Geoff Le Pard, who entertains us so hugely with stories on his TanGental blog, would have us believe that he was once a lawyer. This cannot be true. No teenager could have had such a past profession. And Geoff is surely in his teens. Who else could so convincingly represent the mind of a nineteen-yer-old, as he does in ‘Dead Flies and Sherry Trifle’, which I finished reading yesterday?
We know that this writer is a master of dialogue, which he uses to great effect in this tale of intrigue, crooked dealings, bullying, and burgeoning sexual angst. It is funny too. I won’t reveal the story, but every time I read the name of the character ‘Nigel Sodding Parsons’ – almost always ‘Nigel Sodding…….’, I heard the voice of the hapless Harold Spittle, and could hardly stifle a giggle. Doesn’t that strike a chord with anyone who has experienced the pungent wit of adolescent relationships?
The setting is on the fringes of The New Forest, where Geoff grew up, and where I now live. The story, with its focus on interplay between the characters, and its rising tensions, could take place anywhere. The period, for those of us who lived through the UK’s scorching summer of 1976, is well described; the heat of the sun synchronising so well with that of Harry’s hormones.
Nice one, Geoff.
Today, the amaryllis that Frances gave us for Christmas produced its final bloom;
whilst our crocuses are reaching their peak.
Helen brought her grandson, Billy, for a visit this afternoon. I made a print for him to take home to Stephanie and John, his Mum and Dad.
Shelley joined us later on.
After our guests had retuned to their homes, Jackie drove me,
via the Lymington River mirror,
to catch the sunset reflected on Hatchet Pond,
and the flooded heath near Beaulieu.
This evening we dined on Thai prawn fishcakes followed by smoked haddock and Davidstowe cheddar cheese fishcakes, with ratatouille, carrots, green beans, and mashed potato. We both drank Louis de Camponac sauvignon blanc 2014.