While Lola honed her lady MP skills under the tutelage of Harold Bunty thought about the little hamlet of Minge that nestled in between Upper and Lower Gusette and the redoubtable Branwell who was doing out his conservatory. Bunty sighed, he knew she should wend her way back after her latest escapade with Lola and he never complained but she knew by the way he mixed his potting compost, muttering and throwing bags of leaf mould about that he was un settled.
When she mentioned going to the hustings with Lola and Harold he raised a bushy eyebrow and asked her if it involved bear-baiting and would she be safe with Lola and that there Harold who wasn’t gifted in the manly arts.
” Branwell, i’ll be fine just meeting a bunch of erstwhile politico types then home for tiffin!”
I really must spend more time at home, she thought. It’s about time I learnt to appreciate the normal every day things and he is so unlike the Major who deserved to accidentally fall in the thresher.
Lola was coming along nicely in her training, her suit, neat with jingly jewellery chaffed but she bore it knowing it had to be done and only when she had been elected could she unleash the real Lola on the House of Commons.
Harold occasionally lapsed into scenes from Pygmalion and tried to get Lola to repeat the ‘rain in Spain stays mainly on the plane’ but she hit him with a copy of Ulysses instead. “Bunty! I can’t abide this much longer how about a trip home to recharge our batteries?’
“It’s funny you should say that, I was just thinking I should go home and see what Branwell is up to. Those flower arranging women do tend to bother him a lot, I put it down to a strange musk that he exudes. It’s worse during a full moon and they seem to appear out of the bushes transfixed by some unseen force and if he so much as picks up a bunch of tulips they go wild.”
“That settles it, you go home and I’ll call into Much Schlepping we will meet up for lunch in a week or so. I should recharge my battery too. It has run down considerably, I charged it up only last night too.’
Bunty telephoned home; ‘Branwell, get the kettle on and break out the cake, your Bunty is heading Minge ward this evening…what how many relatives.. good grief no they are not staying with us, send them up to the big house.’
Lola and Bunty packed up their travelling wardrobes and organised a removal van to send them onto their respective homes. it turned out that Lola was having a complete rewire and she had employed a Mr Whatt to do it.
In the Bentley Lola told Bunty how she was looking forward to a fully working house without things exploding when she switched them on. “But Lola does he fully appreciate that there are more forces at play than simple electricity and exploding switches were actually quite normal for her.
“Well if he doesn’t know now he soon will” she smirked.