The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 17d: The Batting Order Ch. 04
As with all my stories all events and characters are fictitious.
Part 3.
Paul.
I pulled up on the gravel drive in front of my grandfather's cottage next to my father's Jaguar.
The front door was open and Millie, my old Labrador bitch bounded out to meet me. I made a fuss of her, rubbing behind her ears, pushing her away then letting her come back to me.
"Oh Paul." My mother said from the doorway. "Why do you always leave everything to the last moment?"
"Leave what?" I protested.
"There are five of you staying here and nothing in the house to eat or drink. Today, of all days. You know I have so much to do."
There was a cellar full of wine and I was sure I could have found some bottles of beer. Still, we had to think of the girls I supposed.
"Thank you for thinking about that."
"Somebody has to." She looked at me and adjusted the collar on my shirt. "You need a haircut."
"I'm only down to play cricket." I had visions of her ordering me to the barbers.
"Ah Paul." My father came out of the house and placed his arm about my mother's waist. "I've put some fresh sheets on the beds for you. Are you coming down to the nets?"
"When the other's arrive." I replied, rubbing Millie beneath her ear.
"I'm glad you have brought all the girls with you." Mother said taking my fathers hand from her hip and walking with it in her own towards their car. "We could do with a hand with the teas. Mrs Clarks gout has flared up and Jill and Janet are away on holiday still."
She made it sound as if it were a crime to holiday in August. I wasn't sure of the girls' reaction to being volunteered for making sandwiches and teas in the old pavilion and the marquee. Yes I was.
There was always a good crowd when we played East Chipstable. A rivalry in cricket that went back to Victorian times. The local good causes would have tents set up selling cakes and flowers and nick-nacks. The pony club would bring some mounts and give rides. There would be a fire engine for the children to clamber all over. The pub would set up a small bar in one corner of the main tent. It was going to be a fun day.
I watched my parents as they drove away then walked into the house with Millie getting under my feet. I loved this building. It had once been the site of a much larger house of which only the cellars and the underground passage to the walled garden remained. I hoped it would be mine one day. Grandfather hadn't been well since the death of my grandmother. Jenny said he was dying of a broken heart. He was only seventy-four, I told her, and he would have at least another ten years. She became quite upset and burst into tears. Women are strange.
He was in Spain. He went three times most years. I think he would have moved out permanently if grandmother had still been with us.