Epilogue
Deep in a conservatory room masquerading as a jungle, two grey-haired women sit over tea. One is as stout as she is tall, with ruddy cheeks and a no nonsense look about her—Lady Ursaline. The other is Lady Ursaline’s oldest and best friend, Lady Drey. Lady Drey is tall and thin, with an African Grey parrot perched on her shoulder.
Both have a stack of digestive biscuits on their plates. Lady Drey is feeding her stack to her parrot, Elvis.
Lady Ursaline sips her tea loudly and smacks her lips. “It was lovely, Tiffy. So sorry you missed it. This country hasn’t had a good defenestration since 1866.”
“Really?” Lady Drey arches a delicate eyebrow. “I’m surprised you know that.”
Lady Ursaline puffs up. “Of course I know it. It was my bloody ancestor who did the defenestrating. Bene
