"Hello, Papa. Escape Mummy's supervision for a few moments at last?"
"Hello, Sheridan. Yes, she's gone down to the Church Hall with Elizabeth to heckle the poor Vicar about the Communion vessels; she thinks they should use something more elegant for Holy Eucharist at our parish. I've managed to convince her I have a migraine today, so I was excused from chauffeur duty."
"Well done, Papa. You use that excuse very judiciously; Mummy hasn't figured out you're shamming when you tell her that. Now what kind of mischief do you want me to assist you with? It's been ages since YOU'VE called me."
I took a deep breath. "I think it's time your Mummy came down for an extended visit with her only beloved son. She's had a tough time lately, especially since we had to sell that place in the country she forced me to buy, and I'd like to cheer her up a bit."
"Commendable, Father dear. Tarquin's gone on a holiday with a biker gang, I'm on my own, and some time with Mummy would be a laugh."
"Agreed then. How soon can you take her?"
"Now, now, I sense some urgency in your tone. This sounds like one of your old MI 5 operations. You must tell me what's in it for you, aside from some freedom from Mummy's little schemes."
"How could you think a thing like that? Believe it or not, I'm very happy with your Mother. For all her trouble, Hyacinth is almost everything I could hope for in a wife: she cooks wonderful meals, keeps the house immaculate, and organizes my time completely. It's like being in the Army; I don't have a worry in the world, and I rarely have to do my own thinking."
"You've done some original thinking here. So why do I have to sit her for two weeks?"
I looked out the window of my house at the garden. The girls were back from their errand with the Vicar, and the woman of my life, Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced Bouquet) was running her mouth at full speed. She was chatting over the fence with our neighbor, Elizabeth Warden, while her brother Emmitt Hawthorne practiced the piano inside. Emmitt was casting furtive glances over his shoulder, pounding the keys in an effort to be as busy as possible lest Hyacinth have a chance to "sing at him", as he put it. Elizabeth was working very hard to have a normal conversation with someone who obviously wasn't listening to her, her eyes darting about while her hands were clasping her elbows hard. She caught me in a sidelong glance, and a hint of a smile crossed her face as she noticed me on the phone.
Shaking my head, I answered: "Our neighbor Emmitt is leaving on a cruise tomorrow; he's working as a cocktail pianist to make some money. He'll be gone for two weeks. . ."
". . .And you want to keep Elizabeth company while he's gone. How much am I getting out of this? You don't let Mummy send me anything beyond the basics, and I feel so embarrassed around Tarquin. . ."
The manipulative twerp! I had the answer for him: "I have a few pictures of you and Tarquin that will probably make your beloved Mummy go spare if she ever saw them. You don't need to know how I got them or where they're being kept."
A gasp came over the line. "But I've told Mummy I'm gay, over and over and over again."
"And has she ever listened to you?" There was a long silence. "I thought not. Your Mummy still has dreams of marrying you into a prominent family someday, either a royal, a member of the nobility, or an industrialist after you finish University. Seeing evidence of your obvious disinterest would break her heart and we both know that. You'll be in the same category as your Uncle Onslow and Aunt Daisy: you'll be lucky if she ever mentions your name again."
"Point taken. All right, she can come down anytime, but I do need some help, Papa. You know how expensive entertaining Mummy is, and I can't use Tarquin's money."
"All right, Sheridan, all right. I'll wire you two thousand pounds right after I send her off. That should keep you busy, and anything you don't spend on her you can keep."
A grim chuckle traveled down the wire. "Wow, thanks for the bankroll."
"Leave the sardonicism out of it. Do as you're told, and I may be more generous in future."
"Point taken again. I'll call her in a few minutes and we'll set this up."
"Fine. Just as long as she's on the train two days from now, I'll be happy."
"Two days? You're waiting that long?'
"You know it'll take her that long to get packed and have my time organized before she can go."
"Right. All right, Papa. It's a deal."
"Thank you, son."
I rang off and sighed. The hard work was done; the rest would be easy once Hyacinth set her sights on visiting the dearest man in her life. My absence would be tolerated once I presented my excuse, which was reasonable and would convince her of my noble character and unselfish service to Queen and country. From here on it should set up itself without much effort on my part.
Most people don't understand why I put up with Hyacinth. Trust me, after ten years doing espionage behind the Iron Curtain and having to look over my shoulder every waking moment, living with her has been what I've always craved. My life undercover had enough excitement and thrills for three or four lifetimes: James Bond was a slacker as far as I'm concerned. These days I never have to worry about what's in my food and drink, if anything dangerous is in the house, or which hidden enemy may be lurking around the corner. Hyacinth is superb at drawing attention to herself and away from me, and I rarely have to wonder if there's anything behind her little schemes other than vain attempts to climb the social ladder. There is only one thing lacking in my life, something she thinks undignified for people our age to do, so from time to time I use my creativity to make up the difference.
Hyacinth was leading Elizabeth bodily through the front door to have coffee, so I slipped quickly out the back, fetching my gardening apron en route, to dig around in the flowers. It was a perfect day in England, a bright morning without a cloud in the sky, just the right temperature for outdoor work. Emmitt saw the ladies go in, and came out to talk with me over the fence. "Hi, Richard. Lovely day. How goes it?"
"Splendidly, Emmitt, splendidly. And you?"
"Not bad. Looking forward to some time off, and playing show tunes for an appreciate audience. Who knows, maybe I'll find some rich widow in search of an in house pianist."
"Who knows? Just be careful of walking down the aisle again."
Emmitt crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "No fear of that; once bitten, as they say. Although Richard, you are the most remarkable man I have ever known. How on earth do you live with that woman? I just can't imagine putting up with. . .that for any length of time."
"Oh, I'm an easy man to please, and Hyacinth is really sweet person beneath her exterior."
"If you say so. She must be a wild woman under the sheets." His eye took on an odd gleam, and he gave me a quirky grin.
I shook my head and smiled. "When you get older, Emmitt, some things aren't as important as when you're young. A peck on the cheek, a hot cup of tea and a warm smile are enough when you get to be our age."
He snorted, shook his head in disbelief and looked away. "Well, I hope Elizabeth doesn't get bored while I'm gone." I barely suppressed a snort, and he didn't move until I recovered my stoic manner. "By the way, Emmitt, Elizabeth never talks about her husband. I've always wondered why is that."
He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, they've just drifted apart. No big calamity, no big argument, just ships sailing in different directions. He's passed up opportunities to visit home regularly for over a decade, and Elizabeth's content with that. She gets a nice cheque every month, so she's not going to divorce him."
"I see. Well, if she's content with that."
"Rather. It's kind of funny when you think of it: my marriage ended with a bang and hers ended with a whimper. She never says anything about him, even when she talks with her daughter, there's no pictures of him around the house, and I'm sure she only wears her wedding ring to fend off the riff raff." He looked through my house window and moved around, trying to find Hyacinth before starting to move away from me. "I'd better move along, in case she comes out the door and sees me. I can't bear to hear that warble this early in the day."
"Have a safe voyage, Emmitt. Stay in touch." I shook his hand and gave him a friendly nod, which he returned.
"Cheerio." He glanced at my front door again and darted around the corner down the street. A couple of people walked past my drive and threw cautious glances as they passed, trying to see if the coast was clear. Passers by were always cautious around my house. It's a privacy generally unknown in this suburb.