The Earl Is In Hiding
No one is in charge here today, there is no final authority, no Bismarck to direct the troops. The Earl, on the pretext of gardening, is hiding in the potting shed, while I, Haskell, must deal with a contingent from the TG & BS, led by Prudentia Chalfont-Smythe and DCI Borchardt from Torquay. While they cool their heels in the foyer, Depew can sulk in the kitchen, resentful that he must act as master of ceremonies during this Inquiry Into Events Over the Skies of Cornwall, as the Deputy Chief Inspector put it. Apparently grouse hunting is by Permit Only this time of year. Utilizing attack helicopters to hunt grouse, whilst not illegal, de facto, is frowned upon. DCI Borchardt would like the opportunity to lecture The Cringing Earl, now cowering near the property line, a line in dispute with a wretched neighbor.
It falls to me, then, to discuss matters literary. After an arduous day yesterday I managed to crack open John Banville’s Booker Award winning novel, The Sea. After reading a page or two my eyes grew heavy and thoughts grew dim. I had to stop for the night…
They’re chasing the Earl through the garden! Depew has ‘fingered’ the earl, wretched sod! How can anyone review a book in the midst of this mayhem? Mrs. Chalfont-Smythe is making steam in my direction…time to flee.