title page for Pistache Returns

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Epub ISBN: 9781409099277

Version 1.0

Published by Hutchinson 2016

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Copyright © Sebastian Faulks 2016
Illustrations © Giorgos Papadakis 2016

Sebastian Faulks has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First published in Great Britain in 2016 by Hutchinson

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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 9780091931070

Author’s Note

Most of the pieces here were broadcast on the BBC Radio 4 literary quiz programme, The Write Stuff, between 2006 and 2015.

The programme itself ran from 1998 to 2015. It started life, along with several other hastily commissioned quizzes, as a filler for the 1.30 slot when a new controller decreed that the World at One should lose 15 minutes, thus leaving a half-hour gap before The Archers. The brainchild of question master James Walton, The Write Stuff was the only such quiz to survive, going on for 17 years until another decree cut off its legs in 2015.

I would like to thank all those people who have expressed their dismay at this decision; but in truth it was a pretty good run.

Some of the parodies and squibs here, e.g. Knaussgard, Marias, Hollinghurst, were not on Radio 4, but were written for this book. However, like a rock band on tour, I have been wary of playing too much from the new album and have thrown in half a dozen tracks reprised from Pistache 1, which came out ten years ago. I hope they don’t seem too rusty now.

I would like to thank all the listeners who said how much they enjoyed the show; those guests (the majority) who entered into the spirit; the programme producers Sam Michel and Alexandra Smith; and the core team: Beth Chalmers, who did the readings; my inspired opposite number, John Walsh; and James Walton, whose intricate questions and patient chairing made it such fun to take part in.

SF July 2016

MODERN TIMES

JOHN BETJEMAN

reflects on St Paul’s precinct being Occupied

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In the shadow of the pillars, hard by Paternoster Square –

It was hardly Wren’s intention to have vagrants camping there.

Whisp’ring dome and candled choir stall, chancel fabric starts to crack;

Where the deacon dons his surplice there’s a tent from A. C. Black.

Driven out, the poor old deacon; Dean has followed him in pique

All because a bearded camper garbed investments like a freak

Asks the question, ‘Who’ll inherit?’ Clearly it is not the meek.

But . . . bend your ear to Beardie’s message, guaranteed to make you cross.

Banks are free to keep their winnings, you and I must bear their loss.

Shut the schools and fire the nurses, let the library close its door:

Bankers want three million bonus or they’ll take their trade off shore.

Double dip in distant haven, is this how the law was bent:

Barclays on ten billion profit paying tax at one per cent?

Ghosts of Hawksmoor, Wren and Morris, Arts and Crafts, St Pancras high,

Come together in the forecourt, let the heavens hear you cry.

Say to Goldman, Morgan Stanley, Merrill, Lloyds and RBS:

Take your bonus, tax avoidance, greed and filth and fiscal mess;

Take your blackmail, coke and Porsches, let the Bishop help you pack;

Hail a cab for City Airport; go to Frankfurt, don’t come back.

THE BRONTËS

find their various houses in The Good Hotel Guide

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Lowood Manor (formerly Lowood School House)

‘We loved it here. Mr Brocklehurst, the owner, believes that less is more and is as good as his word! Small helpings at dinner and a bracing wooden plank at bed time did me the world of good. I made friends with a sweet little maid called Jane. Sad to discover on a return visit that Mr B had to leave following outbreak of typhus and a few deaths. Health and safety gone mad!’

Miss Helen Burns

Thornfield Manor

‘Mr Rochester, the manager, promised me the Candlelit Dinner Option, but then seemed to have eyes only for the young governess. Very disappointing when it distinctly said NO PETS.’

Miss Blanche Ingram

‘I came here from my home in Belgium for a weekend of prayer and self-flagellation. What a ménage! The landlord has a mistress, two fiancées and a French child of uncertain parentage. Grace, the chambermaid, smells of sherry. Demure Miss Eyre, the governess, was more to my taste, thought the fire precautions are a scandal. The best room – in the attic – was said to be closed for refurbishment, though I distinctly heard someone moaning in it.’

Paul Emmanuel, Brussels

Wuthering Heights

A long-term Guide favourite, though recently some guests have complained of creaky windows and disembodied voices. Others still find the ‘honesty bar’ a considerable draw.

‘Landlord Hindley (no relation to Moors Myra) certainly enjoys a glass! The young stable lad is a moody fellow and the housekeeper Mrs Dean a bit of a chatterbox. Avoid the room with the graffiti and the broken window pane. Since my narrative-framing duties necessitated only a short stay, I hesitate to go into detail, but I would say this: WH is not for the faint-hearted!’

Mr Lockwood

‘Our slumbers were interrupted by a man with a shovel, covered from head to foot in earth. He said he had been digging up the daughter of the house, Catherine by name, for ‘one last go-round’. What can you say? My husband and I find the comforts of our own dear Cranford far superior and we shall not be returning.’

Mrs E. Gaskell

‘Wow, wow, wow! I’ve come ho-o-o-o-o-me!’

Miss K. B., Bexleyheath, London

Haworth Parsonage B & B

‘A charming taste of times gone by,’ writes Anon. ‘High tea at six, hymns round the harmonium at seven and lights out at eight. We loved the ‘eat-all-you-can porridge buffet’ at breakfast and the three silent waitresses who watched us from the corner of the scullery. Rooms a little on the chilly side.’

Male guests not welcome.

Wildfell Hall

A new entry in the Guide this year. ‘Wildfell is tragically overlooked by most weekenders. Landlord Arthur Huntingdon is a bit of a ‘loose cannon’, to be sure, but his bar is ever open. Why not give it a go?’

Anne B