The Blue Summer House


The photograph showed her mother standing on the slipway outside of the boathouse wearing only a pair of rowing shorts

In the background holding a pair of large wooden oars was her father who was smiling broadly at the camera

Peter was next to her mother

Toasting her with a glass of red wine

Oh why did they not use white wine

Gate thought as she walked swiftly towards the ornamental bridge

She had decided to keep the photograph under lock and key

In her lacquered Japanese box

(this poem was lost in 2013 and recovered in 2023)

It is no longer a lost poem

Gate left the house silently and waked across the dew damp lawn towards the blue summerhouse. Its door had not locked for years and she let herself into the main room

It smelt vaguely of her mother’s perfume

Two glasses of whiskey has been left carelessly on the low table and it was then that Gate noticed that Peter had also left his jacket which was hanging from a hook

Both of the jacket pockets were stuffed fill of paper and Gate curious as to their content pulled the sheets free

On examination she could see that they were written in Italian and German

She did not speak or read Italian but spoke and read German well having spent six months in the country the previous year

She began to read what she soon found out to be an account of the murder of two gypsies in a town not far from the city of Frankfurt

Although shocked and sickened at the description of the atrocity she read the account fully

She found a number of letters from a man known only as Franz in which he described the measure being taken to intimidate the Jews in the main city

She imagined that the Italian documents followed the same pattern

Gate felt for Peter’s wallet and found it in his inside pocket

It contained fifteen pounds and list of meetings that were scheduled to be held at various locations in the country in the months ahead

Peter had ticked six all to be held in the Home Counties

It was as she was putting the wallet and its contents back that a small photograph dropped out

Tuppence and Gate and Little Kate lay in the blue summerhouse watching the waves of wheat in the distant fields break against the idle trees

Their languid occupation of the summerhouse was interrupted by a shout from the main house

Dinner was ready

I wonder how many of you care to dream about my sweet sweet Celandine sang Little Kate

Oh shut up Kate that is such a sad song you know that poor Celandine drowned in this very lake  

 

And for an instant everything was orange

The trees opposite her bedroom were orange

A passing bird was orange as were the hills in the distance

Everything was orange

It was a magical moment on an otherwise dull day

Wrote Tuppence in her diary that evening

She hid it under her pillow so that her sisters would not discover it

Do you know that the word kiosk comes from the Turkish and means a summer house?

How did you know that

I found it in my book of Byron’s poems

A moth that has been resting on one of the beams looked down at the sisters

It had learnt its first word of Turkish

Gate was wearing her mother’s rowing shorts and the singlet she had worn when she won an Olympic Silver medal

Her mother never spoke of her triumph as if she was ashamed of it

Both Tuppance and Gate rowed

But they knew that they would never achieve the standard required to represent their country

She could see Peter walking along the shoes of the lake towards her

She knew that as she was dressed in her mothers rowing kit that he would question her intention

Why are you wearing your mother’s rowing kit?

Often do

Peter looked at the lake at the thinning Celandine mists

Did you remove some papers from my jacket that I left in the summer house?

Yes

Did you read them?

Only the German ones I do not read Italian

Are you aware of their sensibility

Yes

Where are they now

In the lake

You threw them in the lake

Yes

Did you find the photograph also

I did

Your mother and I have been lovers for a number of years now

What about father

He is aware of the situation and approves

I do not believe you

He has his lovers also

Gate did not reply at once she knew that her parents tended to be away for periods of time but they never seemed to be away together

She had caught her father talking to Kitty in the bath which all seemed quite innocent at the time but now seemed a little more suspicious

Was Kitty my father’s lover

Amongst others

Does my mother have any more lovers apart from you I mean

Not that I am aware of  

What did you do my wallet and the money

I buried you wallet over there by the summer house

And the money

I gave  the money to the Polar Bears who were passing at the time

 

At that exact moment many miles away off of the northern shores of Canada a Polar Bear and his family were sailing towards to the arctic wastes on the iceberg they had just purchased

 

Are you angry with me

No not at all

I thought you would be

Were the papers important

You have a sharp brain Agatha you know they were

I am sorry but I was so angry after seeing mummy’s photograph

Do you know what is happening in the world today

Sort of

It is only because of brave people such as your mother and father that the world will be saved from the Bolsheviks and the filthy Jews

Is that why father visits Germany so often

Yes there are wonderful things happening in Germany and Italy right now

But what about the gypsies that were murdered

They are sub-human mongrel a sub species created by centuries of inbreeding just like the niggers 

But they were murdered

To have a new world order they there will need to be deaths

Do you ever watch the creatures around this lake not all of them survive only the strong will survive and that is why year after year this lake and the grounds around Chatterick will remain the same

If this was altered then the balance would be upset there would be chaos

So you are saying it is the order of things

In as way yes nature has had the answer for centuries but intelligent man no

His drive has always been halted by the sub species

The Bolsheviks the niggers the filthy Jews and many others

You would like it if our monarchy was overthrown

 That is what happened in Russia they shot the family in cold blood

If we do not act then people like you and your sisters will be next you will be raped and murdered

Chatterick will cease to exist and important families such as yours will cease 

Gate began to feel frightened and wished that she was swimming with Celandine in the lake

Why is happening now

Why was Herr Hitler not born in Russia at the same time as Lenin

They are open questions

Are you going to tell my father

No

This is why I destroyed your important papers and gave your money to the Polar Bears

You know the answer Agatha

Because of my mother

Yes you are so like your mother

 

Are you going to tell my father

Yes

You know that I have inform your father as the papers you destroyed were very important

The money can be replaced but the papers cannot 

Then go ahead

They will be very disappointed in you

They already are

 

The sisters lazed on the cushions in the summer house gramophone was playing in the background

Little Kate suddenly walked over to the pile of records in their brown paper covers and began sorting them out looking at each composer in turn

Byrd, Beethoven, Monteverdi and there is one called Victoria just like our cook

His name was Tomas Luis De Victoria and he was a Spanish composer

How did you know that

I just knew it

You know everything Gate

Tuppence often says that is true    

The legend of Celandine had existed since the 1870s when a visitor to the great house drowned in a tragic boating accident on the lake

She had asked her cousin to take her out even though her parents forbade such an adventure

The rowboat which had not been fit for its use overturned and both cousins were cast into the deep cold waters

Tragically possibly due to weight of her clothing

Celandine disappeared under the surface and drowned

The lake was drained but no trace of her body was initially found

She was later buried by the gamekeeper who found her some three weeks later

For reasons best known to himself he buried dear Celandine near the large oak tree at the southern end of the lake

He took this secret to the grave

In 1964 when the drainage system was being replaced a skeleton was found near the lake but it was not Celandine but a Royalist who was murdered at the house during the Civil War

The following year the sisters gave the house to the National Trust only retaining the lodge and a few outbuildings and it was during the building of a new visitors centre in 2010 that Celandine’s  remains were uncovered

She was given a Christian burial at the chapel on the estate and buried there

Each of the sisters attended her rest

It was noticed from that day forward that the Celandine mists never appeared low over the lake even on the most acceptable of days

The Turkish speaking moths are a great attraction at Chatterick House

Nobody know why they speak the language

This a mystery even to the sisters

Gate had never been religious especially after her mother died in an air raid in 1941

It was only when her father died in 1955 that she learned the truth about her mother’s death which had been reported in The Times as being the result of a direct hit on a hotel in London

His papers revealed that she had died with Peter whose death had not been reported

The lovers had been together in the hotel when the German bomb landed

She saw the irony

Her mother had been buried on the estate but her father also revealed the whereabouts of Peter’s last resting place

It was theJewish Cemetery in Mile End

He was now with the dirty Jews that he so hated

She thought God must have a sense of humour and therefore must exist

Her sisters were not aware of why God had entered Gate’s life and believed that as their mother  had died in an early air raid during the war that she had turned towards God for comfort

On the 1st of July 2013 the United Kingdom experienced very high temperatures as hot air had been drawn up from Africa

Gate was standing on the slipway in front of the boathouse looking at the photograph that she had stolen nearly eighty years previously

A young man approached her

Do you know the way to the Jazz Stage

I am afraid I do not

I was due to meet my friends there but have become hopelessly lost

It is a very large estate

Do you know if well

I used to live here in the great house

Really

Yes my father owned the house and the surrounding area

I spent a majority of my childhood here

It must have been wonderful 

For the most part yes but all good things end

Gate handed the young man the photograph

The woman was my mother she won an Olympic gold before the last war

I can see the resemblance 

You are too kind young man I am ninety three whereas my mother was in her mid thirties when that was taken

What was her name

Eleanor

She looked quite bronzed

The summers then always seemed to be hot just like today

Were you named after your mother

No my name is Agatha although everyone calls me Gate

My name is Michael Fallon

It has been very nice to meet you Mr Fallon

Do enjoy the Picnic in the Park

My house deserves you young people

The young man smiled and handed the photograph back to Gate

As he took the path leading away from the boathouse he was greeted by a rather tall girl in a lime dress

They hugged and eventually vanished into the trees

The lake was calm as it has been for many years on such a hot days

Gate did not expect to see a mist although they had occurred before

She looked towards the site of the blue summer house which had been demolished by the National Trust as it had become unsafe

She thought she heard music playing from its site

But it was the music from the festival in the grounds nearer to the house

Gate walked past the summerhouse towards the gatekeepers lodge where she met both her sisters  who had been waiting in the shade as the heat had been so fierce

The house has changed but not by much

I think the trust is doing a wonderful job

It is a pity that the blue summer house had to go

We had such happy times there

Everything dies

Even we will at some stage

Not too soon I hope

As days like this are so precious    

(this poem was lost in 2013 and recovered in 2023)

It is no longer a poem but a fiction

Time changes everything

 

 

 

 

 


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