Family Fortunes

Dear Diary,

Obviously, my own domestic situation is one of pure bliss. How could it be otherwise with Mistress Ruthie to worship and adore, and Tucker to deal with my every need? Even now, under a grey sky, with a gentle autumnal rain falling, the estate looks superb; the geese are feeding happily with a promise of foie gras and good Sauternes to come.

Alas, it is not so for others. Take Mummy X for example. How unfortunate can a woman be? Her young daughter is sleeping with her tennis coach, which may, one supposes, be good for a love-game but is not much help with the forehand. The daughter herself says this was due to blackmail: although of an unspecified nature and with which the coach is not charged. Then, when Mummy X discovers the pair in bed together, the daughter unaccountably omits to say that the relationship is involuntary.

Faced with such mistrust, one can readily understand Mummy X’s decision to say nothing at all. I mean, who would say that their 13 year old was in a sexual relationship with an adult in a position of trust? Especially when there may be trophies to be won. Dear Diary, my heart weeps for Mummy X: as if the decision she made was not both understandable and inevitable. People can be so cruel. As Mummy X told the jury, she talked to the accused for a couple of hours. What more could a mother do?

Meanwhile, the Sharrow Bay Hotel, much admired for its wonderful cuisine and accomodation, not to mention its impressive prices, has been the scene of another dysfunctional family event. On this occasion the brother-in-law of the bride allegedly decided to shove her over. I can only speculate that he was wearing the same dress and that she had refused to go home and change.

Dearest Diary, I am quite decided. For the next six months I shall refuse invitations, and I shall cancel my lessons with the tennis professional. Life is simply too dangerous.