A Life in the Day of Nixdown Nixon - The Woody Back to School Unit

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always sign up for a position in the family’s quality
control division.
Now suitably accessorized for my day as the
Duty Monitor I stroll down the landing to Lady
Victoria’s study to see whether she is ready.
Lady Vix is swallowing down the dregs of her
coffee, presumably supplied by the good offices of
Derby and burning a cigarette. She is dressed in a
deep red silk blouse with black piping around the
collar and a short black flared skirt. She wears a black
tie around her neck that she has not yet got around
to fastening.
“Morning,” she half-yawns, “Give me a few
minutes and we’ll get the fawkin’ show on the road,”
she drawls in her aristocratic voice.
I tell her that there is no hurry and bum one of
her fags.
I have known Vix since the Ladette days when
Jojo and I used to party together with the likes of Cat
and Melons. Glorious days when we worked like
demons all day and tripped the light fantastic all
night. Before she was arrested and banged up at
Woodys, for dancing naked in the fountains of
Trafalgar Square on her twenty-first birthday, I had
the privilege of attending several of her New-Years
Eve balls at her father’s pile. I think that Victoria’s
family has an even longer heritage than Derby’s.
Brompton Castle was built back in the ninth or tenth
century and is a rather ethereal spot on the top of a
hill with panoramic views of the Brompton estate. The
interior has mostly been renovated and modernized
but thankfully the Brompton family has had the good
sense to keep the dungeons intact and I have spent