A Boxing Day Story (Part 1) – Boxing Day 2018 #14 (13:00)
The Afternoon of the 26th was remarkable for one particular thing. Which was, that when one o’clock’s solitary chime had just about faded into the past, there was a curt knocking upon the front door of the mansion.. Not that we lived in the mansion, we were just passing by and by some strange trick of the acoustics, we heard the knocking from the mansion’s orchard where we were ‘borrowing’ apples.
As it sounded like a knock of desperation, we curtailed our apple-based activities and went to have a look-see.
The ‘knocking’ was coming from the ‘outside’ of the monumental front door – and it was a surprise to us that nobody inside had answered it’s call. Perhaps there ‘was’ nobody inside.
If that was the case, why did the knocker keep knocking?
We approached as closely as we could to the mansion’s entrance and looked across at a man who in-between knocking furiously at the door and cursing at the lack of response, was balancing an old and shoddy top-hat upon the crown of his head. Quite a sight, he was.
We watched from the rear of the hawthorn hedge and considered the occurrence.
The ‘we’ that I allude to are: myself, Robin Banks (real name Robert ‘Robbie’ Bankscombe, and my partner in crime was Tom (real name Thomasina) Boycott – but, never, repeat never, call her ‘Tomboy’ even though she was all of one and more.