Post by pete on Sept 20, 2012 17:35:02 GMT -5
Phillip Fellowes[/b] was feeling tired. As relaxing and pleasant as the cruise he had treated his wife Elizabeth[/b] to as a twenty-fifth anniversary present had been, the drive home had been harrowing, punctuated in equal measure by hectic Central London traffic and by that sense of inevitablity that comes with the end of every holiday. As such, by the time he cleared the Chelsea Bridge, the old gentleman wanted nothing more than a warm cup of tea and a good night's sleep.
As he approached the family's flat, however, he began to sense omething was not right. Under normal circumstances, his faithful Winston[/b] would have been waiting outside the door, ready to carry their bags in; as he pulled the car to a halt outside number 25 Gloucester Road, however, the street was deserted, with no signs of Winston's familiar plaid petticoat. Phillip[/b] frowned in puzzlement, but only for a moment. Then, it hit him. "I did not call ahead to warn him I was arriving!"[/b] Of course! Silly old him. As good an employee as Winston was, he did not yet have long-distance mind-reading powers! Phillip[/b] chuckled to himelf, and set about correcting his mistake. When he called up to the flat, however, the phone was answered by his son, which once again caused the Royston-Fellowes[/b] patriarch to frown:
Phillip Fellowes: Rupert, where is Winston? Why has he not answered the phone?
Rupert[/b] sounded cool and collected, as if nothing was wrong, but his words betrayed that impression:
Rupert Royston-Fellowes: Oh, he is in his room sulking...!
Phillip[/b]'s brow furrowed again:
Phillip: Sulking? That is unlike him! Well, tell him to come down and collect Mother's bags, and mine.
It was then, however, that his heir dealt the fatal blow:
Rupert: I'm afraid that won't be possible, Father. He's been dismissed, effective immediately.
Phillip Fellowes[/b] could not suppress a gasp:
Phillip: DISMISSED?! On whose orders?!
His son, however, did not seem to partake in his anxiety, and his tone did not for a moment waver as he replied:
Rupert: Mine, of course. I am, after all, lord of the manor when you are away, aren't I?
Once again, Phillip[/b] could not contain himelf:
Phillip: You did WHAT?! What right...?!
Then, glancing at the apprehensive expression on his wife's features, he simply hung up the call and bolted upstairs at a run. Elizabeth[/b] quickly followed, still looking nervous, and completely neglecting the luggage still stored in the trunk of the car. As she climbed the steps toward their flat, taking care not to trip on her heels, she could hear her husband quite undignifiedly berating her son. She quickened her pace, and burst through the door just in time to avoid further moral damage being inflicted on the poor thing. Holding one finger out, she commanded:
Elizabeth Royston-Fellowes: PHILLIP! DON'T use that tone with the child!
Her spouse began to object:
Phillip: This "child" is twenty-four years old, Elizabeth! And he just dismissed my employee of over thirty years!
Lady Royston-Fellowes[/b], however, would not hear another word. Enveloping her darling boy in her arms, she drew his head to her bosom, all the while berating her husband:
Elizabeth: Shame on you, Phillip! Do you want the poor darling to be scarred for life?
Then, looking into the grateful eyes of her only child:
Elizabeth: Don't you worry, dear. Father shan't be cross at you anymore!
Seeing that he was defeated, Phillip Fellowes[/b] threw his arms in the air, and proceeded to head upstairs, silently hoping it was not too late to salvage his relationship with his servant. Fortunately, Winston[/b] was more than accommodating, gladly accepting his master's profuse apologies; within minutes, the situation had been explained and rectified. Heaving an audible sigh of relief, Phillip[/b] then beckoned his man to follow him downstairs, where he once again confronted his son:
Phillip: I am extremely disappointed in you, Rupert. I have half a mind to forbid you from going overseas.
Hearing this, his wife and son exploded at the exact same time:
Rupert: FORBID?! I am a grown...
Elizabeth: PHILLIP! You are most certainly not...
Increasingly irritated, Phillip[/b] lifted a hand, stopping both his family members in their tracks. Then, he pointed at Winston[/b], as he once again addressed Rupert[/b]:
Phillip: Very well. You may go to America. But I will be sending Winston with you, to make sure you walk the straight and narrow.
Incredulous, the youth splurted, not bothering to even mask his indignation:
Rupert: A baby-sitter?! FATHER! I am twenty-four years old, as you so rightfully pointed out not a moment ago! And besides, Nigel will be going with me!
Phillip[/b] heaved a sigh:
Phillip: That is exactly what I fear...
Elizabeth[/b], who was just as outraged as Rupert[/b], decided to intercede in her son's defence once again. As she was opening her mouth to talk, however, the young master's best friend, Nigel Kensington IIIl[/b], chose the ideal moment to make his entrance, a big smile lighting up his face as he announced:
Nigel Kensington III: Well, mate, I've spoken to Terry and the girls are on their way! What do you say we start the par...
The last syllable of his sentence died whimpering on Nigel[/b]'s lips, as he cames face to face with the heated family spat. Unlike Rupert[/b], he had the decency to colour as a livid Lord Fellowes[/b] icily informed him:
Phillip: 'The party' was cancelled, Nigel. Or should I say, dismissed. Effective immediately.
And with this, and a curt beckoning of his wife, the patriarch of the Royston-Fellowes[/b] household exited the living room, leaving two humiliated young gentlemen to sort out their own situation.
As he approached the family's flat, however, he began to sense omething was not right. Under normal circumstances, his faithful Winston[/b] would have been waiting outside the door, ready to carry their bags in; as he pulled the car to a halt outside number 25 Gloucester Road, however, the street was deserted, with no signs of Winston's familiar plaid petticoat. Phillip[/b] frowned in puzzlement, but only for a moment. Then, it hit him. "I did not call ahead to warn him I was arriving!"[/b] Of course! Silly old him. As good an employee as Winston was, he did not yet have long-distance mind-reading powers! Phillip[/b] chuckled to himelf, and set about correcting his mistake. When he called up to the flat, however, the phone was answered by his son, which once again caused the Royston-Fellowes[/b] patriarch to frown:
Phillip Fellowes: Rupert, where is Winston? Why has he not answered the phone?
Rupert[/b] sounded cool and collected, as if nothing was wrong, but his words betrayed that impression:
Rupert Royston-Fellowes: Oh, he is in his room sulking...!
Phillip[/b]'s brow furrowed again:
Phillip: Sulking? That is unlike him! Well, tell him to come down and collect Mother's bags, and mine.
It was then, however, that his heir dealt the fatal blow:
Rupert: I'm afraid that won't be possible, Father. He's been dismissed, effective immediately.
Phillip Fellowes[/b] could not suppress a gasp:
Phillip: DISMISSED?! On whose orders?!
His son, however, did not seem to partake in his anxiety, and his tone did not for a moment waver as he replied:
Rupert: Mine, of course. I am, after all, lord of the manor when you are away, aren't I?
Once again, Phillip[/b] could not contain himelf:
Phillip: You did WHAT?! What right...?!
Then, glancing at the apprehensive expression on his wife's features, he simply hung up the call and bolted upstairs at a run. Elizabeth[/b] quickly followed, still looking nervous, and completely neglecting the luggage still stored in the trunk of the car. As she climbed the steps toward their flat, taking care not to trip on her heels, she could hear her husband quite undignifiedly berating her son. She quickened her pace, and burst through the door just in time to avoid further moral damage being inflicted on the poor thing. Holding one finger out, she commanded:
Elizabeth Royston-Fellowes: PHILLIP! DON'T use that tone with the child!
Her spouse began to object:
Phillip: This "child" is twenty-four years old, Elizabeth! And he just dismissed my employee of over thirty years!
Lady Royston-Fellowes[/b], however, would not hear another word. Enveloping her darling boy in her arms, she drew his head to her bosom, all the while berating her husband:
Elizabeth: Shame on you, Phillip! Do you want the poor darling to be scarred for life?
Then, looking into the grateful eyes of her only child:
Elizabeth: Don't you worry, dear. Father shan't be cross at you anymore!
Seeing that he was defeated, Phillip Fellowes[/b] threw his arms in the air, and proceeded to head upstairs, silently hoping it was not too late to salvage his relationship with his servant. Fortunately, Winston[/b] was more than accommodating, gladly accepting his master's profuse apologies; within minutes, the situation had been explained and rectified. Heaving an audible sigh of relief, Phillip[/b] then beckoned his man to follow him downstairs, where he once again confronted his son:
Phillip: I am extremely disappointed in you, Rupert. I have half a mind to forbid you from going overseas.
Hearing this, his wife and son exploded at the exact same time:
Rupert: FORBID?! I am a grown...
Elizabeth: PHILLIP! You are most certainly not...
Increasingly irritated, Phillip[/b] lifted a hand, stopping both his family members in their tracks. Then, he pointed at Winston[/b], as he once again addressed Rupert[/b]:
Phillip: Very well. You may go to America. But I will be sending Winston with you, to make sure you walk the straight and narrow.
Incredulous, the youth splurted, not bothering to even mask his indignation:
Rupert: A baby-sitter?! FATHER! I am twenty-four years old, as you so rightfully pointed out not a moment ago! And besides, Nigel will be going with me!
Phillip[/b] heaved a sigh:
Phillip: That is exactly what I fear...
Elizabeth[/b], who was just as outraged as Rupert[/b], decided to intercede in her son's defence once again. As she was opening her mouth to talk, however, the young master's best friend, Nigel Kensington IIIl[/b], chose the ideal moment to make his entrance, a big smile lighting up his face as he announced:
Nigel Kensington III: Well, mate, I've spoken to Terry and the girls are on their way! What do you say we start the par...
The last syllable of his sentence died whimpering on Nigel[/b]'s lips, as he cames face to face with the heated family spat. Unlike Rupert[/b], he had the decency to colour as a livid Lord Fellowes[/b] icily informed him:
Phillip: 'The party' was cancelled, Nigel. Or should I say, dismissed. Effective immediately.
And with this, and a curt beckoning of his wife, the patriarch of the Royston-Fellowes[/b] household exited the living room, leaving two humiliated young gentlemen to sort out their own situation.