Assignment on Drift and Plot

The invitation to the chateau was tediously grandiose.  An intimidating dinner of shimmering silver and crystallised glass;     knives and forks polished to within an inch of their silver plated lives,  placed, measured and millimetered to equal distance between each setting -  Sophie wished she could take French leave …

Salad was served as is the custom in France seeped in olive dressing,  she remembered to fold her lettuce and not cut.    This was a French rule learnt in the early days of arriving in France when she had been reprimanded on cutting the lettuce into bite size pieces - Non Non “My dear”  it’s very bad manners to cut your lettuce leaves, in France we fold them into 4 

"Comme ceci, vous voyez” and then pop the packet into the mouth - 

Anyway,  on this particular salad feasting Sophie was about to move her folded lettuce bundle to her mouth when she perceived a tiny head with antennae, beady black eyes and fragile shell;    looking a little closer she saw that it was a baby snail.  “Please Miss”, he cried “I’ve lost my mother could you not eat me and help me find her”   Sophie stopped in mid-mouthful.  

Goodness how on earth was she going to find a mother snail at this chic dining table.   

Opposite her was an Elvis P.  type person with a quivering quiff and fabulously coloured jacket lining who was just lifting his fork;   she noticed crouching underneath the last lettuce leaf on his salad plate what could only be the baby snails mother.   “Oh Mr Marmalade shoes” - could I just ask you something - she had to stall his eating before the mummy snail disappeared down his gullet squashed, crushed, and digested (or not) forevermore.    “I didn’t help but notice your amazing shoes while we were having an aperitif in the Grand Salon - where did you find such an interesting colour of leather”?    He stopped in mid-sentence - interested in being interested in himself - funny you should ask “My dear”,  “I was in Milan just the other day and saw this divine but totally di…vine pair of shoes made of cowhide”.   Sophie flinched.   “They cost the earth,  but my mother,  who, between you and me is as rich as they come,  forked out the 6.665 euros for them.”     

As he was talking he was waving his hand about, gesticulating and doing so flicked inadvertently Mummy snail over to Sophie’s plate.  She reunited the family to her pocket, they slimed together happily. 

 “Excuse me for a moment,  I think I left my headlights on” 

Escape  -  Back at the farm Gertie was feeling congested.  In fact her udder was taught and full like a water balloon filled with milk,  teats leaking and she was near to freakout time.   

Gertie thought this was really too much - mistress Sophie who had inherited the farm from a distant aunt - was never on time for milking.  But ah - 

Footsteps on the cobblestones - whew!   and soft delicate fingers relieved her milk overload.  Gertie battered her luscious eyelashes and shifted her weight flicking her tail …  “ Sorry” said Sophie muttering a story about a snail which Gertie couldn’t totally comprehend  

“Just come to say goodbye” the not such a young as she thought boy with the studded pointy marmelade colour shoes so totally out of place in her manurey backyard,  was strolling among her cows poking them on their hind quarters, “now this one would make a wonderful pair of shoes” …Gertie swung her head round to give Sophie her special stink-eye stare