The Haunted Castle….Part Five….THE END!
My dearest, troubled Spot, Aunt Alice here.
Did you fall from the battlements and hit your head?
Although I have been away for quite sometime I have never abandoned you, Spot, nor have my staff. Although their number has recently been depleted by two suicides. I’m not completely sure if you and those two tragic events are connected. Anyway, they have read your messages avidly, and as a consequence I’m aware of your predicament.
My nervous condition is returning at a fast pace, I feel the need of sherry; urgently! I want to shout, I want to scream. If I had more hair than I do, then no doubt I would be pulling it out by the fistful now through frustration. It is not good for women of a certain age to feel frustrated Spot, believe me.
I knew that you were silly, but always hoped you would overcome that adolescent stupidity. Yes, Spot, I called you STUPID.
To regain my own sanity, and wellbeing, I must assist my dear Spot….. Heaven help us if I don’t!
Spot, the problems are threefold as I see it, and all to do with females. Why did you not join a monastery as you once threatened to do?
Never mind, let’s set about solving your dilemmas.
1) BRENDA. She is obviously unhappy away from penguins, Greenland and her homeland of Wales. You have the solution to this, and 2) MYRTLE. Send them back to watch Welsh grannies lifting their skirts in that pub The Castle Harlech!
How you say? Sit back and read nineteenth century wisdom, Spot.
As I understand things, that Dickie Branson, the pickle jar genie, has yet to grant your third wish. Summon him by rubbing that thing I trust you still keep in your pocket.
Do it surreptitiously, Spot, not in the open please!
When he appears, instruct him to resurrect Brenda in skeletal condition of course. Leave the skeleton somewhere fairly hidden but easily found by Little Willie, an interesting character I must admit. You could not have thought the name up. The truth is often more fanciful than fiction I find.
He will then inform Myrtle with whom he seems to have a relationship and she, in turn, will inform the Insurance Company by presenting Brenda’s remains. We both must assume here that their premises are situated in the Principality of Wales, a reasonable assumption I think.
By this action Brenda should be happy, if happiness exists in the spirit world, and both she and her daughter will leave. You will be on your own, Spot. That brings us nicely to your third problem.
3) Tracey. She is toying with you, Spot, feeling a mite coltish in accepting your proposal. After all, can anyone prefer Outer Mongolia to your arms in the ghost free Castle Barnard?
I suggest the answer is no, Spot!
In my practised opinion, a touch of skittish behaviour is normal for a girl of her age being wooed by someone younger. But you are WEALTHY. Don’t forget your fortune. Most wavering hearts can be won by money, my dear boy!
Send her a message saying that as your wedding gift, you have deposited £10 million in a bank account under her name! That should catch, and focus her attention. I must add here, that under no circumstances should you think that my changed advice is in any way selfish. I REALLY do enjoy your missives. The fact that when married, you will no longer have a need for such communications, has not swayed my stance at all. I simply want your often self-doubt to disappear. Assert your authority Spot, be it on the washing line, in the kitchen or in the bedroom. Be assertive, Spot. I’m sure that twenty-first century Great Britain needs assertiveness as much as it does in my year; 1872.
I have a few final words of warning my dear Spot, before I depart and somehow salvage my composure.
The full £10,000,000 can ONLY be released after a period of married bliss has past. I would suggest that you trickle it down, as it were. A small amount first, say £50,000 after one year. The second year, increase it if you want. I am not suggesting that Tracey will not be sincere in her acceptance, but I do remember her and a ‘miscalculation of funds’ when you received that first reward for reporting Brenda and the Welsh grannies!
Be prudent Spot, but keep staying away from prunes. We don’t want a reoccurrence of that camping incident on your wedding night!
Aunt Alice, you are so wise.
How I missed you and your wisdom. As you so rightly say, Spot is in a bit of a pickle, if you pardon the pun.
I will summon Dickie and follow your advice. Then set about Tracey. Perhaps those are the wrong words, but soon I will have my hands on her…..Yum Yummy!
Sometime later, after jumping up and down, turning around a few times in joy and rubbing a certain something in his pocket…..It was an Opal, if you’re wondering! Some people have dirty minds.
My dearest beloved Tracey.
All has been resolved. The ghostly spirit of Brenda has gone, as has her daughter Myrtle. Little Willie did not travel to Wales as I first thought he would. He said that he had plenty to do here, and preferred to stay. I can explain all of that later, if you want. Castle Barnard is a picture of tranquillity with sweet-smelling air in abundance. I enclose a legal document detailing the financial arrangements I have made for your fiscal security after our marriage.
The bans have been read in Saint Michael’s And All Angels, our soon to be wedding venue, and everything has been organised. All you have to do is pick a dress. I doubt if there are many in Outer Mongolia but do not worry. I have sent Siren FM your resignation letter, along with the air tickets for your return journey to Heathrow. They assure me that they will gladly forward them. The Prime Minister and the Queen are on my invited guest list, so you can apologies to them personally for taking on other duties, than spying for GB.
Oh, before I forget. Please send a list of guests you wish to invite, money is no problem!
Loads of LOVE, Spot.
You are all invited to the marriage ceremony of Tracey and Spot.
The date to be announced whenever Tracey arrives at Heathrow and Little Willie meets her there as my trusted representative. I hope she’s pleased.