The Mata Hari Institute of Culinary Excellence

[Pleater]

I suppose it is extra security for the Minister's visit, but it is just unfortunate that there are any number of furtive fellows around the grounds and even on the roof and the weather has changed from very pleasant to frankly awful.

The ones up in the belvedere have some shelter, but I saw the ones on the Rotunda make a strategic withdrawal when it started get really bad with the hailstones plus thunder and lightening. It is bitterly cold too and the students have found that their academic gowns of warm gray wool are suddenly quite the thing. We are quite high up here, and open to all the weather, so there is a real need for warm clothes. I handed out the rabbit fur waistcoats, and saw that Madam Erzulie has once again brought out the cloak I made for her the first year she was here. I found a few things for our visitors too, though the younger couple don't seem inclined to get out of bed at all.

[davedove]

He seems very exercised about this Globo-Fashion business. I think he means to do something quite drastic - the sort of thing that involves lots of burly men smashing down doors and rushing around shouting a lot.

We all know that's the only real way to get a job done.

[Pleater]

Mister McGreagor seemed quite concerned about my not doing my usual security check last night. He worries too much - I mean all those men around the place - who's going to break in? I should be so lucky hey?

I'm just going to get some carrots for the rabbits, and maybe find some peas for the hens - they must get really bored with the food here - Is that fear fare fier? - I mean - we get to eat them and enjoy - and they get those pellets all ti thime.

[Pleater]

Hee hee they thought I was dnurk - just because I fell over a bit - they're ovely bepole but such fishputs.

They said I ought to have a lid down - don't know why - I feel great.

dassssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss sssssssss

[Pleater]

They are a pair of wicked old biddies!!

I mean - when opening up a freshly baked Christmas cake who is not going to take a good deep breath of that lovely aroma? And get a good big dose of the concentrated spice oils.

I am so embarrassed - I just hope none of the students saw me base over apex in the shrubbery.

Apparently they were just testing it - me being the director most likely to show the greatest alteration.

Fancy someone leaving behind their notebook in a pocket - a pocket of something just left in a wardrobe - well - it was not just lying around, the last person to use the bed in that room was probably one of Queen Victoria's naughty cousins, and the wardrobe could probably hide the doorways to several magical kingdoms.

At least it does not leave you with a hangover.

I was probably affected by it yesterday - thinking about it with that dreadful clarity which comes post antidote. Actually I don't think it was entirely counteracted, or I would be far angrier than this.

No wonder everyone gets misty eyed about world peace and goodwill to all men at this time of year.

[Pleater]

HA!!

They are really pleased that their 'little experiment' went so well. They were going to tell the Minister, but I advised against it. He will want it put with the other things in the vault - or somewhere else even further away. Or even worse he will want to try to use it to make everybody friends, or maybe just Britain's friend.

The notebook is now in the safe, for when it is needed.

Mister Brown is delighted that his bugs are letting him eavesdrop on some flaming rows between the 'subjects' in which people are being named, and really useful information screamed and bellowed loud and clear.

Daphne is going to contact her Harrod's man so that a small but very select hamper can be delivered - hopefully before the two kill eachother, but not until Mister Brown - whoever he is - has got all he needs.

[Pleater]

The minister took a phone call, and came into the North dining room looking serious. He had no hesitation in telling all those assembled of the content of that call, and that Hamish was being transported home from the USA in an airship - it surely could only be the Saltire.
'I hope that you don't mind, I suggested that he be brought here, to recuperate - I know you did such sterling work in the wars.'
'Will he be safe?' I enquired. 'Our security has been shaky recently.'
'Not at night.' said Mister McGreagor, wryly.
'Why wouldn't he be safe here?'
'He wasn't safe at home.' I pointed out.
'I'll have my man look at things - see how it can be improved.'
'Waterproof lookout posts will probably be his first thought.'
'Yes - it has been rather wild here recently.'
'A house in Storrington was hit by lightning,' said the Minster's wife, quite casually.
'That's where Hamish lives.' I gasped.
'Several places were hit, I believe - it was a bad storm.'
I rose from the table clumsily, and made a hurried exit. Could it be that leaving Ivana Rulital and her Globo-Fashion associates free to act had resulted in a revenge attack on the Kollection? Was there now a smouldering ruin where once had resided the Ace of kilt wearers and his many beautiful well chosen garments?

[Pleater]

I hurried to where Mister Brown was eavesdropping on the 'subjects' and asked if there had been any talk of attacking a house in Storrington. He shook his head.
'Just a coincidence, nothing more, the Kollection will be quite safe.'
'How do you know? I don't see a crystal ball around here.'
He went very still for a moment.
'I mean that there has been no talk of damaging it'
'But you said - Koh-llection - I said a house in Storrington - you said it will be safe. Are you going to pop into the future and inspect it?'
He opened his mouth, he closed it, took a deep breath and then paused, waiting to see what I would do or say next.
I just raised an eyebrow. All the time taken practicing that in front of a mirror paid off.
'You know?'
'I was suspicious right from the moment I saw you.'
It was not a lie.
'Then - I can do something to help.'
'What can you do?'
'It is to do with removing the pain you have - would you hold my hand?'
I hesitated only three seconds - though when I did hold out my hand he seized my wrist, always a difficult hold to break.
'Hold tight!' he said with a grin.
'I need more -'
The room dissolved, and I heard a motorcycle, I felt a motorcycle, I felt the movement - and yet I was still standing still. I heard Mister Brown.
'This is real, believe me. You must believe me, and do as I say - it is the village where you will have your accident, you are approaching it now - you see the High Street - do you?'
'Yes, I used to have flash backs.'
'This is a be back - is there a shop?'
'Yes, two shops and a post office.'
'Stop - you have to stop at the shops.'
'I can't. I didn't.'
'This time you will stop. Stop now!!'
The engine note dropped, I slowed and came to a halt in the parking bay in front of the shops. I turned off the ignition and eased my shoulders. As I did a car came around the corner on the wrong side, fishtailed along the road and lost traction in a screech of brakes. There was a howl of anguished metal and an impact.
Slowly the room returned. Mister Brown somehow brought me and a chair together.
'Good trick - eh?' he inquired.
'It missed me - I wasn't on the road.'
'Not any more.'
'But - ' I looked for the scars. There were none.
'It didn't happen. You still have to be here - but things have been different.'
I stood up, sat down and stood again. I swore, I wept, and I danced and laughed, I put my hands to my face, and felt something strange.
'What's that?'
'Third finger left hand - I'd say it was a wedding ring.'
'But - '
'It will take a minute, but you'll begin to fit in - '
Something pinged like a microwave oven.
'Real time elapsed - fifteen minutes.' said an electronic voice.
'Ah - it doesn't always mesh perfectly - but close enough.'
'Time travel?'
'More - reality adjustment, but time is involved.'
'And - that is so I keep your secret - you give me a better future in return for my silence.'
'Not just a better future - well, I suppose - counting from the time you didn't crash, yes.'
'Couldn't you just stop me realising?'
'Not and still be here. I had to be here - I can't tell you why. You had to be here - I had to hang on to you so your life, although different, would still be here and now.'
'And - everyone else?'
'They are just a little different, because you were, as of now, always different. '
'A lifetime of science fiction gives you a - ' I couldn't think of a word for it.
'We call it a prefact. Something which becomes a fact.'
'I think I need a drink.'
'Most people do. Alcohol is very useful at these times.'
'I was thinking of a cup of tea actually.'
'Jolly good - and you don't need to worry about the Kollection. It is and will be perfectly safe.'
I walked out into the corridor. The rain had passed and the sunlight streamed into the corridor through the tall windows and the deep mahogany colour of the woodwork was lifted by golden reflections off the varnished surface.
I seemed to float along without effort as I walked to the stable block, the familiar green door with the old black metal latch that snicked under my hand, the friendly kitchen with the stone flagged floor and the Aga in the fireplace, the cat lying feet up on the rag rug making a small greeting and waving a paw at me.

I made a cup of Lady Gray, and sat in my rocking chair. The cat lept into my lap and settled there, purring. I tapped my heels together, carefully so as not to disturb her.
'No place like home, eh Puzi?'
She gazed at me with that perfectly inscrutable feline face as though wondering why there should be any need to ask.

[Hamish]

Eeeeek! Just how close to life can this tale get? Two evenings ago, we endured one of the most noisy and persistent electrical storms here in Storrington that I have ever witnessed, anywhere. Yesterday, I learned that a house, not 200 yards from The Kilt Kollection, had been struck and damaged by lightening. Fortunately, my home suffered nothing more than a complete inability to access the Internet by any means yesterday morning, although my telephone and power was unaffected. An hour-long visit from the village computer whizz-kid, probable cost £35 - £40, put things right as far as I can tell.

Do you read palms, tealeaves and tarot cards, Pleater?

Take care,
Ham.

[Pleater]

I took stock of my altered state as soon as the shock wore off a little. To be suddenly married with children was rather weird, and yet - it was right - and somehow it always had been. It had not quite happened before but now it had flipped into always having happened.
We live in the old stable block, converted into housing and we are happy.

After a while I went back to find Mister Brown, who seemed to have been expecting me, and he talked - it seemed to be something of a relief for him - though not a lot of it was comprehensible. He did admit to having a lot of offspring, though not all the time and in the same places and their names were sometimes different.

'I suppose that once you start to mess around with time, causality and destiny and suchlike, you have to be glad if you end the day with your own **** on.'
'I seem to have managed that, as far as I can tell.'
'Then you are ahead of the game, so far.'
'I will have to leave soon - very soon.'
'Your work here is done?'
He gave me a spaniel look.
'I hope that Ian will one day join us, though just at the moment he seems to be too easily influenced, plus he's a total geek.'
'You underestimate the power of the recipes.'
'Perhaps. We will be monitoring Moore-Naste and Rulital, just so there are no surprises, and by Christmas at the latest all Globo-Fashion associates should have been picked up - I am sure that if we try hard enough they can be put where they can do no more manipulating.'

I returned to my duties, which I had been neglecting, though my schedule now seemed to finish promptly at four thirty each afternoon.