Dear Honourable Hadji
Nothing changes. Not even the fact that you have seemed to have forgotten that we do have ” the internet!” here in Elgon. I admit, however, that it is rather novel receiving a letter and Ngare is now enjoying wandering off to the Post Office each week to see if there is another missive from you. I guess he misses you. It has been a long time and he has been a loyal and faithful servant and friend to us both!
Anyway, you have to picture it. Each morning I sit outside the bedroom, our old bedroom, and watch the sunrise. Still nothing to beat those Kenyan sunrises. I plonk myself on one of the Steamer Chairs and light my Marlboro. Yes, yes, still smoking them. However I have since started to use a cigarette holder, a la Princess Margaret! For one I didn’t like the smell of nicotine in my hair and neither did Nigel. And secondly, of course, I thought it may do me less damage but not so sure it does. Still wearing one of my lovely Kimonos. Do you remember I had a whole wardrobe of them to wear throughout the day. Cant imagine not wafting around in them until noon. Disgracefully louche, but who cares? My current one has been trimmed with some rather fantastic pink malabou feathers, although they do seem to moult and stick in either the butter or marmalade if I stand up to reach for another slice of toast across the table. Still used to feathers sticking in butter from where oyu were training the Falcon. Salim wasnt it?
Since having found those awful gold slippers of yours in the Linen Cupboard I have taken to wearing them. They are, as you can guess, slightly too large, but I shuffle around in them and could be mistaken for one of the house boys if you were only listening to footfall around the house.
The Devonshire-Morriss’ are here. Been here for ages, it seems. To be fair they wanted to come after the rains but I said not to chance it because as you know the roads will probably be washed away, so they have come already and settled into our daily life. Well Margery is having cookery lessons from Elinah who, it has to be said, has been more than patient. For Heavens Sake, Margery doesn’t even know how to roll out pastry and each night as she is preparing dinner we are preparing the indigestion juice for afterwards, washed down with some Absinthe for good measure. Cant take any chances at our age, for sure.
Jeremy is all about the garden and its fair to say it did look rather lovely until the storm the other night and his dahlias and glads. ended up in the pool where the ‘Phants come to drink. I found him the next morning squatting down by the edge with his head in his hands. I cant be sure but it is possible he was sobbing. Some odd groaning noise was coming from deep down in his nether regions. He does have a sense of the melodramatic don’t you feel? Maybe its attention as Margery doesn’t seem to spend a lot of time with him any more. That’s the trouble when you marry someone years younger than you. They just lose interest and go off you and find someone younger and more virile.
And yes I am remembering the time I caught you both infragente in the back of the Rolls late at night after we had all returned from the “Empire Club” . Amazing I have forgiven her, but it was all so long ago. I still smile when I think of me pointing the elephant gun at you both and you losing your erection right in front of all of our eyes. Oh such a sight to be sure. So yes, I can understand that Margery just seems him as an old man now and lets face it, he ruddy well is. However her new reluctant lover seems to be cookery and his, gardening. Oh death, where is they sting?
Are you coming to visit then?