(It's blog takeover day, over at Sally Q's blog. I wasn't going to take part, having barely caught up after my holiday, but my great-great-great-grandfather has other ideas and wants to write something. So, I've given him a crash-course in computers and typing, and am handing my laptop over to him for a while. Not quite sure what he'll write about, but we'll see....)
I have been told many people will read my Diary, if I write it on this Tablet by tapping the buttons marked with the Alphabet. I admit, I do not understand how it all works, but as I press the buttons the letters appear. I'm told too, that others with a similar Tablet will also be able to see my words. It seems an odd way to Communicate, but I suppose things have changed since I died, in 1855.
I have been brought back to Life. A woman who calls herself my great-great-great-Granddaughter has been rummaging about in some kind of Library which she calls the Inter-Net. She seems unduly interested in all the goings-on of my Life. She wants to know who my parents were, my poor Father who died when I was Six, my Mother the daughter of a Baronet. She has traced my Brother Edward's military career (he won a medal at Waterloo, you know). She has discovered that I was in the army in India, employed by the East India Company. She found out about my disastrous marriage to Caroline, and my later Happiness with Jemima. She says that in her time, no one would care that the grandson of a Baronet set up home with a servant-girl. It seems some things at least may have changed for the Better. (Though in my day, my relationships with both Caroline and Jemima were frowned upon by my family. Indeed, I was passed over by my Uncle's Will, and it was my younger brother John who inherited the family Estate, not me. But I am no longer bitter. I knew Love, which John never did.)
The more she discovers about me, the further I come to Life.
She is writing a Novel about me. I am flattered, though I am having to Bare my Soul to her, to fill in what she calls the Blanks, where the Inter-Net cannot tell her what really happened. I am having to relive all the major Episodes of my Life.
Recently she wrote about the time Caroline and I went up to Cissbury Ring, not long before I found I had to marry her. Readers, take pity on me. She wrote about our most intimate Moments, and left us there, in the Bushes, while she went off to Spain on Holiday. It was a long time to keep going. I was very glad to see her Home again, and already I feel heartily tired of Caroline, though we are not yet Married!
She says Caroline has some News for me when next we meet. I think I know what that will be, and am steeling myself to once more do Right by her. If only I could do things differently this time. But my Writer says we must stick to the Known Facts.
Though, would I really do anything different? Not if it meant foregoing my twenty happy Years and thirteen Children with my love, Jemima, no.
I will stop there. My Writer says she needs the Tablet back to begin the next chapter. I would lend her a pen, but she says she writes best with Lap, Top and Wine. Farewell, unknown Readers. I hope to see you again between the covers of a Book.
Good grief, Henry, don't give away the entire plot! And I really must speak to you about the changing fashions in capitalisation.