Don’t Let the Penguins Out – Lynda Waterhouse

The gate was already open…

By the time I arrived on the scene the gate was wide open and there was not a penguin in sight. I checked the pond. It was empty apart from one sitting duck and a few fish. All those penguins must have skedaddled over the South Downs or been bundled into that refrigerated van that nearly ran me down on the lane. I wasn’t too worried. I had other fish to fry.

Barkley the dog gave me the once over and when he sniffed out that I wasn’t carrying any meat products or stray penguins he pretty much left me alone.

I couldn’t believe my luck. The fates had granted me not three wishes but three days by myself at Tilton House. Was I thrilled? YAAAHOOOO!!! This was Tilton House former home of economist Maynard Keynes and his Russian ballerina wife, Lydia Lopokova and now run by Polly and Shaun.

I wasn’t thinking straight and I was badly in need of inspiration, a battery recharge and a place to be still and to think.

The sun shone. I walked on the downs and dropped in for the last tour of the day at Charleston Farmhouse which shimmered in the early evening light. I watched the sunset with ponies, lambs, rabbits and a grouse for company. I sniffed roses that had the most delicate perfume. I scribbled in a notebook. I drank too much wine and discovered Sky TV and watched Buffy. I re-read snippets from Judith Mackrell’s wonderful biography, ‘Bloomsbury Ballerina.’ Slowly the tangle of thoughts unravelled, the batteries were topped up and I could see that the thoughts, ideas and plotlines were still there. I just needed some silence to hear them.

I had banished those ‘hardsell, market yourself, maintain your profile, boost your sales, Tweet, push-push-push, pitch, compete’ aspects of an author’s life. Sometimes you have to open the gate and let out those pesky penguins.