The Potting Shed

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

From the tall windows of her manor of Pillaughpiffleston, Lady Theresa Eaglestone was eying Phlynn the gamekeeper. He was coming back from the wooden part of her ancestral domain, where he had apparently been hunting foxes.
He was quite a handsome man, and his pack of disparate dogs was making lots of noise greeting him.
Theresa had always loved men with dogs. There was such a virile aspect exhaling the scene that she almost covered the window’s glass with a bit of blur.

The “ahem” of her snooty butler looking down his nose almost made her jump.

— “Your cup of tea, Madam.”
— “Thank you Finnley. You may go now.”

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

Lady Eagleston enjoyed staying in the warm potting shed, taking her time to enjoy, appreciate and admire the ecstatic beauty of the blooming orchids. She let her thoughts wander for a few moments in the pleasant place smelling of cedar.

Her old friend, Hector Coon had sent her a rather unusual present this morning: a few bits coming from a watermelon’s rind strangely carved with unusual symbols. What an eccentric charming old fool this Hector…
They both loved to do each other unexpected presents of which they would then try to find some underlying meaning. Not that there was any such meaning to be identified most of the time, but it was some time pleasantly spent.

So, she had thought the only place safe to bring the bits to was here — mostly to protect them from the furious cleaning practices of Finnley, who wouldn’t have the pleasure to throw them to the garbage this time. She had seen his disgusted look when she had opened the package with excitement.
Well, now what would he imagine she was doing in there?…

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

Lady Theresa Eaglestone, know as T’Eggy to her friends, waited in the potting shed at Pilston Manor (which was how the locals pronounced Pillaughpiffleston).

“There” said Becky with a grim smile “Much easier. As if I would remember how to spell that!” Not for the first time, Becky wondered if it might be a good deal easier to write her own Reality Play and forget all this collaborative nonsense. It was hard enough to remember her own story lines, never mind trying to keep track of all the other bizarre additions as well. “Now who the devil is Hector Coon?” Thankfully this Pillaughpiffleston thread was a new one, and Becky had a fairly free rein with it: nothing was yet decided regarding the location and time frame, so if she was quick about it, and made her entry before the others, the ball was in her court.

T’Eggy (Becky continued to write) shivered in the cool breeze that was blowing into the draughty old potting shed. She turned the the carved watermelon rind over and over in her hands, puzzling over what possible significance it may have. Surely it was a clue, or at the very least a symbol of some aspect of inner reality, but what? And what did Hector know that she didn’t know?

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

It is so tiring having to carry on this charade of being a butler, thought Finnley, as he peeled off his constricting disguise.

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

“Rotffflll”, grunted Hector Coon when he entered the hall of Pilston Manor where he had been invited by T’Eggy.

“What on earth are you about Finnley with that tutu of yours?!Fancy yourself a ballerina now?”

And where is T’Egg… I mean, Lady Eagleston?

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

T’Eggy jumped and quickly shoved the mysterious watermelon rind into her pocket as Finnley’s silouette appeared in the doorway.

“Lady T’Egg, Sir Coon sends his apologies and wishes to inform you that he has been called unexpectedly away and will no longer be able to join you for dinner this evening” the butler ceremoniously announced. T’Eggy noticed Finnley’s eyes on her bulging pocket, somewhat inappropriately, she thought. Her previous butler, Harring, had been much more discrete. There was something fishy about Finnley. T’Eggy couldn’t put her finger on it — Finnley appeared to be the perfect butler ~ his credentials were impeccable — but there was more to him than met the eye, of that she was sure.

“Would M’Lady like dinner brought out to the… ahem… Potting Shed?” asked Finnley, raising an eyebrow disdainfully.

“Don’t be silly” snapped T’Eggy. “When I’m done here with Phlynn the gamekeeper, I’ll come in for dinner.”

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

That sinister Finnley had plans to do away with Sir Hector, in the library, before dinner.

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

As soon as Finnley was out of sight of the potting shed, he ran like the wind towards the servants quarters below stairs. There wasn’t a moment to lose. Hector Coon would be arriving soon at Pilston and Plan 57 was about to be launched. Quickly Finnley unbuttoned his butlers jacket, dropped his sober grey trousers and inched himself into the pink tutu. Now all he had to do was lure the unsuspecting Sir Coon into the library….

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

The myopic Hector took another look at Finnley.

You didn’t wear pinholes glasses before, did you? And… eeek, is that fishnet stockings?

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

Finnley was momentarily non-plussed. Sir Hector had seen through his disguise almost immediately. Finnley had assumed that Sir Coon’s notorious reputation as a rampant ladies man, unable to resist anything in a skirt and stockings, would ensure that he would follow Finessa (aka Finnley) into the library “toot sweet”.

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

“By Jolly, you are a Red spy!” Hector was not duped for a moment that the creature in front of him was here to steal him the precious carving for the benefits of the Russians, like that Harring just before he had been exposed.

“But you can kill me now, you won’t get a thing!”

He was just hoping he did the right thing in sending the precious information to the feckless Lady T.

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

Phlynn was late. “You just can’t get the staff these days” grumbled T’Eggy. Where was the dratted man? All she wanted was a quick leg-over before dinner, and now that Hector wasn’t coming after all, she could have spent more time with Phlynn.

Unbeknownst to T’Eggy, Phylnn was in the stables, struggling into his pistachio green jewel studded sari. He was late for the rendezvous in the library, and in his haste to don the disguise of a sultry voluptuous sultana, the endless yards of fabric wrapped around his long legs in a hopeless tangle.

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

“Damn it, where’s Phlynn!” Finnley muttered under his breath. “Plan 57 isn’t bloody working! We won’t be able to lure Sir Coon into the library now with the promise of a little clandestine titilation, we will have to use force. But I can’t do it alone! Where is PHLYNN?!”

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

Hector suddenly felt outside of his body and became only a spectator of his own life.
It was like he was a master in karate (whatever that was) and he took care of Finnley in the library in no time.

He realized Finnley had a real breast, and quite generous… A surge of adrenaline overflowed his mind and all he remembered after that was the feeling of the carpet on his naked knees and the generous forms of Finnleys in his hands.

Scene in: Circle of Eights, Stories

“Get you hands off my bosoms, you cheeky blighter!” exclaimed Felicity, the downstairs maid.

The drugs that she had added to Sir Coon’s tea were evidently starting to take effect. He was hallucinating.