Fortescue Towers

Random ramblings from the life and times of Col. Fortescue Featherstonehaugh Fortescue.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Staff problems

Ones good friend Lady J has been discovering that the old adage of "You just cannot get the staff these days" still has a rather unpleasant ring of truth about it. Concerned about the poor state of her boundaries and with worries that the travellers camped on the village green might suddenly encroach on her land or that several swarthy fellows might suddenly arrive and offer to tarmacadam her drive (although given that her drive is almost a mile in length, one fears that a few tons of surfacing material purloined from the nearest roadworks might not quite suffice unless of course the nearest roadworks happen to be the M25) she attempted to secure the services of a reputable tradesman.

Naturally, in light of events one believes that her suspicions should have been raised when her 'reputable' boundary builder arrived three days late with only a bicycle and a packet of superstrength Capstan in his possession and demanded that her cook put the kettle on before he had even progressed beyond the kitchen garden then proceeded to drink tea every half hour and even intrude upon Lady Js luncheon. Apparently it was only the fellows particularly ripe personal odour that kept her upright and prevented the need for the smelling salts to be used. Not only this but when asked how he liked it the impertinent chap replied "Strong, hot and sweet". Although her cook assured her that this was not some lurid suggestion about bedroom matters but merely a comment on how tradesmen liked their tea, Lady J could not help but notice that he winked and gestured several times whilst making the comment but put it down to the poor fellow having a severe facial tic instead.
However, after neglecting the task for which he had been employed and several incidents that led to him being banned from entering the kitchen or being found in the vicinity of cook, his descriptions of 'how he liked it' finally led to him being grabbed by his personage and thrown into the nearest duck pond by the groomsman who had taken offence at his language.

Of course, this still leaves her ladyship without proper boundaries and the chance of waking up one morning to discover the croquet lawn gravelled over and several caravans parked on the tennis courts. Clackthorpe did offer a few 'items' from his service days but these were vetoed due to their highly explosive nature. Not of course because her ladyship was worried about the travellers but simply due to the abundance of wildlife in the area. Relations with the village are strained enough after the problems over Easter without residents being pelted with high velocity badgers from Lady Js herbaceous borders.