You know, this was a series I missed the first time round, guess, I was doing other things. Ellis Peters books were truly brought to life with Sir Derek Jacobi’s portrayal of Brother Cadfael for Independent Television in the UK.
Sitting back with a boxed set, each episode just swarms over you, it’s as if you were there back in time, all those years ago, in the backdrop of medieval Shrewsbury.
The research by Author Ellis Peters (her Pen Name) must have been quite meticulous, in having studied in great detail the lifestyle of these Monks, whose Monastery was positioned close to a fortress castle that gave protection to the nearby village folk.
The Television screenplay works at an engaging easy pace woven into a strong style of high drama. It’s not always for the squeamish, me for one! as one of Cadfael’s duties as a Monk is to act as potholigist and apothecary for the many unfortunates of the time. It’s always worth averting your eyes for a moment or two, t…
He was instantly likeable, as with so many of Charles odd arty friends and Charles was not surprised at his friend’s enthusiasm for Esme, his reputation as a painter was widely recognized. The reference to their “Commotion” on arrival was due to Bill Porrit’s acute hearing. It was the very reason the Porrit’s had left London in order that Bill could paint in quiet solitude.
‘Come on inside both of you. We’ve got supper on the go.’ However, just before they could do so, a miniature woman with bright red eyes and a Humming Bird head stepped into the light of the doorway.
‘Margarita!’ Chanted Charles almost at once. ‘It’s lovely to see you again.’ His eyes danced over her. She was diminutively beautiful and unashamedly proud of her looks. He had seen many nude paintings of her over the years and had long admired her perception and gallantry in showing off her body against much public narrow-mindedness.
‘Charles my darling! and you have brought your lovely friend. She …
He looked at Charles with open eye. ‘Beats your town living Charlie!’ he remarked.
It was only the second time Esme had ever heard anyone call Charles: Charlie. In her mind he was a Charles not a Charlie. The surprise on her face was self evident.
Charles picked up on it. ‘It’s ok… Bill’s allowed… After all, he’s the finest painter I know… Apart from Picasso!’
‘You know Picasso!’ Bill burst forward with total percussion. ‘You’ve never said!’
Esme suddenly went into a fit of laughter at the expression on Charles face, then Bill fell in with it and laughed loudly showing his great white teeth once more.
After breakfast Bill insisted he wanted to show Charlie his latest work and other works yet to be given a public airing. ‘Tell me what you think in all honesty.’ he asked.
Esme said she would like to take a long walk along the shore line and enjoy the fresh sea breeze. ‘I want to blow London right out of my mind.’ she had said to Margarita, after they had finished the …