The Big Over Easy

“UGLY” SISTERS TO SUE FOR DEFAMATION

The stepsisters of Princess Ella are understood to be demanding undisclosed sums from numerous publications over defamation of character, libel and slander. A spokesman for the sisters explained, “My clients are fed up being constantly portrayed as physically repellant obnoxious harpies, and have decided to take action against the 984 publishers that have repeated the allegations without bothering to check their veracity.” A spokesman for the Binkum Press, publishers of The Children’s Treasury of Fairy Tales, told us, “Obviously we will be vigorously defending the action, but we have taken the precaution of pulping half a million copies of the offending story. Following the landmark payout to Snow White’s stepmother, we’d be fools not to take this seriously, although we don’t believe there is a case to answer.”

—Extract from The Gadfly, April 17, 1992

The Grundy residence was an exquisitely restored Jacobean mansion set above the river Thames, with scrupulously maintained oak parkland that stretched to the water’s edge. South facing and away from any built-up areas, it ranked alongside Castle Spongg and Basildon House as one of the finest examples of period architecture in the Reading area. As Jack and Mary motored down the long graveled drive, they could see that Maison Grundy had been erected on the site of something much older. The church behind the house was considerably older than the mansion itself, and the barns, outbuildings and stables older still. When they arrived in the courtyard at the rear, stable lads were busily grooming some fine-looking Thoroughbreds whose dark coats shone, even in the gray overcast.

They parked the car and got out to see a woman on a large bay horse come thundering across the parkland towards them, throwing up divots of sod behind her. She slowed her mount to cross the roadway, and as she drew closer, they could see she was dressed in a long skirt that seemed faintly Victorian with a high-collared blouse buttoned up to her throat; on top of this she wore a blue velvet riding jacket.

“Hullo!” she said, dismounting expertly from the sidesaddle and handing the reins to a stable boy. “Are you here about the deathwatch beetle?”

She was barely in her mid-twenties and was extraordinarily pretty in an English rose sort of way, with large eyes, a perky smile and a porcelain complexion. She was slightly flushed and out of breath from her ride.

“No, Mrs. Grundy,” said Jack, holding up his ID card. “We’re police. I’m Inspector Jack Spratt, and this is Sergeant Mary Mary. We’d like to talk to you about Humpty Dumpty.”

She looked shocked for a moment but quickly recovered. She smiled delightfully at them both and said, “Well, you better come inside, then,” adding to a stable boy, “Callum, have Stranger made ready for this afternoon and check Duke, would you? I think he might have thrown a shoe.”

As they walked towards the house, she placed her whip under her arm and removed her gloves. “We have a deathwatch beetle problem in the church,” she explained. “I was hoping you were here to have a look at it. Terrible things, you know, can eat a building away from the inside like cancer, so Solly tells me.”

They walked in through the front door to where four dogs of varying sizes and a footman were waiting to greet them. She patted the golden retriever and handed her whip and gloves to the footman, who gave a curt bow. She told him to bring tea into the drawing room and then led them down a hall bedecked with portraits of the Grundy family through the ages, all of whom—male or female—had the same pugnacious, bullnecked Grundy look. The dogs all followed, wagging their tails happily.

“The family resemblance is uncanny,” remarked Mary.

“Not really,” replied Mrs. Grundy with surprising directness.

“Solomon sat for them all. The Grundy family tree in reality leads nowhere—Solly was found wrapped in a copy of the Reading Mercury outside Battle Hospital sixty-nine years ago. It makes his achievements all that more remarkable.”