Anonymous - The Oyster Volume VI

'Hallo, boys! I'm so glad you could both come up to join our party,' she cried as she gave us both a tiny hug and a chaste peck on the cheek. 'It's so good of you to drop everything and rush up here at such short notice. Now, I've brought Hobart with me to look after your cases. There he is, standing by the luggage van. Will you show him which bags belong to you?'

Teddy and I pointed out our valises to the burly footman who wheeled them out on a trolley and loaded them into a small Riley motor car whilst Katie directed us to a gleaming black Austin York Landaulette which was attracting admiring glances from passers-by in the station forecourt A smartly dressed chauffeur jumped out and opened the door for us to enter the car and Katie said: 'Thank you, Gresham. We'll go straight back to the house but don't drive too quickly as Hobart is following you in the Riley with these gentlemen's luggage.'

As Teddy had never visited Woodstock before, Katie explained that the town derived its name from the Anglo-Saxon Wudestoc, 'the woody place', and that there were many rich historical associations. She said: 'Henry II used to come here to visit Fair Rosamund, the sister of Walter, Lord Clifford, and it was at Woodstock that Becket first broke with the King. Richard I came to Woodstock after his experiences in an Austrian prison and John to recover from the effects of signing Magna Charta, whilst Edward the Black Prince was born here and Mary temporarily imprisoned Elizabeth here after the death of their father, Henry VIII.'

Then, as we passed by the Palace of Blenheim which was built by the grateful nation for the Duke of Marlborough, she added lightly: 'The Palace is open to the public and we must take you round it before you leave.'

Gresham drove slowly through the winding country lane to Upper Chagford, then turned into the narrow driveway of Judson Manor which ran for a good half-mile through splendidly kept gardens. These were first laid out by Owen Harrowby, one of the assistants of the famous 'Capability' Brown who designed the gardens at Blenheim Palace.

We skidded to a halt on the loosely laid gravel in front of the impressive front steps of the imposing mansion built some sixty years ago by Sir Michael Bailey, a local merchant banker who had made a fortune in the railway building mania of the 1840s.

The Riley chugged up alongside us while a grave-looking old butler opened the front door and descended the half-dozen steps to welcome us as Gresham jumped out to help Katie out of the car.

'Good afternoon, Miss Katie,' intoned the butler. The sweet girl returned his greeting and went on: 'Fielding, these are the two gentlemen, Mr. Scott and Mr. Carmichael, who will be staying with us over the weekend. Mr. Scott will have the Blue Room and Mr. Carmichael the room opposite.'

The old retainer gave us a slight bow and said: 'Welcome to Judson Manor, gentlemen: let me take you upstairs. Hobart will take your cases up to your room and Janet will lay out your clothes.'

Then he turned back to Katie and said: 'Mrs. Matlock says that luncheon will be at two o'clock as you instructed.'

Katie nodded her approval. 'Very good, Fielding. Now, where are all the others? I suppose the Hansen twins are playing tennis, Miss Susie is still busy catching up on her correspondence while Mr. Pethick is out somewhere with his camera and Mr. Dennison is sitting in the drawing-room nursing a whisky and soda!'

Fielding allowed himself a tiny solemn smile. 'Yes, Miss Katie, the Danish ladies are indeed playing tennis. However, the two gentlemen went out together for a walk about half-past twelve but have yet to return.'

'H'm, knowing those two I would surmise they walked only as far as the Dog and Duck,' she commented as she led us into the house. After we had washed off the dust of our journey, Teddy and I went down into the sitting-room to join Katie in a glass of sherry.

'Ah, here are Andrew and Teddy, Susie, let me introduce them to you,' said our hostess to a most attractive girl who was sitting with her on a brown Chesterfield.

Susie could have been no more than eighteen with long tresses of light gold dusted hair, a cheeky little face with a flawless complexion and luscious red lips that glowed with promise. She was wearing a white close-fitting blouse through which her small but perfectly formed breasts jutted out like two firm apples ripe for the mouth. From the way his jaw dropped as Katie made the introductions, it was crystal clear that Teddy was bowled over by her pretty cousin. I wondered fleetingly whether any pairing-off had already occurred before our arrival. Then two identical slim flaxen-haired girls dressed in tennis shirts and short white skirts came into the room.

'Alexa, Erika, did you enjoy your game?' asked Katie. 'Come in and meet our two new arrivals, Andrew Scott and Teddy Carmichael. Gentlemen, I am sure you cannot wait to meet these ravishing blonde beauties who are my lovely Danish chums, the misses Alexa and Erika Hansen from Copenhagen.'

I rose to my feet, overwhelmed by the vivacious twins who, I was shortly to discover, had been blessed with sunny natures as appealing as their pretty faces with their laughing blue eyes, delicate little noses and rosebud mouths which were simply made to be kissed.

'Good afternoon, ladies,' I stammered. Alexa, whose eyes were perhaps a touch larger and of a slightly lighter blue than those of her sister, answered in an impeccable if slightly accented English: 'Good afternoon, Mr. Scott. Would you and everyone excuse us for fifteen minutes? We just need to wash and change after our game.'

Moments later Ian Pethick and Jack Dennison, the other two male members of the party, arrived back from (as Katie had correctly surmised) the Dog and Duck. Ian was a handsome wiry fellow of about my age with a rather serious disposition, whose main hobby was stamp-collecting although later, at the luncheon table, Katie whispered to me that Ian had the reputation of being a superb cunnilinguist. Anyhow, his family had been friendly with the Judsons for many years. Jack was slightly older, having just celebrated his twentieth birthday, and was more broadly built, with a bronzed complexion and twinkling grey eyes.

Both these gentlemen appeared amiable enough. During the course of conversation I discovered that Jack Dennison had palled up during his time at University with Bentleigh Barnes-Williams, an old school chum of mine who was number three in the winning Cambridge team in the Boat Race four years ago.

'I rowed a little myself at Cambridge and stroked my college team,' remarked Jack. 'But I wasn't in the same class as Tony even though he tried to coach me and the rest of the chaps from the river bank. He would always hammer home to us that long slides coupled with a long swing, leg work, steadiness and a firm grip would secure victory.'

'How very true, Jack,' murmured Katie with a wicked grin. 'And this would be very good advice for other sports besides rowing. I would like to meet this gentleman, he is clearly a man who knows what he is talking about.'

'Ah, but it's actions not words that are important,' Jack murmured as Fielding opened the door and announced that luncheon was ready to be served. I was delighted that Katie took my arm and we led the others into the dining-room where we enjoyed a splendid repast of vichyssoise soup, poached salmon, wild roast duck with chestnuts and orange sauce served with a variety of vegetables and potatoes. This was rounded off with ices and fresh fruits, including some early peaches from the greenhouse, all washed down with an excellent Haut Barsac white wine.

'We really should now take a constitutional after that delicious meal,' remarked Ian Pethick. But the two Danish girls pleaded exhaustion after their strenuous game of tennis, whilst Teddy and I demurred on the somewhat spurious grounds that we were tired after our journey from London. Katie suddenly remembered that she had some household chores to perform.