Much Ado About Sandcastles I
May. 31st, 2011 05:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_shrubberyI blame Ulli for this!
Fitzwilliam Darcy was not particularly amused. When he had proposed a cosy sea-holiday, he had somehow envisioned himself and his wife, frolicking in the waves or enjoying the sunset during a walk on the beach. He had, for the duration of these phantasies, completely forgotten that his wife had borne him three children, who, upon hearing of their father‘s plans, turned into a band of screeching banshees and were not to be silenced until their mama let them run around in their bathing suits for the rest of the afternoon. He had also forgotten that months ago, his beloved wife had made plans with her sister to spend a vacation together, and that said sister was also endowed with a husband and two children. That the husband was one of his best friends only slightly alleviated his pains, because, apparently, Charles Bingley always spent his holidays with his sister, and could not be dissuaded from inviting her. Fitzwilliam, in turn, thought that if everybody else brought their family, it was only fair that he should invite his cousin, who, having recently returned from a longer stint abroad, had difficulties settling in, and his sister, who in turn invited her boyfriend, from whom she could not bear to be parted.
Thus, Fitzwilliam Darcy was facing the difficulty of arranging sleeping arrangements for eight adults and five children in the giant bungalow he had rented, and of course, the labrador, the stroller, the pram, a crib and a foldable travel-bed. Directly after their arrival, Charles had made himself scarce under the pretense of renting bicycles for the three eldest children (thankfully, he had taken them with him), and Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam‘s adorable wife, had taken their youngest son (a strapping lad if ever there was one) to one of the many bedrooms in order to feed him, whilst Jane had taken her son inside to change his nappies. Georgiana and her boyfriend had not yet arrived, and so had Caroline and Colin, leaving Fitzwilliam with only Henry the labrador for help.
Fitzwilliam heaved another suitcase out of the back of his mini-van (how he missed his jag!) and set it down on the dried grass in front of the bungalow. Henry, tied to a fence-post, wagged his tail in a vaguely helpful manner.
‘You’re right,’ Fitzwilliam conceded. ‘It doesn’t make much sense to unload things if I don’t know where to put them.’
Henry looked at him expectantly.
‘Quite right,’ Fitzwilliam agreed.
He went inside, trying to remember in which bedroom his wife was.
‘Elizabeth!’ he yelled.
‘Back here,’ came a cry from the back of the house, ‘and try to be quiet!’
He made his way to a small but comfortable bedroom facing east, with a double bed and an armchair, in which is wife was currently seated.
‘He just fell asleep,’ she whispered and nodded at the bundle in her arms.
Fitzwilliam contemplated the bundle and felt, yet again, overwhelmed by the fact that he and Elizabeth had, for the third time now, produced such a perfect creature.
‘I love you, do you know that,’ he said softly and kissed her hair.
‘Do you, now?’ she said. ‘How terribly interesting!’
‘This our bedroom?’ he asked. ‘Looks very nice.’
‘It’s the best of the lot,’ Elizabeth said, ‘and there’s room for the crib in the corner. So naturally I secured it for us.’
‘Atta girl,’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘Where are the others sleeping?’
‘I think Jane has taken a liking to the bedroom just off the kitchen,’ Elizabeth said, ‘and she says it’s large enough to put Andy’s travel-bed in the corner. And I suppose Georgiana and Mark will want to have the one in the front, because it’s furthest away from all the other rooms.’
‘The one with the twin beds?’ Fitzwilliam asked. ‘Excellent.’
Elizabeth slapped him playfully on the arm.
‘You promised,’ she said.
‘Yes, yes, alright,’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘What about the terrors?’
‘If you mean our wonderful children,’ Elizabeth said, ‘the room next to this has a bunk bed, which I’m sure they’d love, but -’
‘Bunk bed?’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘With a ladder?’
‘It has a railing and everything,’ Elizabeth said. ‘But, that would leave the three-bed room for Colin, Caroline and Jenna, and I’m not sure whether that would work.’
‘Caroline can sleep on the sofa,’ Fitzwilliam suggested.
Elizabeth pondered this.
‘It would not be fair, though,’ she said. ‘And besides, that would still leave us with Colin sharing a room with a five-year-old girl who hardly knows him.’
The door opened.
‘Lizzy,’ Jane said, ‘have you seen Charles – oh, Fitz. Here you are.’
‘Charles went to rent bikes for the kids,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Fitz and I were just discussing sleeping arrangements.’
‘Oh, I thought that Jenna and Anne could share the room with the bunk bed,’ Jane said. ‘Wouldn’t they love that? Jenna has been going absolutely nuts at the prospect of sharing a room with Anne.’
‘Yes, but that leaves Colin, Caroline and James in a room,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Do you think that would work?’
‘Caroline could sleep on the sofa,’ Fitzwilliam suggested again.
Jane frowned.
‘I don’t think she’d like that, particularly,’ she said. ‘But I bet James would love sharing with Colin. He adores him.’
‘That is a thought, actually,’ Elizabeth said. ‘But that still leaves us with Caroline to dispose of.’
‘We’ll let her choose,’ Fitzwilliam decreed. ‘Either the sofa, or she can share with Anne and Jenna.’
‘Hm,’ Jane said. ‘Oh, I suppose they will work it out. Oh, now I recall – Fitz, since Charles isn’t here, could you perhaps get Andy’s travel bed from the car? He fell asleep on the bed, but I don’t want to leave him there, he might fall out of it.’
Back outside, after having brought the bed to Jane, Fitzwilliam continued unloading the mini-vans, both theirs and the Bingleys’. He lifted a large plastic sack stuffed with miniature buckets, toy shovels, a little rake and at least a dozen animal-shaped moulds out of the car, followed by what had to be the world’s largest beach-tent (his wife had insisted on buying that), when he noticed that his new neighbour was similarly afflicted. That man was just then trying to pull a tricycle from where it had been wedged on top of several suitcases. His mini-van was the same brand as Fitzwilliam’s, only the colour was different. Upon seeing Fitzwilliam look over, the man waved. Tentatively, Fitzwilliam waved back. He did not think much of seaside friendships. The man pulled again at the tricycle, but to no avail; it was stuck. Fitzwilliam wondered what Elizabeth would do now.
‘Eh – do you want a hand?’ he asked hesitantly.
It was apparently the right thing to do. The man smiled and accepted graciously. Together, they managed to free the tricycle.
‘I don’t know how she does it,’ the man said. ‘My wife, that is. She’s stuffed this to the brim. Yours seem remarkably empty, comparably.’
‘Oh, my sister is coming later with more luggage,’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘Of course, what with Henry’s travel box, and everything -’
‘Of course,’ the man agreed. ‘I almost had to bring five guinea-pigs, but luckily, we could leave them with my brother.’
Fitzwilliam shuddered at the idea of guinea-pigs. He was lucky in that his offspring were content with the one animal, at least so far.
‘So, with, what, two mini-vans, and your sister’s car, you must be quite a lot of people, eh?’ the man said.
‘Thirteen, altogether,’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘Eight adults and the kids, of course.’
‘Blimey,’ the man said. ‘We’re only six, that is, we will be, once we’ve picked up my father-in-law from the train station.’
Fitzwilliam shuddered at the idea of having in-laws other than Jane coming on holidays with them.
‘How old are yours?’ the man asked.
‘The twins are five,’ Fitzwilliam said proudly. ‘And my youngest is only six months.’
‘Twins,’ the man said. ‘That must be quite a handful.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Fitzwilliam agreed. ‘They’re quite the rascals, too. Full of ideas. Rather bright, as well. I believe Anne has already started reading.’
‘Robert is just the same,’ the man said.
‘So, eh, how old are yours?’ Fitzwilliam asked.
‘Oh, Robert has just turned six,’ the man said. ‘Katherine is four, and William is almost two.’
As if on cue, a girl and a boy – Fitzwilliam presumed them to be Robert and Katherine – came running out of their bungalow and started talking to their father, both at the same time.
‘Now, that’s enough,’ the man said. ‘If your mother says Robert is to have the top bunk, then that is what you will do. And Robert, we will go to the beach when I have unloaded the car. You can both get your rucksacks from your seat and bring them to your rooms.’
He pulled a large suitcase out of the car and shrugged apologetically.
‘Sorry, I’ve got to go,’ he said to Fitzwilliam. ‘I suppose we’ll run into each other pretty soon at the beach.’
Fitzwilliam Darcy was not particularly amused. When he had proposed a cosy sea-holiday, he had somehow envisioned himself and his wife, frolicking in the waves or enjoying the sunset during a walk on the beach. He had, for the duration of these phantasies, completely forgotten that his wife had borne him three children, who, upon hearing of their father‘s plans, turned into a band of screeching banshees and were not to be silenced until their mama let them run around in their bathing suits for the rest of the afternoon. He had also forgotten that months ago, his beloved wife had made plans with her sister to spend a vacation together, and that said sister was also endowed with a husband and two children. That the husband was one of his best friends only slightly alleviated his pains, because, apparently, Charles Bingley always spent his holidays with his sister, and could not be dissuaded from inviting her. Fitzwilliam, in turn, thought that if everybody else brought their family, it was only fair that he should invite his cousin, who, having recently returned from a longer stint abroad, had difficulties settling in, and his sister, who in turn invited her boyfriend, from whom she could not bear to be parted.
Thus, Fitzwilliam Darcy was facing the difficulty of arranging sleeping arrangements for eight adults and five children in the giant bungalow he had rented, and of course, the labrador, the stroller, the pram, a crib and a foldable travel-bed. Directly after their arrival, Charles had made himself scarce under the pretense of renting bicycles for the three eldest children (thankfully, he had taken them with him), and Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam‘s adorable wife, had taken their youngest son (a strapping lad if ever there was one) to one of the many bedrooms in order to feed him, whilst Jane had taken her son inside to change his nappies. Georgiana and her boyfriend had not yet arrived, and so had Caroline and Colin, leaving Fitzwilliam with only Henry the labrador for help.
Fitzwilliam heaved another suitcase out of the back of his mini-van (how he missed his jag!) and set it down on the dried grass in front of the bungalow. Henry, tied to a fence-post, wagged his tail in a vaguely helpful manner.
‘You’re right,’ Fitzwilliam conceded. ‘It doesn’t make much sense to unload things if I don’t know where to put them.’
Henry looked at him expectantly.
‘Quite right,’ Fitzwilliam agreed.
He went inside, trying to remember in which bedroom his wife was.
‘Elizabeth!’ he yelled.
‘Back here,’ came a cry from the back of the house, ‘and try to be quiet!’
He made his way to a small but comfortable bedroom facing east, with a double bed and an armchair, in which is wife was currently seated.
‘He just fell asleep,’ she whispered and nodded at the bundle in her arms.
Fitzwilliam contemplated the bundle and felt, yet again, overwhelmed by the fact that he and Elizabeth had, for the third time now, produced such a perfect creature.
‘I love you, do you know that,’ he said softly and kissed her hair.
‘Do you, now?’ she said. ‘How terribly interesting!’
‘This our bedroom?’ he asked. ‘Looks very nice.’
‘It’s the best of the lot,’ Elizabeth said, ‘and there’s room for the crib in the corner. So naturally I secured it for us.’
‘Atta girl,’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘Where are the others sleeping?’
‘I think Jane has taken a liking to the bedroom just off the kitchen,’ Elizabeth said, ‘and she says it’s large enough to put Andy’s travel-bed in the corner. And I suppose Georgiana and Mark will want to have the one in the front, because it’s furthest away from all the other rooms.’
‘The one with the twin beds?’ Fitzwilliam asked. ‘Excellent.’
Elizabeth slapped him playfully on the arm.
‘You promised,’ she said.
‘Yes, yes, alright,’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘What about the terrors?’
‘If you mean our wonderful children,’ Elizabeth said, ‘the room next to this has a bunk bed, which I’m sure they’d love, but -’
‘Bunk bed?’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘With a ladder?’
‘It has a railing and everything,’ Elizabeth said. ‘But, that would leave the three-bed room for Colin, Caroline and Jenna, and I’m not sure whether that would work.’
‘Caroline can sleep on the sofa,’ Fitzwilliam suggested.
Elizabeth pondered this.
‘It would not be fair, though,’ she said. ‘And besides, that would still leave us with Colin sharing a room with a five-year-old girl who hardly knows him.’
The door opened.
‘Lizzy,’ Jane said, ‘have you seen Charles – oh, Fitz. Here you are.’
‘Charles went to rent bikes for the kids,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Fitz and I were just discussing sleeping arrangements.’
‘Oh, I thought that Jenna and Anne could share the room with the bunk bed,’ Jane said. ‘Wouldn’t they love that? Jenna has been going absolutely nuts at the prospect of sharing a room with Anne.’
‘Yes, but that leaves Colin, Caroline and James in a room,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Do you think that would work?’
‘Caroline could sleep on the sofa,’ Fitzwilliam suggested again.
Jane frowned.
‘I don’t think she’d like that, particularly,’ she said. ‘But I bet James would love sharing with Colin. He adores him.’
‘That is a thought, actually,’ Elizabeth said. ‘But that still leaves us with Caroline to dispose of.’
‘We’ll let her choose,’ Fitzwilliam decreed. ‘Either the sofa, or she can share with Anne and Jenna.’
‘Hm,’ Jane said. ‘Oh, I suppose they will work it out. Oh, now I recall – Fitz, since Charles isn’t here, could you perhaps get Andy’s travel bed from the car? He fell asleep on the bed, but I don’t want to leave him there, he might fall out of it.’
Back outside, after having brought the bed to Jane, Fitzwilliam continued unloading the mini-vans, both theirs and the Bingleys’. He lifted a large plastic sack stuffed with miniature buckets, toy shovels, a little rake and at least a dozen animal-shaped moulds out of the car, followed by what had to be the world’s largest beach-tent (his wife had insisted on buying that), when he noticed that his new neighbour was similarly afflicted. That man was just then trying to pull a tricycle from where it had been wedged on top of several suitcases. His mini-van was the same brand as Fitzwilliam’s, only the colour was different. Upon seeing Fitzwilliam look over, the man waved. Tentatively, Fitzwilliam waved back. He did not think much of seaside friendships. The man pulled again at the tricycle, but to no avail; it was stuck. Fitzwilliam wondered what Elizabeth would do now.
‘Eh – do you want a hand?’ he asked hesitantly.
It was apparently the right thing to do. The man smiled and accepted graciously. Together, they managed to free the tricycle.
‘I don’t know how she does it,’ the man said. ‘My wife, that is. She’s stuffed this to the brim. Yours seem remarkably empty, comparably.’
‘Oh, my sister is coming later with more luggage,’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘Of course, what with Henry’s travel box, and everything -’
‘Of course,’ the man agreed. ‘I almost had to bring five guinea-pigs, but luckily, we could leave them with my brother.’
Fitzwilliam shuddered at the idea of guinea-pigs. He was lucky in that his offspring were content with the one animal, at least so far.
‘So, with, what, two mini-vans, and your sister’s car, you must be quite a lot of people, eh?’ the man said.
‘Thirteen, altogether,’ Fitzwilliam said. ‘Eight adults and the kids, of course.’
‘Blimey,’ the man said. ‘We’re only six, that is, we will be, once we’ve picked up my father-in-law from the train station.’
Fitzwilliam shuddered at the idea of having in-laws other than Jane coming on holidays with them.
‘How old are yours?’ the man asked.
‘The twins are five,’ Fitzwilliam said proudly. ‘And my youngest is only six months.’
‘Twins,’ the man said. ‘That must be quite a handful.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Fitzwilliam agreed. ‘They’re quite the rascals, too. Full of ideas. Rather bright, as well. I believe Anne has already started reading.’
‘Robert is just the same,’ the man said.
‘So, eh, how old are yours?’ Fitzwilliam asked.
‘Oh, Robert has just turned six,’ the man said. ‘Katherine is four, and William is almost two.’
As if on cue, a girl and a boy – Fitzwilliam presumed them to be Robert and Katherine – came running out of their bungalow and started talking to their father, both at the same time.
‘Now, that’s enough,’ the man said. ‘If your mother says Robert is to have the top bunk, then that is what you will do. And Robert, we will go to the beach when I have unloaded the car. You can both get your rucksacks from your seat and bring them to your rooms.’
He pulled a large suitcase out of the car and shrugged apologetically.
‘Sorry, I’ve got to go,’ he said to Fitzwilliam. ‘I suppose we’ll run into each other pretty soon at the beach.’
