Like Macavity - I have been nowhere to be seen….Some of my detractors assume that this chap has been languishing in a police cell following an incident with a statue and some KY jelly.
No, I have been getting ever terser notes from my tailor about my bill there and notes from my flying club regarding overdue landing fees.
Not, as it happens. Because of poverty - but because a young lady of not inconsiderable pulchritude has been distracting me in the frozen wastes of T'North.
I am concerned that because of her fragrant charms and fine dining I fear I may be going native.
Once I would have shunned the Northern Breakfast for devilled kidneys, a dozen oysters, a bottle of champagne and a gramme of Bolivian - a fine breakfast that would set any Christian up for the day.
Now - I have been eyeing up Black Pudding and boiled ham with Piccalilli with glad rapture.
The final grim confirmation was when I saw a man with a terrier and holding a ferret I commented that it was 'reet grand'.
After our Anglo French dinner I commented on afterwards that it ' were proper belting'.
However, I draw the line at pretending York races are anything like Ascot. I fear that despite the fact we may going to one of the local race meets, she may be tempted to wear a hat more suitable for some of the gummier sloanes one finds in Surrey. I shall do my utmost, reader, to ensure she is restrained.
In the meantime I shall be perfecting the poise of a Northern gentleman - hunting tweeds, hearty breakfasts and rounding up the glowering small holders to have them flogged for the pettiest of misdemeanours.
Not for me the grubby commercialistic mill-owning with the inexorable slide into a gruesome paternalistic socialism!