Mr West Takes the Air

Frost had turned the leaves to glass and the lawn into a glittering expanse, white and crisp as an unread letter. Lord Tor walked, trying to ignore the stooped figure of his companion, hanging beside him like a piece of tattered cloth caught in his peripheral vision.

“How often I imagined strolling here,” Mr West rasped, “but always was denied. And now I am free to come and go as I please.”

“Yet no more welcome,” muttered Tor, moving swiftly away. West scurried after him, as Lady Tor appeared from the house and advanced towards them.

“Mr West – how unpleasant,” she stated. West smiled, bowing his head. “I hear from the Captain that you plan to exorcise this house?”

“Sprinkling holy water and mumbling the gospels? Superstitious tommyrot,” interjected Tor.

“I sense you are not people of strong religious conviction…” began West.

“Of course not – we’re C of E!” snapped Lady Tor.

“…and yet, you do believe in a spirit – this Percy?”

“That is different,” replied Tor, rounding on Mr West. “He’s family.

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