Thank you again for supper last evening – it was a pleasant change for the two of us to spend a little ‘man’ time together after having been very much a threesome for the last few weeks. Mary has asked me to pass on her enthusiastic request that, should another suitable case come along, you might once again consider utilising her particular skills in some small way. (I realise the thought of including her in anything is likely to bring on another one of your asthma attacks, therefore I shall desist from speculating and simply inform her that nothing appropriate has come up thus far).
I had a visit from Lestrade this morning asking if either of us had seen his sibling. I assumed you’d already told him what transpired vis a vis your-brother-was-a-vampire-but-he’s-alright-now etc, so I naturally asked him if there were any side effects of the vampiric variety. His response left me in no doubt that he didn’t know what the hell I was talking about, which placed me in a rather uncomfortable position. I tried to imagine what you would do and consequently strode about the room and rubbed my chin thoughtfully, pondering some excuse. However, as my account of the adventure has already appeared in The Strand Magazine, I thought it would only make things worse in the end, so I proceeded to tell him the whole story, to which he was, in the Victorian tradition, not amused.
However, to get to my point, Lestrade wasn’t talking about Brinsley. As it turns out, he has two brothers – the other one (the one we don’t know about) is currently employed in some sort of comedic enterprise and, with his partner, masquerades under the name of ‘The Thankyew Twins’. It appears that for some time, the duo have endeavoured to ‘break into’ serious drama, which prompted Lestrade to mention my name to them, thinking I might supply a few tips along the lines of writing a decent script.
I must say I was rather touched and offered to meet up with the ‘Twins’ to discuss the matter further. I did in fact have tea with them this afternoon and spent a pleasant hour being entertained, albeit in a mild way, by their chaotic shenanigans and knock-about humour. It transpires the act has been booked to appear at The Community Hall, Much-Banter-in-the-Woods, near Chichester, and the chaps will be billeted in an old manor house for the duration. Arthur Lestrade, the smaller of the two, wondered if Mary and I might be interested in sharing their accommodation in return for a bit of script writing.
As you know. Mary and I lost our deposit on our previously planned sojourn, so I accepted their kind offer of sharing a holiday-let for a week. They will, of course, be performing every evening, leaving my dear wife and I to our own devices, so we should not find their company too demanding.
We’re catching the early train in the morning so I have enclosed the address of the manor house, should you feel inclined to write.