toilet lock though we continued to have some difficulty persuading the girls this was better than the manor house we had left.
E.
By reference to a small booklet Sean and James attempted to construct the tent while we ladies assumed our natural role of preparing diner. I must admit I was not well versed in the art of cookery but Jill was very helpful in showing me how to open a tin of beans and to prick and cook eight sausages on two little gas stoves. I began to have a much greater respect for the skills of my cook at Hamgreen and also the merits of cooking in a sheltered place such as indoors where a breeze does not direct the flame to anywhere but the item needing heating. After about half an hour when we noticed that the tents construction was progressing nearly as fast as our cooking our menfolk suggested it might be helpful to drink some bottled beer. I had noticed while buying provisions that James and Sean had procured a large white box in the grocery shop which they took it on themselves to manhandle to the car while we carried the other foods. This large box now appeared from which Sean retrieved four bottles. James handed me one. I now found myself, Elizabeth Bicester, daughter to the squire of Hamgreen sitting in a field with an orange sheet for shelter, holding a frying pan in one hand spitting fat in all directions and drinking beer directly out of a bottle with the other. However, just as I began to wonder how I got here and whether that manor house we had left was all a dream from another world I felt a drop of water splash on my face, then another.
J.
The sausages were well cooked and not too blackened on one side. Elizabeth apologised for her performance and hoped it would not affect any wedding prospects I had in mind though it seemed to be said in such a way that if I ever asked her to prepare such a culinary delight again the realisation of that prospect would become vanishingly small.
We managed to scrape most of the beans out of the pot. I was a little envious of the people in the bigger tent next to us who had brought what I can only describe as a full range cooker from which drifting towards us the aroma of a full curry which became more delicious or enticing as dusk approached. This was not helped by the rain which the morning's weather forecaster helped by his super computer had failed to predict.
After we had eat, drank some more beer and our two torches were failing we decided to retire early. We decided unanimously not to change into pyjamas, mainly because we had forgot them, and go directly to bed where we were able to enjoy the sound of the various radios, and televisions emanating from the surrounding tents.
E.
Despite being assured that the quilted bag I had squeezed into was the bedding of choice of adventurers ascending the Matterhorn, I felt its makers had not taken into account the inclement weather of an English summer's evening for the cold damp air outside aided by the rain was slowly percolating through the material into my body. I mentioned this to James who demonstrated his consideration for me by suggesting we join our bags and climb in together to share our warmth not to mention my body. The torch had now failed and it took some contortions and fine work to climb onto one divan and join the bags. Eventually after many manoeuvres which seemed to require more intimate entwinings than I thought necessary we were eventually 'zipped up' inside save for our two heads which competed for a coat and my jacket for a pillow. This improved the situation sufficiently for me to be able to decline his invitation to remove all our clothing for extra warmth.
About midnight James decided to pay a visit to the toilets no doubt due to the number of bottles of beer he had drunk. Unfortunately we found the fastening of the bag had become caught in the cloth and the key to the fastener on the outside possibly because as I found out later in the dark we had managed to join the sacks inside out. To open the fastenings seemed a simple task except now we discovered our arms were trapped inside the bag. Try as we might we could not escape. After not a little struggling James, and not me I wish to add for the record, managed to upturn the fragile divan and deposited us still inside the sack on to the ground. I thus found myself in the pitch black laying on top of James in a position I would not normally expect to find myself in the middle of field or anywhere else come to think of it and accompanied by the sound from another tent of what seemed to be a radio playing a rendering of ‘The Ride of the Valkyries' but was actually a recording of a combo I believe called 'Lead Metal Zeppelin'.
J.
For some reason I felt a cold shiver as though someone had poured water on my back and my head felt distinctly wet. With Elizabeth on top of me I couldn't move so I turned my head slowly fearing I had badly cut myself only to push my face into ice cold water. I realised that Sean's choice of the nice sheltered hollow where we had pitched the tent was also the water shed for the surrounding hills and our sleeping bag was lying in a small channel of running water. I decided to call for help. There was no answer. I whispered as loud as a I could. Somewhere a Jack Russell decided to join in.
Eventually Jill appeared. It was still pitch black.
"What's the matter Jim. Good God why am I standing in water. Where are you?"
"Here." I whispered helpfully in the darkness.
"Where? Oh! What are you doing down there? Oh sorry Elizabeth I didn't recognise your bum. Where's Jim?"
"Underneath me. We can't move!"
"Please don't tell me you're stuck in that position. There's no way I'm going to be the one who’s going to call the ambulance and explain what's happened.”
"We can't get out of the sack" I said, "Our arms are stuck inside"
"And you got poor Elizabeth to fall for the oldest campsite trick in the world. Did Jim tell you that you'd be much warmer if you climbed into his sleeping?"
"And how many times have you fallen for that Jill", I said.
"Shut up!"
"Every time I ask", said Sean from the other side of the partition who obviously had been listening.
"Elizabeth a word of advice. Never get inside a sleeping bag with a man. Now let's get you out. There, got it! Well at least you had the sense to keep your clothes on.”
E.
Having extracted ourselves from the bags we decided to abandoned this place and gathering up our wet clothes returned to the manor house where we could commune with a nature with which we were more familiar.
J.
The following day we thought Elizabeth's suggestion of a quiet gentle stroll along the cliffs admiring the views followed by a nice long lunch at our expense in Polzeath seemed an excellent idea. In fact Sean and I thought that any other idea the girls came up with would be brilliant as well and agreed we would follow their instructions to the letter without complaint.
E.
After a pleasant day in which normality was restored and the recurring vision of my father discovering me in that 'position' of the previous night abated, Sean and James decided to make amends and treat us to dinner at the local Inn which was only about four hundred yards from our house though I suspected their real intention was to make sure the local beer had been kept well and in cask condition. However, we did not complain as cooked food and washing up by some else by now seemed quite attractive.
I had succumbed to a pair of jeans which I had to admit had great practicability at times. I had bought them at a sale at an emporium in Chichester. James who thought he would come along to 'help' admitted later that until we entered the premises he had presumed he could not get enough of scantily dressed ladies. However the madness that confronted us on entering the hall changed his opinion. Apparently although such places are adequately provided with private changing rooms the lure of a bargain and the fear of it being snatched away seemed to have turned the fairer sex into vicious vixens who in order to try on their items of choice were prepared to strip rather than risk another taking it from them. A pair of suitable jeans were eventually found at the expense of much bruising and I am rather afraid to say cross words on my part directed at a pair of ladies of a certain age with their skirts half tucked in the back of their underwear who thought said jeans would fit them.
But I digress again. Although the Inn was said to be not far it did involve a walk down a dark lane with the noise of a stream close by and hidden in the trees. As we approached Sean and I espied what we thought was a young girl in a grey-white hooded coat walking towards. As we got nearer she turned and literally disappeared into the wall of the vicarage.
"Did you see that?" Said Sean.
"What?" Said James who had busy making sword play with the beam of his torch with Sean.
"The girl! She was just there then she turned and vanished.”
“OK Sean. Save it for the walk back after a few beers"
"No, I saw her too." I said, "She just disappeared into the wall."
We quickly walked over to the wall and shone our torches along it until we found an old boarded up door. James tried it but it looked like by the amount of ivy it hasn't been opened for years.
We carried on to the Inn.
J.
We entered the main bar where I was confronted with about a dozen firkins of Cornwall's finest beer which by their beckoning appearance had been prepared especially for Sean and I. We decided we would start at opposite ends and meet in the middle. After sampling the first pint of the delicious brews Elizabeth reminded me of the other purpose of coming here, that is the promise of a
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