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here—so pay attention!
    Even at Marys steady pace it wasnt a long drive—but long enough for me to learn a little more about the Parkers. Old Yorkshire family—made their money in building—Tom trained as an architect—offices in Scarborough but siezed the opportunity offered by mod tech to work from home—4 kids—Minnie 9—Paul 8—Lucy 6—Lewis 5—apples of his eye—Marys too—but Tom comes first. I get the impression she doesnt like letting him take off alone—not cos she dont trust him sexually—but cos she worries what scrapes his enthusiasm might get him into! Like driving into the tank trap—I suppose!
    He talked—with great affection—of his financier brother Sidney—younger—& invalid sister Diana—older. Without saying much—Mary gave the impression she has a few reservations about Sid in the City—& a whole bucketful about sister Di!
    More to Mary than meets the eye. When Tom started rattling on about Kyoto House—inviting her agreement that it was in every way superior to the old Parker family home theyd swapped it for—she replied dutifully—I suppose youre right dear—but the old place did have such a pleasant garden—& so sheltered—
    â€”yes—thats it entirely—he declared—as if shed confirmed everything hed said—It was indeed sheltered—from the benefits of the sea breeze—& sheltered from the veiw too—no outlook save for fields & trees! Now—from Kyoto up on North Cliff—on a clear day you can see halfway acrossto Holland—& when Im working out ideas for the development scheme I dont need to sit at my drawing board—I just go into my garden & look down & there it all is at my feet—as it were!—
    â€”did you design Kyoto yourself?—I asked.
    â€”naturally!—marvelous feeling—not having anyone looking over your shoulder at the drawing board—do you follow? The opportunity afforded me by the consortium—of getting involved in planning & building on a large scale—was not the least of its attractions. Its going to be something new—I promise you—nothing piecemeal or accidental—every step carefully thought out—every detail pertinent & planned!—& a carbon footprint no bigger than a cats!—
    The quality of light ahead was now giving promise of the sea. Against the intense blue sky I could see the rather sinister silhouette of a large house—more than a house—a mansion—with enough towers & turrets to give the impression it had had youthful ambitions to grow into a castle!
    â€”Denham Park—said Tom.
    â€”where Lady Denham lives?—I guessed.
    â€”oh no. She lives at Sandytown Hall—he replied—which her first husband—Hollis—acquired—along with the Lordship of the Sandytown Hundreds—an ancient traditional rank—acquired by purchase—unlike her subsequent title—
    It sounded to me like shed got that by purchase too—& I think I detected a little twitch from Mary. Us psychologists are v sensitive to twitches!
    â€”the Denham property—Tom went on—& the baronetcy of course—went to her nephew-in-law—Edward—
    Here our conversation was interrupted—wed been driving with the sunroof open—to get the full benefit of the invigorating Sandytown air I presume—& suddenly—in an instant—the car filled with the most disgusting smell imaginable.
    Pig shit!—on a huge scale—it made our slurry lagoon seem like a rose bowl!
    Mary hit the button to close the sunroof—apologizing profusely.
    â€”the Hollis pig farm—she said—except calling it a farm is an insult to real farmers!—
    â€”now now my dear—said Tom mildly—its a natural smell—& nothing natural is harmful to man—
    â€”nothing natural about the way they keep those poor