Free Rosy Is My Relative by Gerald Durrell Page B

number of armed gamekeepers about. Rosy herself did not help matters. Thoroughly spoilt on her rich diet, she had taken to trumpeting loudly and shrilly if her supply of peaches ran out. Both Lord Fenneltree and Adrian were in a constant state of panic in case Lady Fenneltree heard the noise and decided to investigate. On the afternoon before the party they did, in fact, come within an ace of discovery. They were all playing a gentle game of croquet on the smooth green lawn at the back of the house when suddenly the sound of shrill and indignant trumpetings was wafted to them from the direction of the stables. Her ladyship, just about to play a shot, stiffened and stared at Lord Fenneltree who, in a desperate endeavour to drown Rosy, had burst into loud and tuneless song.
    “What is that noise?” enquired her ladyship ominously.
    “Noise?” said his lordship, hitting a croquet ball with unnecessary violence. “Noise? D’you mean my singing, my Love?”
    “I do not,” said her ladyship grimly.
    “I heard nothing,” said his lordship, “did you, Adrian?”
    “No,” said Adrian, wishing he were somewhere else. “Not a thing.”
    “It sounded,” said her ladyship, “not unlike a trumpet or a cornet or one of those vulgar instruments they play in bands.”
    Again the shrill sound of Rosy’s displeasure floated to them on the breeze.
    “There!” said her ladyship. “ That’s the noise. ”
    “Ah! That,” said Adrian desperately. “I think that’s the local hunt.”
    Lady Fenneltree was not convinced. She stood listening with her head on one side, while Adrian and Lord Fenneltree held their breath. But there was blessed silence. Presumably the supply-train of peaches had arrived.
    “Talking of the local hunt,” said her ladyship suddenly, “did you hear, Rupert, about that disgraceful occurrence? Some man, who could only have been deranged, attacked the hunt viciously with a large and uncontrollable elephant.”
    Adrian dropped his croquet mallet heavily on his foot.
    “Yes,” said Lord Fenneltree, trying to look severe. “Disgraceful!”
    “The worst part of it was,” hissed her ladyship, hitting her croquet ball with such vigour that it shot effortlessly through three hoops, “that the man was stark naked!”
    “Really?” said Lord Fenneltree, his attention caught. He glanced at Adrian, who had kept this part of the story from him.
    “Positively disgusting,” said her ladyship.
    “Stark naked, eh?” repeated Lord Fenneltree, obviously fascinated. “But why would he be stark naked with an elephant?”
    “The lower classes,” said Lady Fenneltree, “sometimes do the most peculiar things, particularly when they are under the influence of alcohol.”
    Throughout this conversation Jonquil bad been standing staring into space. Now she fixed Adrian with a melting stare.
    “I have never seen a naked man,” she said.
    “Jonquil!” said Lord Fenneltree, greatly shocked. “I should hope you have not. There will be plenty of time for that.”
    The Conversation succesfully diverted Lady Fenneltree’s attention from Rosy’s trumpeting, but it left Adrian feeling acutely embarrassed.
    He was now convinced that Lord Fenneltree’s idea was doomed to failure. Apart from anything else Lady Fenneltree was clearly not the sort of woman to greet with enthusiasm the revelation that for the last few days she had been entertaining in her midst the young man who, stark naked, had attacked the local hunt. He endeavoured once again to put his point of view to Lord Fenneltree, but his lordship was adamant.
    “Just let me go quietly away with Rosy,” Adrian pleaded. “I assure you that when your wife finds out she’s going to go off like a volcano.”
    “Nonsense!” said his lordship airily. “Why, when she sees our splendid entrance into the ballroom she’ll be so captivated she’ll be speechless.”
    Adrian could not conceive of any set of circumstances that would render Lady Fenneltree