Pure Folly

“Oh my goodness!” cried Lola “What on earth was Bingo mixed up in?”

The folly was a storehouse; it contained Bingo’s personal possessions; uniforms from his stint in the Chester Historicals, souvenirs from his campaigns, and shockingly Nazi flags and SS uniforms.

“I can only imagine that the family tendency towards things German influenced Bingo as well.” said Bunty apologetically.

“No Bunty, we would have known. Remember when I stayed at your place in the hols that time and we discovered that the village post mistress was running a Nazi cell and all those Japanese  soldiers tried to invade? Well it was Bingo who helped us!” said Lola.

“He could have been a double agent and he was already under the influence of the Creature.” said Bunty.

“But a cross dressing Nazi!” said Lola.

“I know it does sound silly but he never was quite what he seemed.” said Bunty.

As the dust settled, the two went further into the folly which wound underground like a burial chamber. The further they went down the older the artifacts inside. They came across Roman uniforms, Mummies from Egypt, tablets graven in strange letters.

“It said nothing about this in the will.” said Lola, “He had his own private museum.”

“Well, now I come to think of it, he was a missionary before he became Bishop-he loved that position!” said Bunty, “So he did a lot of travelling, which is probably why he had so many Elephant guns-he was in Africa at some point.”

“Hence the many umbrella stands.” said Lola, “But it does not make sense, why hide it all away? Unless it was an insurance policy-but against what?”

As they were now both covered in dust they repaired back to the house to bathe and get changed into more suitable clothes. Also Lola thought that they should utilise the pith helmets in Bingo’s collection and take some rope and torches in case there were any surprises for them in the folly.

Mrs Damson, who had quite recovered after what they chose to refer to as the “incident” and the key word, served them afternoon tea in the Baby Jane dining room.

Lola lit a cigarette and poured herself a cup of steaming black tea from the samovar she had installed from Shloss Schlepping which was bringing in a tidy sum from the Vampire tourism trade.

Bunty tucked in to egg mayonnaise sandwich followed by treacle tart and custard, cheese and crackers and a glass of elderberry wine.

Lola looked at her in undisguised horror.

“I need food to think!” said Bunty in defence.”Just  like you need cigarettes and gin!”

“That’s not it!” said Lola “I don’t care how much you eat! I think I know what the business with the folly means! It goes back to that time we stayed at your family’s house. That summer, just at the beginning of the war, there was a guest, a Professor of History-Mr Wood!”

Bunty swooned; “Ooh yes, he was lovely and he touched my hand and I didn’t wash it for ever so long!”

“Stop going giddy!” snapped Lola, remembering the humiliation, “What was he doing at the house, what was he researching and why?”


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