as Mrs Poo. She has no manners and votes Labour, but we forgive her because she’s jolly handy with a spanner.’

‘As was my mother, the late Queen Elizabeth the Second,’ says King Charles.

‘Gawd rest her soul,’ chorus the hens.

There is a moment’s silence whilst everyone remembers what an all-ground great gal was Queen Elizabeth.

‘Is Queen Camilla not with you, Sir?’ says Mrs Pumphrey.

‘Oh yes,’ says King Charles, waving his hand vaguely in the direction of outside. ‘She was parking the  Jaguar then went after some suspicious-looking pheasant that was hanging around in your herbaceous borders.’

‘Oh, that’ll be Ptolemy,’ says Mrs Slocombe. ‘He isn’t a threat to the herbs, Sir. He went out to pick some sage and thyme for me, for the stuffing.’

‘Ah,’ says King Charles. ‘In that case, we might want to….’

‘Caught the little thief!’ comes a shout, and through the back door of the kitchen bursts Queen Camilla, an hysterical pheasant caught in an iron head-lock beneath her arm. ‘Helping himself to the herbs he was,’ Queen Camilla continues. ‘Bold as brass. Even had a pair of those little herb snipping scissors on him.’

‘Eeeuuurghhhhhh!’ says a semi-strangled Ptolemy, his eyes bulging and his beak turning blue.

‘It’s all right Camilla,’ says King Charles, ‘you can let him go. These ladies say they know him.’

Camilla looks reluctant to release her grip on her captured quarry.

‘Camilla…LEAVE HIM!’ says Charles.

‘Well, really, Charles,’ says Camilla, releasing the unfortunate Ptolemy and brushing down her coat. ‘There’s no need to SHOUT!’

Mrs Miggins has been watching all the action in stunned silence. Sometimes, she thinks, you get up in the morning and the day never pans out how you expect it to.

‘What is it exactly we can do for your Majesties?’ she says, when all the hubbub has died down and Mrs Slocombe has made another pot of tea.

Comments

aileen g said…
Thank you for continuing the very amusing tales of Christmas at Much Malarky - definitely something to look forward to in these dark December days.
Denise said…
Welcome back, Aileen! I hope you enjoy this year’s story. 🙂
aileen g said…
Thanks Denise - I've never really been "away" but have followed your blog sporadically through the year. Did you ever write more of the stories of the one where the brother had died and was haunting his sister? Sorry, I can't quite bring to mind the names (was it Min?), but that was one of the first things of yours that I read. I know you have been busy with all sorts of things since then.
Denise said…
Hello Aileen - ah, ‘Clive and Min.’ I’ve done a bit of work on it this year as I want to finish it and self-publish it as a novel. There’s been a lot of other ‘stuff’ taking my attention away from it this year but it WILL be completed. It will!!
aileen g said…
Yes, Clive and Min - the names came to me last night when I went to bed. I loved those stories so will definitely look out for a novel. Enjoying this year's doings though - well done.

Popular posts from this blog

The Frosted Dawn Enigma

The decorators are in at the moment. Stairs and landing. Given my previous history of 'Hoo Ha Occurring on Stairs ' - reference the Trapped Under the Sofa Incident and the Foot Wedged Between Bookcase and Stair Rise Debacle - I thought it wise to pay for professionals to decorate the stairs and landing rather than get myself in a mix with ladder and plank combinations and achieve the Magic Three of staircase accidents. The decorators are a father and son combo who go by the  names of Craig and David. This automatically causes me entertainment. 'Came in on a Monday, prepped, filled and undercoated, back on Thursday, first top coating, by Friday finishing touches...' Okay, not as frisky or well-scanned as the original song, but you get where I'm coming from. Anyway, before they started the job Craig asked what colour I wanted for the walls. 'Same colour as the downstairs walls, please,' said I. 'Dulux Frosted Dawn.' And then white for ...

Day 1 - Decisions Are Made Beyond the Author's Control.

‘Well,’ I say, looking at the expectant faces gathered around the huge table in the Great Dining Hall of Much Malarkey Manor, ‘I didn’t think it was going to happen this year, but it is!’ There is a sharp intake of breath as everyone wonders of what I speak. I’ve been muttering about all sorts recently, and I’m not talking liquorice here either.   ‘The Much Malarkey Manor Annual and Traditional Christmas Story!’ I say, and wait for the expulsed air of relief to settle before I continue. ‘I thought we had done it all. I thought we had covered every Christmas story there was. I’ve been wracking my brains for a full two months now, trying to come up with something we haven’t done before and then it hit me! We haven’t done a version of one of the Great Christmas Films of Yore!’ ‘Your what?’ says Mrs Slocombe, who is more interested in the selection of pastries I have brought to this breakfast meeting, because that is what one does, isn’t it? Eat pastries at breakfast...

Sun Puddles

A few weeks ago, I met up with a dear friend for a meditation and healing afternoon, both of us being light workers on the spirit pathway. It did me good to re-engage in a bit of focused energy channelling (because I have let my practice slip somewhat) and during the afternoon the words ‘sun puddles’ popped into my head.  Now, I know this wasn’t my human brain thinking these words because I have never heard the phrase before; when I arrived home, I looked it up and said to myself, ‘Aaah, you mean sun spots!’ This is a sun puddle... ...there! That thing that Flora is lying on. No, not the sofa - the warm patch of sunshine on the sofa. Here are Flora and Bambino sharing a sun puddle... This proves that no matter how much they scrap with each other and try to denude each other of fur all over my rugs, they secretly share a mutual and fond admiration. I think. And here is Bambino on a sun puddle that has come to rest on my legs... It’s his casual, ‘I’m so cool’ pose. Metaphorically coo...