New Tail: Phoebe and Mags Worthington of “The Mews” Belgravia : Cat Napping - Clarkie In Peril

 

Tails  featuring Phoebe and Mags Worthington of  “The Mews” Belgravia

Cat Napping : Clarkie In Peril 

Time setting 1948: London

 I

                      

                                                        Podger Ogilvy Innes III

                                 CHARACTER LIST FOR THIS TAIL

PODGER OGILVY INNES III - A brave mouse known as "Podge"

MAGS WORTHINGTON - Ward of Dame Katrina Ogilvy, owner of "The Mews"

CLARKIE – A clever feline

GOFFERS MOOGAN AND PAULIE GATSBY – two dirty ships rats

PHOEBE WORTHINGTON – Ward of Dame Katrina Ogilvy, sister of Mags

THE BUTCHER’S BOY – One of  “ The Magnificent Seven”

NATASHA – Kitchen Maid at “The  Mews” Belgravia, of Ukrainian decent

IVOR – A Billingsgate Fish trader and ex sailor

MASCHWITZ - Ivor’s familiar

DANIEL – A GPO Telegram Boy at Pimlico GPO and fiancé of Natasha the kitchen maid

THE PIMLICO MARAUDERS – Cousins of Podge, based at Pimlico GPO

ALFIE WOMBCHILD –A Circus Owner

 

Podger Ogilvy Innes III ( known as “Podge”) arrived off the night sleeper from Northern Britain ( some people call it Scotland).

The mail van at Euston Railway Station  from the Pimlico GPO -where Podge had several cousins to make  the necessary arrangements- whisked  him safely to “The Mews”, Belgravia,  where he was anxious to see Mags Worthington, whom he knew from past tails.

Despite being at opposite ends of the food chain, Podge and Mags were old,  well respected, and much beloved  allies and adventurers   from  holiday times spent   ( with  Dame Katrina Ogilvy’s entourage)  at the Ogilvy family seat of Auld Murdie Hoose on the Lameside Estate.

Podge was still aglow at raising Mags  to the  honour bestowed by Montgomery of Lameside of the Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Dragon of Lameside, Gold Collar Class.

                                                                        Lady Mags 

The Order duly  deemed that Mags  could use the title of  “ Lady Mags”.

It was just 5am. No one was yet awake at “The Mews”.

Podge came up through the cellars and located Mags by way of  her unique scent.

Mags was asleep in the hall way. She had had a very restless night.

Podge went for the big entrance with no thought to Mags being startled by his presence.

He decided a few loud scratches and squeaks from behind the hall table, where a large aspidistra plant  stood,   should do it. And it did.

Mags woke and stared at the intruder in complete shock.

Podge coughed and spurted out : “ My Dear Lady Mags, please forgive this intrusion.”

Mags gulped.

Podge also gulped.  “My Dear Lady.  I bring you fond greetings from all your friends at Auld Murdie Hoose and on Lameside Loch and Estate. ” 

“Po…oodge” cried Mags, adding “Is it really you?”

“ Yes, it’s me, it’s been a long time” replied Podge.

Mags was now quite awake. “ Podge! Oh Podge!. Why are you here? Whose died?” she said.

“ No one has died ( yet)” replied Podge but in near tears added

 “ My Lady I need your help” .

“Out with it Podge, tell me everything.” demanded Mags.

Podge’s voice was grasping with emotion:

“ It’s our beloved friend Clarkie. She has met with a dark and grisly fate here in London Town. We must rescue her.”

II

 

            Podge Ogilvy Innes III’s Special Mission                

                                                                                                                                Clarkie

“ Do you remember Clarkie, My Lady?” asked Podge.

 “ Oh, yes!”, replied Mags, adding:

 “ We all had a wonderful day together on Lameside Canal.

Oh! What a tail that was, Podge.”

“ Yes, she’s a one-off is Clarkie ” thought Mags “ Always reeling off facts and more facts, a great talent for recall and memory, just like a walking Encyclopaedia.”

“ What’s happened to her?” asked Mags.

“ Clarkie has been duped, catnapped, and is held against her will” said Podge.

Mags sniffled.

“ Oh! Podge, but how?” pleaded Mags.

“ She fell for the lure of show business, My Lady, in a job with a touring branch of  Wombchild’s Circus. But it has all backfired.”

Mags reflected for a moment.

“ Our glorious history is teeming with notable thespians, Podge dear, from Mayor Whittington’s accomplice, down to the present day.

I think you know my sister Phoebe was a great friend of Gus, The Theatre Cat.”

Podge nodded.

Mags sighed and sniffled again.

Gathering her thoughts together Mags announced

“We must tell Phoebe at once, she’ll know what to do.”

Podge nodded in agreement saying.

“ We must act immediately, My Lady. That poor thing Clarkie  is held captive on board a barge on the River Thames by monsters.”

                                            The barge on the Thames Embankment

“ Monsters?” squealed Mags.

“ Aye, monsters” said Podge. “ Those two dirty ships rats, Goffers Moogan and Pauly Gatsby are  also back on the scene.”

                                                                 Moogan and Gatsby

Mags gulped again.

 

III

 Clarkie’s Confinement Near The Tower of London

                                                                   Clarkie in Peril 

“Oh! Oh! My! That bloomin hurt” said Clarkie.

 It was a relief for Clarkie  to start to  breathe normally.  The mask had been fixed tight around her mouth and nose.

 “Come out here  little Kitty, where I can see you.” said the voice.

                                                            Clarkie and  "The Butcher's Boy"

It was a rough pitched voice and hard to know whether it was male or female.

 “OK,  clever little  Kitty, let’s hear it.” said the  voice whose  name  was “The Butchers- Boy”, a Jack Russell,  that night’s watchman over Clarkie.

Clarkie was reluctant to come out, she was scared and shaking. 

She was held captive on a poorly-lit barge on the River Thames adjoining the precincts of the  Tower of London by " The Magnificent Seven".

                                                             The Magnificent Seven

Clarkie's  jailors were a group of circus dogs, all mongrels, whose  stage name was “ The Magnificent Seven”,   far too big for their boots. They had chanced on making some extra money by having  Clarkie, who possessed an incredible amount of  facts and knowledge,  amuse specially invited guests on tours of the Tower of London’s landmarks. 

                                                       IV

                                         Traitor's Gate

 

“ Right,  little clever Kitty, let’s get you earning your keep here ” said Clarkie’s jailor, ‘ The Butchers Boy’, a sneaky Jack Russell terrier.

“ We’ll call this a wee dress rehearsal, Kitty.   You had  better be good Kitty, or there’s no grub for you tonight” snarled   ‘The Butchers Boy’.

“ My name’s Clarkie, Sir, not Kitty” replied Clarkie in a tone of  fierce catty defiance.  

The Butchers Boy growled.

Clarkie hissed.

Recovering herself,  Clarkie sighed. “ OK, dog, you sound as though your education is  lacking.  Your breed is  well known for being snappy and yappy and quite deficient of  brain cells."

The Butchers Boy snarled.

"What information do you wish, Sir?” asked Clarkie.

The Butcher’s Boy snared again and replied:

“ Right, Kitty, what’s Traitors Gate?”

Clarkie began her description of one of the Tower’s most famous landmarks.

“ The Traitors’ Gate is beneath St Thomas’s Tower. For many years it was the watergate through which prisoners were sent to the famous Tower of London..”

“ More, we need more, Kitty, more” spat The Butchers Boy.

Clarkie was still shaken, but continued with her description.

                              Thomas Cranmer at Traitor's Gate

“ One famous image of this site is Frederick Goodall’s picture of  Thomas Cranmer being taken  to his destiny  via  Traitors’  Gate.  Cranmer was Archbishop of Canterbury in the reign of Kings Henry VIII and Edward VI.   Poor Cranmer was later burnt at  the stake for treason and heresy….”

“ That’ll do, Kitty” sneered ‘The Butchers Boy’.  The cur  laughed and threw a tiny fish in Clarkie’s direction adding “ Don’t eat it all at once, Kitty.”

In a  secluded corner of the barge two dirty  ships rats known as Moogan and Gatsby – who were stowaways-  lay sniggering at  Clarkie’s fate.

“ Zoounds” gasped Moogan,  who was vastly  overweight, hairy,  breathless and dribbled.

Addressing Gatsby,   Moogan bleated out “ My sweet dearest Boy, my precious, just  think of  all the lovely, lovely  smackaroos we could make for we two,  by having that darn cat all to ourselves, under our control.  ”

“But the Seven curs  are much stronger than us, they say they are quite  infallible, like wolves in a pack  ” complained Gatsby.

“ Nonsense, dear heart, listen,  I have a devilish plan” answered Moogan.  

Gatsby sniggered saying  “ Whatever you say, my great beloved Goffers,  you know I adore your every word and every  golden  breath you take.”

A few miles away at “ The Mews”  the enormity of trying to rescue Clarkie was under consideration by Podge Ogilvy Innes III and Phoebe and Mags Worthington.

Mags had a bold idea to discuss.

Swallowing her excitement, Mags said  “ I’ve got it!  I know, I know, we could ask Ivor’s familiar Maschwitz to help us, that little fella is a magician and trickster.”

Ivor  was a former Soviet sailor and hero of the Imperial Navy.  He now ran  a high class fish and seafood business  at Billingsgate Market, that supplied all the occupants of “The Mews” Belgravia.

                                                   Ivor

Being an ex-sailor who had gone all around the world  Ivor had a collection of  exotic  companions  he had picked up in foreign  parts. One of them was Maschwitz –  a chameleon like creature and who   like Ivor   was a part-time special  constable whose jurisdiction included the Embankment and the Tower of London.

“ Ivor and Maschwitz.  deliver  their produce to The Tower of London”, said Mags, blurting out “ Just after they’ve called here.  They could help rescue Clarkie.”  

Phoebe interrupted, equally excited but was cautious.

“ It’s risky,  it’s  not  certain,  but it might work.  Ivor has proved he is one of those rare people  who knows our world and yes, by using  Maschwitz’s special  powers, yes,  it could come off.”

Mags was relieved to get Phoebe’s blessing adding

 “Ivor’s due here  today. ”

Podge squealed with delight  “ Oh! Yes, Yes, Yes, Dear Ivor, the hero of another past adventure on the River Thames”.

 “ That will allow us to  save the day and we can rescue Clarkie.” said Mags.

In the kitchen at “ The Mews” Natasha, the Ukrainian kitchen maid was overheard in conversation in their own mother tongue  with Ivor of Billingsgate,  and Maschwitz who  were delivering the finest, plumpest  shrimps and mussels  to  Natasha  for  her to prepare and serve her own version of Crimean Seafood Orzo as a supper dish for Dame Katrina Ogilvy.

Natasha handed Ivor a bag full of nuts and fruit and bananas, all in very short supply in 1948.

“These are from  our cook Olga and I  for dear Maschwitz”  said Natasha , adding :

“Olga  is able to secure these rare treats from the American military, this is a reward for  all your  wheeling and dealing in order to provide  us  with the finest products from the home country.   

Good Bless our beloved  Ukraine. ”

Ivor replied: 

"To our beloved country.

Soul and body shall we lay down

For our freedom." 

 As Ivor and Natasha continued  chatting  Maschwitz heard his name spoken in the cellars below  and slipped downstairs where he heard of the plight of Clarkie.

“ Rest assured , my friends ”  declared Maschwitz :

“Ivor and  I will apprehend these dastardly  villains  and bring Clarkie safely home again.”

V

 

                                                      Clarkie's Tail of Woe

A few miles away  on the barge on the  Embankment Clarkie  was  in deep despair.  Despite being under duress she was determined to retain her high standards of  smart dress and  supreme coolness on her first assignment that evening  inside the Tower of London  at ‘The Ceremony of the Keys.’

It had always been a pleasure to Clarkie to cite things, but this current  situation  was not of her own choice, she was being held against her will, under lock and key and had been on the receiving end of harsh treatment and near starvation.

Clarkie was determined to retain her smartness and coolness against all the odds.

“Right  little Kitty,  let’s hear your rendition of the “Ceremony of the Keys” sneered the Butcher’s Boy , adding:

"You have an audience"

                                                           Clarkie's Audience

“If you’re word perfect Kitty there’s a sardine treat for you” nagged " The Butcher's Boy".

Clarkie sighed.  

She knew she had no choice but to comply with her jailor's command, but the words that followed were painful to get out.

       

                                                          The Yeomen of the Tower

“At exactly 9.53 pm every night , the Chief Yeoman Warder, dressed in Tudor watchcoat and bonnet, and carrying a candle lantern, leaves the Byward Tower and falls in with the Escort to the Keys……..”

Clarkie continued to reel off a full description of the Ceremony and fell over completely exhausted.

“ Bravo - Very good Kitty!”     sniggered ‘The Butcher’s Boy” and threw Clarkie a small sardine.

In a corner of the barge  the two dirty ships  rats Moogan and Gatsby had witnessed the scene.

“Zoounds, dear boy,” said Moogan to his companion whispering and dribbling into Gatsby’s ear:

“ Oh my precious the  sweet tasting pussycat is an absolute  genius, and we shall have her all for ourselves tonight and escape to our own vessel across the river and be well gone. ”

Gatsby nodded in agreement.

However ..all those on board the barge were about to be taken by surprise and brought down with an almighty  clout, wham and bang.

VI              

                                                                  Ivor's truck

Ivor’s delivery truck paused en route for the Thames  Embankment to allow a  second vehicle, a GPO sorting wagon to draw  up close by them  in the street.

                                                                           Daniel

There was  a burst of applause from Ivor when he spotted  the well-kent face of  Natasha’s fiancé Daniel stepping out of  the second vehicle.   

For Daniel this was a far cry from his ordinary day time  job as a motor cycle  telegram and despatch rider.  But he was delighted to help to play his small part in the  rescue of  Clarkie.

Mags Worthington and Podge Ogilvy Innes III were  travelling with Ivor and Maschwitz whilst inside  Daniel’s  wagon were  a contingent of  Podge’s cousins from the  local  Sorting Office,  kitted out in full battle dress   as mercenaries. They  dubbed themselves “The  Pimlico Marauders”.  

Podge  had specially mobilised his elite cousins in order  to  apprehend the two dirty rats, Moogan and Gatsby .

                                         The Pimlico Marauders prepare for battle

The Marauders were baring up for a fight by partaking of a large cheese protein snack and little war dance.

Arriving close to the barge on the Embankment the rescuers waited until darkness fell before  making  their assault. 

It was aimed at being an orchestrated raid, the plan to hit  quickly and to surprise those holding Clarkie.   It soon   became a very  noisy scene,  only just short of chaos   easily comparable  with the  sight of pirates  boarding and taking over a ship in a Hollywood  movie epic.

On the barge there was  wailing, barking, crying, squealing, growling, yelling and spitting. But one by one the “Magnificent Seven” awoke from their slumbers and were caged by Ivor and Daniel.

Alfie Wombschild – one of partners in Wombwell’s Circus- was speechless with rage.

“ What the hell  is happening here? ” Wombchild demanded to know of Ivor.

Ivor produced a document and served it on the circus man as  was required by the law.

Ivor took a deep breath and declared:

 “Wombchild,  I am a special constable Sir with Billingsgate Market Constabulary.  I hereby  impound  your group of performers known as "The Magnificent Seven” in accordance with a failure by you under the Dog Licences Act 1867 since  no Licence can be traced for  any of them.”

Ivor was not finished. He produced another document.  “ Sir, I am also arresting you on charges of  animal cruelty.”

Under caution Wombchild said nothing more and left the barge to be taken away by awaiting constables.

                                          "The Butcher's Boy" Close to Capture

“The Butcher’s Boy” proved  the hardest of all  to catch but he was distracted by Podge who teased him onto a window ledge and  he soon  surrendered when a post bag was flung over his head by Maschwitz.

Elsewhere in a co-ordinated  attack,  also led by Ivor’s familiar,  Maschwitz  the raiders went into a joint  action of attack  led  by  Podge and the  Pimlico Marauders.

Maschwitz was an expert in old world  rope, wire  and net  tricks. He lassoed Moogan and Gatsby,  attached a  stinging  bared wire to their testes  and swept them up into  a  net  and  forced  the  two dirty  rats inside a  heavy duty  black Post Office  sack. 

“ Zoounds” cried Moogan, turning to Gatsby .  “ My sight!  Oh my eyes,  dear boy, I am been blinded and my manhood is cut.”

Gatsby was already wriggling  inside the sack, whining, and sobbing.

Without more ado the said  sack was conveyed by Daniel  to a despatch rider chum  to speed off to  Tilbury Docks  and onto   a ship bound for a  very  inhospitable and disease infected  overseas territory out of everybody’s reach.

In the hue and cry Clarkie’s fate had somehow been overlooked.

Mags had searched high and low on the barge and called out Clarkie’s name. There had been no response.

However, Clarkie had sensed the danger from an early stage and lay silent in the dark, dank cell she had been dumped into in order to keep her at bay.

Mags soon sound and released her friend to cheers and purrs and rounds of applause.

Back at “The Mews” the celebrations to  commemorate Clarkie’s  release  lasted hours and hours.

Mags turned to Clarkie and said with a smile:

“ Dear Clarkie you must know all about this "Dog Licences Act", that saved us today.”

For the first time in a long time Clarkie was pleased to share her knowledge without being abused and bullied.

“Yes, my dear friends, it is almost 80 years since a dog tax was first imposed and originally the amount of the tax varied according to the breed of the dog.

Ultimately it was fixed at an amount not exceeding 12 shillings by the Dog Licences Act, 1867 at a  rate of   5 shillings per dog, regardless of breed. Then in 1878 the Customs and Revenue Act raised the tax to 7 shillings and 6 pence, at which figure it still remains today in 1948…..”

“Hurrah!” said Mags.

Everyone cheered that Clarkie was free and still in magnificent form.

Mags ended the happy proceedings with a toast to the hero of  the raid, Ivor's familiar, Maschwitz. 

"To Maschwitz" said all.

TO BE CONTINUED ( PURRHAPS)

ENQUIRIES BY E-MAIL ON PHOEBE AND MAGS WORTHINGTON AND FRIENDS

williecross@aol.com

MORE TAILS IN THE FULL LENGTH BOOK BELOW

Available direct from the Author/ Amazon/ebay

 

 

 

The Moles of Intriguer Park, Bassaleg Fields : A Fantasy- 'Wild Bill' Intriguer

 

The Moles of Intriguer Park, Bassaleg Fields

 A Fantasy- 'Wild Bill' Intriguer 

A TASTER TAIL BELOW

                  The first Mole to recount  is from  the 18th Century.

                      He  is Sir William “Wild Bill” Intriguer, KB.

Commemorated on Mount Rushmole -2nd left above 

Based on Sir William Morgan, KB, 1700-1732

Sir William Intriguer, KB ( i.e. Knight of the Bath), was a most impressive member  in the dirty, earthly, wormy,  history  of the Moles of  Intriguer House during the early 18th Century.

Dubbed “Wild Bill” by Sandy Boggy-Mole, his  old dirt  tutor, who patiently tried to coach and teach him the Greek and Latin Mole verse of worms, slugs and centipedes, the precocious “William” ( his Sunday name)  was only interested in playing the dice and following the cockroach racing on the Taffy Mole Hills of  Cardiff.    So fond was he of cockroaches that William had them farmed under the  Bassaleg Fields  for racing and for  the high table at lavish dinner parties and his head cook ‘Wee Shug’   gained fame with an accompanying book of recipes and exhibitions as far away as the annual Abergavenny Mole Food Festival.

When  still a teenager William  gave his patronage to a notorious,  seedy, bookmakers Club cum saloon bar in  Newport’s Mole Wetlands  where his  nickname of   “Wild Bill” guaranteed prestige and attraction  from dodgy Moles and dodgy Molls and  he got to stay out all the  hours that God sent  tunnelling in the outskirts of  Duffryn and  Intriguer Park with his gang of sycophants and low life toads (well Moles).

Into adulthood William inherited  the Intriguer Estates  and as heir was awarded  a  Star by the Round Table as an  honourable Knight of the Roman Baths of Caerleon, and thus he was entitled to have  the letters “KB” after his name.

Such an award had slipped out of fashion.  In London the Great Bobby Walpole Mole had revived  the  title and the Caerleon Round Table thought “Wild Bill”  was a suitable local beneficiary.

Conceited, arrogant  Willam  let his badge of honour go straight to his head, insisting on wearing the star as an attachment to the end of his nose.

Everyone heard of  the sparkle of 22 rays sticking out from each of his  nostrils. But of course most of the Mole tribes couldn’t see it  as they were short sighted. But they heard of the grossness  of  Sir William’s life style, with  a  exotic import of a black mole servant named Bardoletti from the West Indies,  a sure token of wealth and power – and sumptuous  banquets where insects, larvae of beetles, caddisflies, midges, dragonflies and damselflies were all served on platters, as well as fat cockroaches. 

Some said Sir William was behaving as if he was the Prince of South Wales, but this was in his DNA  as his pedigree contained a droplet of  Royal Welsh blood, albeit off a female line.

                                                              'Wild Bill' Intriguer, KB

ORIGINAL DRAWINGS BY NEWPORT'S  GERARD WHYMAN

 

William Cross, FSA Scot 

The Moles of Intriguer House, Bassaleg Fields, South Wales

 Profiles based on folk in the infamous

Morgan family of Tredegar House

ENQUIRIES : PLEASE EMAIL

 

THE OLD MOLE CATCHER

 

WILLIAM CROSS

williecross@aol.com