Lulu, Dora and Nora watched with glee as a hapless duffer with a camera, attempting to catch a blackleg gull - why that one out of such a foison, they could not comprehend, but were entertained y the spectacle - overbalance and tumble into the muddy water; this always beat the Telly on a Tuesday afternoon, and they cheered for The Birds!
After one hapless duffer took 17 strokes on the first green and vented his fury on his Caddy, who was taken to Hospital with a fractured skull, the Caddies Union called a strike, and not one blackleg crossed the Picket Line, so the Club declared that Professional Caddies were superfluous in a time of foison and invited the disabled whose benefits were being cut to come and be paid while they got healthy exercise, for a Pound a Round!
"Fuck me!" said Lulu, as she received yet another mimetic tweet from this Teri she'd never met, "this longhaired, estival nonsense is really pissing me off, any more and I'll give her a proper tardigrade punch up the bracket!" and Nora and Dora nearly wet themselves to hear Lulu so worked up!
Tavish Dalwhinnie, Society Diarist of the Scotsman, threw The Herald in his bin, but could not erase the words of his nemesis, Jamie Carmichael, from his brain: "in the tardigrade estival Silly Season, a mimeographed mimesis informs us that the longhaired ladies known to our readers as the Famous Five will soon be reuntited in Gullane when Maude Lyttleton, presently Honeymooning there with her spouse and longtime companion Daphnie Dumbiedykes receives a visit from the others - watch this space for further news of the reunion," and he gnashed his teeth in anger; for this was a Capital Story, so how did Glasgow scoop him to it - Grrrrrrrowl!
In the tardigrade estival pre-Festival dog-days of Summer, Lulu and the twins - her devoted entourage - wore their longhair and shortshorts with Pride, eschewing the mimesis of traditional Sapphic fashionistas!
Theresa held Nikki, her longhaired lover from Galashiels close and tried to ignore the tardigrade internet service which restricted communication betwixt herself and Phemie to texts or tweets during the estival hiatus, for the frustration of mimetically confusing interpolations drove her bananas, and only Nikki's gentle touch could return her to any kind of normality - Deo Gratia for the saving power of unrestrained sex!
Theresa's request to the Famous Four for regular updates of Daphne and Maude's estival Honeymoon had been mimetically transmitted to Phemie, who now said "Drat," for the tardigrade internet service caused her to pull her longhaired pussy onto her lap and run her fingers through his fur - a therapeutic habit which helped stop her smashing plates when exasperated and which Drat patiently tolerated.
And while Lulu, the 'tough' girl, may have thought Tribology was a study of gang culture, the skill with which she inscribed her love on the identical skins of Dora and Nora in majascule italics, drying their tears and replacing their fears with cachinnate peals of laughter, demonstrated that she was an inveterate seductress with an innate and unerring sense of perfect touch.
Although Ello's knowledge of tribology was miniscule, she was no inveterate ignoramus in the use of majuscule capitals when texting or tweeting, for immoderate cachinating in the use of LOL would be no laughing matter!
An inveterate student of Tribology - as was Ullo Caddy, the forensic scientist - could not avoid noticing the majuscule capitals employed by the transcriber of the Telegram and she could not prevent herself from cachinnating almost hysterically as she pointed at the document and gasped, "it's in Code, and I can read it!"
The journey back to Gullane was epic – the Eightsome Reel were divided into four pairs, one Lady and one Caddy to each of the four Tandems brought by Izzy's friend, a rather tough young lady driving a pink truck, who didn't say an awful lot, but smacked Maude on the bum, which gave her a strange shiver up her back-bone and pinched Ullo's, which made her giggle; she had also brought two pretty young chumss, identical twins, who clearly regarded her with awe, called her Boss and packed up all the gear from the picnic – they were to drive the group's two vehicles back to The Jolly Boatman and await the Party; now, the Caddies being altogether younger and fitter than the Ladies, were put in command of steering and timing at the front, the Ladies only had to pedal as required and would have a delightful view of their Caddy; so as with the Golf, Maude had Ello, Daphne got Ullo, Phemie had Cristal and Izzy was happy to be behind Conchita, thoughts of tribology engaging her brain as she saw strong muscles move sturdy bones under smoothe coffee skin; it took no time at all and sooner than some would have liked they all found themselves back in The Jolly Boatman, hot, sweaty, sticky and quite elated; by this time the bar was rather full of Golfing aficionados, here for the Scottish Open, so the party handed back their picnic hampers and collected a few bottles and, taking Phemie's young friend and her chums along with them, repaired like a gaggle of frisky teenagers to Phemie's delightful fisherman's cottage with its fine views of the sea; although Daphne found the sea rather boring or as she put it “see one sea all” and so her back was to the window, so she did not see the red bicycle, ridden by a trim girl dressed in the official uniform of the Scottish Royal Mail hop of her bicycle and lean it against Phemie's wall and approach the front door, which she rapped smartly; indeed the first Daphne knew was when Phemie and the Telegram Girl came into the rather packed living room with a telegram which the girl handed to Daphne, gave a tiny wave to Phemie's tough girl, and waited while Daphne opened it, lest there should be a reply; now Daphne hadn't received a telegram since 1977 when the service was ended, for ir had only resumed this week, and she was all fingers and thumbs as she fumbled with the item, so she foisted it on Maude, saw that it was addressed to both of them care of Phemie, deftly opened it and handed it back to Daphne who, rather self consciously read the message aloud: 'DA + GoLcitPMpatMat + FoLPS>PF + Rem2Dk + wwwww? + F4&2U + TS + End' and to the mystification of all but one of the assembly she said, rather proudly, “they managed it in 7 words, that's jolly good,” and she dictated a reply which the Telegram Girl dutifully noted down on her pad: 'MRAU + HH + Nttl + FrF@OLOL + StGoLArch@Ch + ADM + End” and Daphne handed her the fee for six words plus two £2 coin for herself – the girls eyes twinkled and she saluted Daphne rather smartly, said “see you, Lulu,” to the tough girl's embarrassment, hurried out to her bicycle and raced back to the Sorting Office – it was Phemie, who as Hostess of this gathering of the Eightsome Reel and her assistants in her Cottage who broke the silence when she said, “well bugger me bow over stern, what the Fuck was all THAT flumadiddle about?”
As she nestled into Daphne's shoulder and wrapped her arms around the Historian, Ullo felt a deep sense of belonging and contentment and almost instinctively her study of tribology led her to a consideration of the movement of Daphne's hand and both its cause and effect, and when Daphne asked about her life Down Under, Ullo told her about her sister, Ello and herself: “we're twins, obviously? And Cristal and Conchita are sisters too and they're our cousins? and our dad and mom were both cops but they said it was too dangerous and guided us out of the idea of joining the police? but we still wanted to track down the bad guys so Ello studied and became a Forensic Psychologist and I'm a Forensic Scientist and we set up our own lab a couple of years ago but recently some big companies from the US have moved in and they've got the contracts from the State Governments so we're feeling kinda jaundiced? you know, about working there? we're really thinking of coming over here? we've no problem with the usual badinage between competing professionals, for sure? but we're not up for dogfights and can't compete with those big outfits with smart-ass lawyers and big bucks behind them? so I dunno really? and Daphne felt a vague idea she'd had at the back of her mind begin to crystallize and she gave Ullo a reassuring squeeze and said, “I think you've come to the right place, Sweetie, I think you've come home,” and Ullo's heart did a little capriole and she just said “phew?”
In the limpid afternoon, with sunlight dappled through overhanging leaves, as she lay safe and soft in Maude's embrace, Ello could almost fancy she heard a weary penitent shuffle to the garderobe, remove his hair shirt and slip on silken hose and cambric dress, which womanly attire earned him his soubriquet of Wullie the Wench!
Now Izzy's idea was deceptively simple in the extreme, but it was this very simplicity which gave it its particular attraction: she proposed that the Eightsome Reel up to Dirleton Castle, four in Daphne's car and the rest in her van – if they didn't mind the risk of being arrested and the vehicle impounded as she hadn't yet passed her driving test and therefore hadn't yet taxed the van – it is insured, though, she said, for she was very particular about not ignoring the sensible laws and regulations, and anyway it's only a hop, skip and jump, but it's got lovely views and it's perfect for a picnic and was where she always took visiting ladies – which she implied was not infrequent – and afterwards, they could leave the vehicles there and cycle back to The Jolly Boatman, for she just happened to have four Tandems – well, she could lay her hands on them, implying that a nod's as good as a wink – and a couple of her chums would bring the motors down later; she laughed and the Caddies who possibly didn't fully understand what she was saying - for her accent was quite broad - cheered, jumped up and down and clapped their delicate hands in pleasure, at the sight of which Maude felt her own little twinge of pleasure, and smiled despite herself; and it was Perfection – the Castle almost looked like a bespoke ruin, so picturesque and incomplete as it was, with access to the dungeons and a tiny hoosegow for recalcitrant prisoners, and the heights of its battlements sufficient for them to imagine repelling a siege and having a view “to die for” said Phemie – although Maude had never been a great one for heights – she'd only been up the Scott Monument once, forty years ago, and the memory rather upset her proprioception and she couldn't remember where her hands and feet were and for an instant she seemed to have 360 degree vision, as if her head was going right round, like an Owl's, which made her feel sick; but it passed and the picnic supplied by The Jolly Boatman had plenty of food and drink for an army and after eating and drinking their fill, the eight lay about and talked of cabbages and kings; Izzy, who said that on her mother's side she was descended from one of the Ruthvens who had been Lords of Dirleton in the 16th Century and that she was also descended from Griselda of Longformacus – the very same Our Lady as Father Finnegan's Chapel, though she thought it was more like a small Cathedral, and certainly a place they must visit before daphne and Maude returned to The City - “and my Grannie St Bathans was named Griselda after her: my mother used to sing a song about Grannie, for she was a Polar Explorer (I once met her, Maude whispered to Daphne, who whispered back that she knew, because she had been there too) it went:
My Maw's a Millionaire,
Would you believe it,
Blue eyes and Curly hair,
Would you believe it,
Sitting among the Esquimaux,
Playing a game of Dominoes,
My Maw's a Millionaire,
or would've been if she'd accepted Howard Hughes' offer of a Million pounds to fly one of his sea-planes for the Polari Circumnavigation but she said 'no thanks, mate, I'll do it in a Sunderland,' she flew those Flying Boats in the War and always said they were the best of the lot, and she would only use British equipment,” and Daphne asked her if she flew herself, “oh, yes, I've had a licence since I was 21 – don't have one for the roads, but I'm legit in the air, I've got a little Spitfire over at the East Fortune airfield – I'd take you girls for a spin but I'm a little short of cash and haven't paid my last fuel bill yet – the antiques trade's a bit slack at the moment, everybody's looking for Van Gogh's and Wedgwood Green's, for a couple of bob at a Car Boot Sale, not prepared to pay a fair price to a dealer, that's why I've been concentrating on selling through ebay, and just opening the shop at weekends and holidays, and why I'm looking for a good assistant (she surreptitiously glanced towards Conchita) but next time, and I know there will be a next time, I promise it'll be up, Up and AWAY!”
"Well, Kenny," breathed Jubbly into his ear, "when ah wiz a wean in Partick, ma Maw's bespoke hoosegow played Merry Hell wi ma proprioception, an me a guid Catholic lassie!"
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