Obituary
I read with amusement my obituary and the accompanying article that appeared in 'The Times' the following day.
"Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward and her chauffeur narrowly escaped certain death yesterday when her Rolls Royce was involved in an accident. Unfortunately a passenger in the car was not so lucky. 3 1 2 was killed instantly. 3 2 was one of the passengers on the ill fated 'Golden Empress' which sank in the Caribbean one week ago. Lady Penelope was not available for comment."
Lady Penelope was on the phone. "Oh, my dear." She gushed. "It was simply terrible. I am quite overcome." She paused as the person on the other end offered conciliatory noises. "My Rolls Royce is such a mess. It will be quite unusable for at least a month. I shall have to hire a car, which is most tiresome. One simply doesn't have access to all of the little comforts that one is used to." More conciliatory noises. "Poor 1. Rescued off the 'Golden Empress' by those gallant International Rescue boys, only to be killed in my humble car... it is most distressing. I really can't talk any more... Thank you for your support... Good bye dear." With evident relief she hung up the phone.
Parker was pouring me another drink. "HI notice there's no sympathy for the 'umble butler." He muttered in my ear. I gave him a sympathetic smile.
The phone rang again. "Answer that please Parker." Lady Penelope ordered gently. "If it's someone wishing to offer solace tell them I am resting after my ordeal and say you'll take a message. If it's the 'gentlemen' of the press, tell them no comment."
Parker withdrew to answer the phone in the hall. The phone stopped pealing.
"Do you think this will work?" I asked Lady Penelope waving 'The Times'.
"It will merely corroborate what our 'friend' hopefully already believes."
"That was some accident. So that was 'Brains' Catherine Wheel Manoeuvre'?"
"Yes. I must call and thank him. The dear boy has recently added a few extras into the Rolls Royce. A ram to make us roll..."
"Appropriate in a 'Rolls Royce'."
Her laugh was polite. "Exactly. There's also several gas jets to provide the flames and cushions to protect us when we're rolling. When we stop the cushions explode, giving the impression the fuel tank has exploded and finally the car is covered in soot and grime. Parker is not pleased. It will take him simply ages to clean it again."
"But how did you manage to do it?" I said waving the paper again. "I mean - 'The Times'!"
"It has been reported in a number of the less reputable dailies as well." She informed me. "I have a few friends in Fleet Street."
"So I'm safe."
"I believe so, yes."
Finally I felt a sense of relief.
I read with amusement my obituary and the accompanying article that appeared in 'The Times' the following day.
"Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward and her chauffeur narrowly escaped certain death yesterday when her Rolls Royce was involved in an accident. Unfortunately a passenger in the car was not so lucky. 3 1 2 was killed instantly. 3 2 was one of the passengers on the ill fated 'Golden Empress' which sank in the Caribbean one week ago. Lady Penelope was not available for comment."
Lady Penelope was on the phone. "Oh, my dear." She gushed. "It was simply terrible. I am quite overcome." She paused as the person on the other end offered conciliatory noises. "My Rolls Royce is such a mess. It will be quite unusable for at least a month. I shall have to hire a car, which is most tiresome. One simply doesn't have access to all of the little comforts that one is used to." More conciliatory noises. "Poor 1. Rescued off the 'Golden Empress' by those gallant International Rescue boys, only to be killed in my humble car... it is most distressing. I really can't talk any more... Thank you for your support... Good bye dear." With evident relief she hung up the phone.
Parker was pouring me another drink. "HI notice there's no sympathy for the 'umble butler." He muttered in my ear. I gave him a sympathetic smile.
The phone rang again. "Answer that please Parker." Lady Penelope ordered gently. "If it's someone wishing to offer solace tell them I am resting after my ordeal and say you'll take a message. If it's the 'gentlemen' of the press, tell them no comment."
Parker withdrew to answer the phone in the hall. The phone stopped pealing.
"Do you think this will work?" I asked Lady Penelope waving 'The Times'.
"It will merely corroborate what our 'friend' hopefully already believes."
"That was some accident. So that was 'Brains' Catherine Wheel Manoeuvre'?"
"Yes. I must call and thank him. The dear boy has recently added a few extras into the Rolls Royce. A ram to make us roll..."
"Appropriate in a 'Rolls Royce'."
Her laugh was polite. "Exactly. There's also several gas jets to provide the flames and cushions to protect us when we're rolling. When we stop the cushions explode, giving the impression the fuel tank has exploded and finally the car is covered in soot and grime. Parker is not pleased. It will take him simply ages to clean it again."
"But how did you manage to do it?" I said waving the paper again. "I mean - 'The Times'!"
"It has been reported in a number of the less reputable dailies as well." She informed me. "I have a few friends in Fleet Street."
"So I'm safe."
"I believe so, yes."
Finally I felt a sense of relief.