…. otherwise known as – yes, and what happens next??
There are times when my lads are about as far from me as Awbre-cat is. (Perhaps not… the day I find Luce Pettitt sitting in my lap with his chin resting on the space bar, there will be Words Had.)
But I tell you what, having Hapless Russell glowering at you at short range is a sobering experience.
It’s a bit like this. You may – or may not – know, Russell and his sister have never got on, not since he was a little boy being brought up by Fly and her husband (badly), not since she decided after Edgehill that he was an object of pity and contempt, certainly not since she showed up at White Notley after Naseby and said – things. Bad things. She disowned him after that – as if he gave a tinker’s – and they didn’t set eyes on one another again.
Mind, he looks a lot less ragged, since he got married. (You didn’t know Russell was married? Oh yes – well, you could have seen it coming, mind.) Had a bit of a rough patch after the Civil War, what with one thing and another, went a little bit odd – odder, then – sort of lost touch with everyone except Babbitt, acquired himself a recurring fever in Scotland under General Monck that nearly killed him, cut all his hair off, gave up caring what he looked like –
and then he got married, and, well, Mistress Russell won’t put up with none of that sort of silliness, so he bucked his ideas up something remarkable.
He’s got it in his head that there was something odd about his sister’s death, though. And you know what Hapless is when he sets his teeth in something.
And he’s not going to give over worriting at it, till he finds out.
But – sorry, Russell, old son. You’ve got four more Uncivil Wars books, a series of short stories, and then the Thirty Years’ War stuff to wait for. (And you weren’t even born then, Hapless, so just be patient!)