An evening out at Shrublands. This has been a well-known health clinic for the last 40 years, beloved by those who visited for their annual pick-me-up, but which has now been closed and sold, and of which the contents, family silver, furniture and china, is being sold by Sotheby’s next week.
We had an invitation for the private view. As did most of the poshenista of Suffolk. Lots of ‘Darlings!!’ of greeting to be heard. “Do you know D.? He and L. have only just got engaged.” “Oh! That is the best thing, the very best!!” We arrived early and hung around for a while before the doors opened. A delightful lady engaged me in conversation. She was most upset at Shrublands closing so abruptly, depriving her of her annual visits after 20 years. We met lots of people we knew. Lots of mwahs – though I am oikish enough to actually kiss those I like. I’m not much of an air-kisser.
We were parted for some time. Then met by chance, going in opposite directions. “See you at the top of the stairs in a few minutes.” Yeah, right. We did meet again, eventually. I overheard one lady “Oh, I’ve lost my husband! …………. Oh, there he is!” “You’re luckier than I” I remarked, “I haven’t seen mine for half an hour.” “Could be, you’re luckier than me.” The Sotheby’s girl and I laughed. Later, I passed her again – “Found him!” I said.
There was one woman wearing a covetable suit. Brown, discreetly checked, the jacket’s checks going straight and the skirt’s diagonal. Just right. But so was she, half my age and slenderer – I was that size ten years ago. Won’t be again. Don’t aim to be, everything would droop horribly.
Wine flowed. I drove there. We accepted second glasses of wine. “Who will drive home?” I asked. “I will, you finish mine.” And so I did. And a very nice canapĂ©, fillet steak on a bit of toast.
I’m too busy to go back next week for the sale. But the Sage isn’t, and we’ve registered. There is one lot we are really interested in, and a couple more that I would frivolously like, but we won’t really go for. Keep your fingers crossed. We have decided on a price to go up to.
Not an air kisser?
Daaahling you wouldn’t last 2 minutes in France. It’s an art form here.
mmmmnn…more an arse kisser here.
do you start from left to right then to back to left?
Oh Geena, I’m so unsophisticated. The baby is better at air kissing than I am. With me, it’s more likely to be a good smacker on each cheek.
Hee hee(that was for the conversation one overheard between you and Geena)!
And Zoe.. do tell us what you buy..
Wine.. Ah! Am on forced abstinence!
Banana – hm. In more than one sense? Or is that just lowering the tone a shade too far?
I had to think about that one and practise on my husband. Right cheek first.
How do we know – I’ve had some reasonably good wine in India, but also some really peculiar stuff, so I usually stick to beer and whisky.
My sympathies on the abstinence – have I told you about the alcohol-less wedding I went to in Madras three years ago? Days of wonderful wedding celebration, but not a drop in sight. By the final day, which was an extra reception given by the bride’s brother, over from Australia, I got so desperate that I completely disgraced myself by joining the men in the bar.
They were very amused to see me sink a glass of beer in one go and take a great drag from a cigarette. And I don’t even smoke!
The item we’re interested in buying may go for too much, the estimate given by the auctioneer is far too low and it will go for treble that. And there’s 20% commission, plus tax – we’ll see. I’ll enthuse if we get it!