by idtm

Created on: July 11, 2008

There are few experiences with more latent embarrassment than meeting the parents of the new girl friend for the first time.
This had been our first weekend away together. With another couple we had been visiting a private swannery in the South West of England; a serene and tranquil quarter of outstanding beauty. The swans glided across the mirrored surface of the secluded lake, deep in its woodland setting. We were bathed in unseasonably warm sunshine of an extended Indian summer. Inconsequentially I recall that the cusp of October and November allowed us to enjoy the extra hour afforded by the clocks being set back that weekend.

By common consent at the time, and in the thirty intervening years, this was marked as one of those truly exceptional weekends that are visited on very few occasions in a lifetime.
Wishing to prolong the idyll the new girl friend invited us all back to her parents' house for dinner, which was en route for our home back in Bristol.
For reasons that escape me at this distance in time I was not accompanied in the same car by the new girl friend. As a consequence my temporary travel companion and I arrived at the house ahead of the others.
The beautiful late 18th century manor house is set low in its extensive parkland. It is approached by a long drive that hugs the contours descending to the house. The parkland is notable for its mention in the Doomsday Book, although the fourteen head of cattle reported then has been extended to a significant dairy herd and a wild life park in the intervening 900 years.
I imagine that being Sunday evening the family retainer, who appeared on subsequent visits, had the evening off. In any event the Mother answered the door to two total strangers.
I was unaware of how much, if anything, had been reported to the parents of our relationship. At that age I had not developed an arsenal of social ordnance to smooth such openings. It was clear that "How do you do? I am your daughter's new boy friend and she has invited us to dinner", while accurate as far as it went, could appear a little farouche. In the event, it was unimaginatively all I managed. She received us with the absolute equanimity of someone who has spent a life time of unannounced strangers arriving to stay for dinner. It is certainly possible her daughter's absent minded, not to say scatter brained, approach to life had inured her to such eccentric arrivals.
We were shown into a magnificent drawing room, populated with an array of gently decaying

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