Nigel's
Notebook
by Deborah Z
I
awoke to find the sun streaming in through the gap in the curtains. Jumping
out of bed, I flung the windows wide open and looked out at the blue sky,
scattered with small cotton wool clouds.
"Lizzie," I announced, "Today I聮m going out on my
bicycle. Are there any errands you聮d like me to run?"
Lizzie is rarely at her best first thing in the morning, and she looked
at me with bleary eyes and muttered something indistinguishable.
"Come on, old girl," I said, "It聮s almost 7 o聮clock
on a glorious spring day."
This had the effect of making her jump out of bed with a shriek of:
"7 o聮clock? And I聮ve got the representative from the European
Commission coming to see if they can use Lower Loxley Hall for one of
their conferences, at 9. Stop dawdling Nigel 聳 and if you聮re
going out, take those letters in my office and post them."
After
a jolly good breakfast of free-range eggs, bacon and some of Tommy聮
organic sausages, followed by Jill聮s marmalade and toast, all washed
down liberally with tea, I donned my cycling gear. Pausing to pick-up
Lizzie聮s letters, and abstracting 拢20 from petty cash to pay
for the stamps, I strolled into the grounds. The wildlife garden was a
picture: amongst the sea of bluebells I could see the primroses and cowslips
beginning to push their way through. Butterflies flitted from flower to
flower, the air was full of bird song, and over by the birdbath, I noticed
a fine pair of great tits.
"聮Morning,
Mr Pargetter," said Hayley, startling me out of my reverie, and adding
"Are you going out on your bike?"
This
last remark I found somewhat unnecessary, since I was wearing my special
shoes, bicycling pants (the seat reinforced with chamois leather), my
yellow jumper and was carrying my gloves and my safety helmet. Hardly
an outfit in which I would present myself if I was off to visit the bank
manager!
At
that moment, the twins came tearing round the corner, ringing the bells
on their fairy bikes, pedalling furiously, and shouting, "Beep beep
聳 out the way Daddy!" before disappearing in the direction of
the folly.
"Won聮t
be long before they聮ll be able to accompany on my rides," I
remarked to Hayley.
"I think you might have to wait a few years yet," she replied,
"Anyway, I聮d better go and see what they聮re up to. Have
a nice ride."
Now
I know I聮ve said this before, but at the risk of being a bore, I
think it聮s worth repeating: you really don聮t know what you miss
speeding along, cooped up in a car. It really was the most wonderful day,
and as I rode along the country lanes, I couldn聮t help paraphrasing
Browning.
"Oh to be in Ambridge, now that spring is here?" I recited to
myself. I would have gone further, but unfortunately that is the only
line I can remember.
Arriving
at the village green, I stopped off at the shop, to buy some stamps, and
waited patiently whilst Betty counted out my change, before deciding to
buy a can of Tizer and a couple of chocolate flakes. I聮m afraid that
I became rather partial to them during my time as Mr Snowy!
Coming
out of the shop, I decided that I聮d go to Lakey Hill and see how
far up I could get, before being forced to walk. When I arrived at the
foot of the hill, I could see that someone was already at the top. As
I got nearer I could hear whoever it was playing what seemed to be a pipe
of some kind, rather like the one I had when I was a member of the recorder
club at my prep school. I must admit though, he was a sight better than
me 聳 I never progressed much beyond "London聮s burning".
I
dismounted from my bicycle and approached him with interest, surprised
to see it was young Christopher Carter. The breeze ruffled his dark curly
hair and although naked from the waist up, he was clad in the most extraordinary
pair of trousers, which appeared to be made of animal hair of some kind.
I think I must have stared rather rudely at him, for he said,
"Demeter".
At first I thought this rather cryptic, but then I remembered that the
poor boy had been born with a slight disfigurement, and that this had
obviously affected his pronunciation. Recovering my manners, I replied,
"And I聮m very please to meet you, Christopher. Do you mind if
I join you? I聮m a bit out of breath after that climb."
He nodded his assent, and I sat down beside him and offered him some of
my Tizer and chocolate. He shook his head, and pulled out from a leather
satchel a brown paper package, containing bread and some rather smelly
cheese, and a small bottle, which he uncorked and began drinking from.
"I
say, " I said, jovially, "I do hope that聮s not wine, young
Christopher!"
He replied, "Retsina", which I understood to be his way of saying
Ribena. We sat in companionable silence, each of us munching his provisions,
and when we had finished, he picked up his flute and once again began
playing. His manner of playing was masterly, and the tunes odd and strangely
disturbing. I think I must have dozed off, for I had a strange dream,
in which Christopher was dancing amidst the sheep - which suddenly turned
into ethereal young maidens.
I
awoke with a start. The sky had clouded over, it had started to turn a
bit chilly, and I felt the first spots of rain. There was no sign of Christopher
and the sheep were grazing normally. Unaccountably I was filled with a
sense of panic. I seized my bicycle and sped full pelt in the direction
of Lower Loxley. It began to rain heavily and by the time I reached home
I was soaked to the skin. Luckily, Lizzie was out, and thus unable to
make a scathing remark on the length of time I聮d been gone. I ran
myself a hot bath, and lay back among the bubbles.
It
really had been a most disconcerting encounter.
