My brother-in-law, Simon, came into my life when I was eight – two years after my father left my life, to live with his mistress in Ealing.
Perfectly true and not a bad opener for an autobiography. As Simon only reads The Racing Post and the First Lesson at Trim Cathedral (so will not read this) I can put it on record that he has been a formative influence. I was a child, my grandparents were old, my mother had cancer and my brother was serving overseas in the Irish Guards; Simon unobtrusively filled a role supporting my sister and dealing with things.
He is especially good at funerals. The mausoleum at Barmeath is set in woodland across the lake to the south of the castle; a good place to rest ones weary bones but not so easy to transport them there. He instituted a practical tradition by putting coffins on his Land Rover. I wonder if he suggested this to the Duke of Edinburgh when they played polo? When my grandfather died the Land Rover wasn’t needed as GP (Grandpa) wanted to be cremated. In those days the nearest crematorium was on the outskirts of Belfast. Simon, ever practical, thought we’d drive there with my grandfather in his horse-box; something that would have delighted my grandfather but was not allowed at the Border.
A tricky one, I’d say. Our mutual friend Dinah was executor to the mother of a friend. The mother died in Northumberland and the family, who had plenty of money, wished to economise by driving mother down in a horse box. Dinah put her foot down and refused to allow it.
The 7th Duke of Westminster was driven from his grouse moor at Abbeystead where he died (August 2019) in an estate landrover to Eaton Hall by two of the 14 keepers.