“Oh, hello there, Poshie”, the strange couple said.
“Well, m’boy,” Lord Posh addressed Melvin, “Can you explain yourself?”
“Ummm…”, said the young gun, backing into the wall.
“Perhaps you’d like to start by explaining to the Amanda Ann’s the exact name of the Borstal you attended?!”
“Umm…. Eton.”, the youth muttered
“Oh, spiffing!”, I chimed in. “My old place! Is Basher Harris the PE master still there?”
But I was silenced with a Look.
“So,” Lavinia (having heard every word) said,
“You’re a Toff.”
Her voice dripped disgust and betrayal.
“Naw, Lav babe, listen!”
said the youth, trying to dig his way out of a never-ending hole.
“Look who he’s skyping.” Lord Posh said quietly, resting his case.
“No, babe!” Melvin shouted desperately.
“I’m just mates wiv his brother! We help his grandad stop saying rude things to Chinese people and that.”
By now, Melvin was in a very deep hole indeed.
“Bugger off, Melvin!
I hate you sooo much!!!”
The young, unlucky-in-love pampered princess screamed.
After a brief embarassed silence, Melvin’s posh dad cleared his throat:
“Well, we best be off, old boy. Unearned income doesn’t collect itself and all that.”
Marjorie, suddenly very sorry to see Melvin go, sat forlornly in the music cum dining room, when Lady Bragg approached her:
“Goodbye Marjorie. Your house is charming. Will you come for tea on Thursday? Our address is number 7, Mayfair.”
Marjorie glowed, and agreed instantly.
She was finally back on home ground.
As Melvin walked out of our lives, Poshie turned to his former fiancee;
“I’m sorry I had to do that to you, my sweet. It was for the best.”
“That’s alright, Poshie,” Lavinia said,
“It wouldn’t have worked out anyway. Nor would it with you..”
“You see, Poshie, I’ve become a Lesbian!”
Surely not our Lavinia?
Has she really gone the other way?
Will Lord Posh never get his hands on her again?
Don’t miss the final installment! Same time, same channel!
Do not Touch that dial!!!!
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