Today being World Honeybee Day (as opposed to World Bee Day and World Don't-Step-On-A-Bee Day earlier this month) we were just preparing a little party to welcome Newbie the New Bee to our little family, when the postman called with a Registered Delivery for me.
It was a letter from Messrs I Can't Believe It's A Solicitor plc on behalf of their client, W Vermilingua Esq.
The letter says that I am to be charged the sum of £2.00 for my four unlicensed uses of the word 'and' in yesterday's blog, and advising me that not only should I expect to be invoiced the sum of 50p for each future unlicensed use, I should in future always write the word as follows: 'and™'.
I looked at Wilson and said, 'You've registered the word "And" – and you're trying to charge me every time I use it? Really? That's an outrage!'
'I should probably have mentioned that to you,' he replied, 'But allow me to explain:
(1) I think you mean "and™",
(2) if you're going to flout the law, you should expect to pay the price, and™ finally
(3) I didn't want to mention this, but you owe me another £1 for your last sentence!'
Uncle Zoltan then appeared, as if on cue, read through my letter and™ pronounced it '200 per cent legal – you've no option but to pay up, Wilson's New Dad – or face Jail Time!'
Byron shuffled about looking awkward and™ embarrassed.
I glared at Wilson, but Uncle Z continued, 'Of course I have some experience in these matters, and™ I would happily represent you in court for a… well, a trifling fee, but as my client I should probably advise you that in all likelihood you'll go down!'
Acknowledging my agitation, Wilson told me, 'Calm down, New Dad – why don't you take a couple of your Zyquako Tablets? You know how much better they make you feel!'
Polly and Billi are a bit later home than they expected, having had to post Bail for Uncle Z after he got into a fight with someone over an Insect-O-Cutor on a café wall…
Anyway, when everyone left Uckfield Station, I counted them out, and today I counted them back… and there was one left over – Polly and Billi were accompanied by a supernumary bee!
Wilson regarded the interloper and, not being one to beat about the bush, demanded, 'What's that on it's face?'
Polly answered, saying sternly, 'It's not an "it", it's a "She"! Oh, I mean she's a "She"! Anyway, although she's clearly not the Turkish Bee, we all agreed it might be best if she wore a little gas mask until her Quarantine Period is over.'
'That's right,' replied the new bee, her voice muffled through the respirator but with a clearly recognisable Bristol accent, 'Just to err on the side of caution. Please don't worry, it's not terribly uncomfortable…'
Wilson addressed her, in a loud, slow voice: 'Hello. Little. Bee – Do. You. Speak. English? Have. You. Got. A. Name?'
The new bee nodded and shook her head in answer to the questions.
'In that case,' W declared, 'I shall call you "Newbie", for you are a New Bee!'
The Bees and Uncle Z's return appears to have been delayed – Kew is lovely at this time of year, so I expect they've decided to extend their stay… although it would be good if they'd let us know.
To pass the time until they get here, Wilson has been into the village to buy a picture frame, and has mounted and framed Monday's Front Page of The Sun, in which the three Freedom Fighters are featured – after all, it's not every day a family member makes Front Page News!
Not in a Good way, anyway…
I hope Polly and Billi and Uncle Zoltan get home soon – otherwise I shall feel very embarrassed calling the Police to report what can only be described as… well, two missing bees and a hornet!
Although I'm comforting myself with the thought that the Missing Persons Bureau probably gets calls like that all the time…
I wouldn't like you to think I buy this dreadful rag, but Sky News shows all the Front Pages in its All Out Politics show, which I watch every morning over breakfast.
You can imagine how surprised I was to see Polly and Billi's little faces gazing out at me from the screen – I nearly choked on my Granola!
Of course we're all tremendously proud, although I think Wilson might be a tiny bit put out that The Sun didn't mention him… or his Drug-Naming Business… his ODDSIES! sock-hire venture or any of his other (failed) business enterprises, come to that.
However, The Bees have achieved what they set out to do – they have drawn everyone's attention to the plight of the Death Row Bee, and although a reprieve has not yet been granted at least it is free for now.
Technically I suppose the more accurate description would be 'On the run', although Polly says that a Free Pardon is 'probably' only hours away.
A sense of unease has descended on the house – I think we're all worried about how The Bees are getting on in London.
They're both Country Girls, so are completely unprepared for Big City Life and, to be honest, a little bit naïve – while Uncle Zoltan's Bad Attitude could get him into all sorts of trouble!
While Wilson paced up and down in the garden, halfheartedly trying to teach a simple trick to a group of passing ants, Byron attempted to distract me by challenging me to a game of What Ant Is It?
I really tried to concentrate, but no matter how hard I stared all the ants on my side of the board looked identical, so I lost three games in a row.
I didn't even know what sort of questions to ask – 'Does this ant have a sticky-out bit on its, um, middle bit?' seemed somehow lacking in insight.
Byron was very kind, but I fear I may have gone down a little in his estimation.
LATER:
Billi has just phoned to say they are all okay and had been to Number Ten.
She said they were going to visit Kew Gardens tomorrow, so we shouldn't expect them back until Tuesday or Wednesday, depending on the weather, and sent their love to everyone – especially their children Johnson Major and Johnson Minor, ending the call by shouting, 'Free The Bee! Right On!'.
