#House Removals Essex

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Tom Hiddleston Characters: How They Would Propose (To You)

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or images. This is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone. As always, please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!)

Characters in this list: Will Ransome, King Henry V, Prince Loki Odinson, Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim, Bill Hazeldine, Coriolanus, Jonathan Pine, Robert Laing, Magnus Martinsson, Oakley, Thomas Sharpe, James Conrad, and Jaguar Villain! Tom Hiddleston.

Also, my sincerest apologies - they all turned into mini-fics.

Will Ransome from The Essex Serpent

Reverend Will would propose to you after a Sunday roast dinner, after your family invited him to your home. You were helping to clear the table with the rest of the ladies in your family when Will coughed to announce his presence. At once, everyone cleared the dining room, leaving you alone with the vicar.

"A word please?" He politely called you by name, his hands clasped in front of him. Will sat you down in one of the empty chairs. Gods how he wanted to reach out and tuck one of your stray hairs behind your ear in that very moment, one of the intimate things that he longed to do with you. Intimate things that would be proper in the eyes of God if you were his lawfully wedded wife. He did not sit down, and gently began talking to you. "For some time, I have been charmed by you. Not just your looks, that is not to say that you are not a lovely woman. You are most lovely, but I have also been charmed by your kindness, your humility, and your…virtue."

Will knelt before you, looking up with the most earnest gaze. "If you will bestow upon me the fortune of being your husband, then in return I shall do everything to keep you safe and comfortable.  I shall speak to your father, and we will be wedded in holy matrimony. You and I shall walk together upon this path of life, and I have no doubt that a virtuous woman like you will aid me in carrying out what the Lord decrees of us. My sweetest, please say that you will marry me."

Henry V from The Hollow Crown

With Henry, there was not much of a proposal to begin with. The marriage between you and the King of England was arranged by your father and his men, along with the king and his men. Still, Henry coaxed your father into having at least one private audience with you before the wedding ceremonies, so that he may properly court you as any suitor would. 

'My dearest lady," Henry began as soon as he was alone with you in his study while your father and his men stood vigil outside. "Lower thy veil, and let me behold your face." He reached forward and removed the hood of your cloak, smiling as he beheld your beauty for the first time. "Cheeks rosier than the flowers that bloom in springtime. Your lips and eyes are so enticing, they call to me like sirens. Yours is a face that I shall never tire of seeing.

I confess to you, my lady, that words are not my greatest strength. Were it so easy that I could simply strap on armor or fire an arrow into a target or vault into my saddle for a wife, I should quickly vault for a wife. Alas, tis not so. For a woman's heart is truly one of the most difficult conquests to embark upon. Nevertheless, tis a conquest that I shall duly pursue if you can deign to love me.

If you can love such a man as me, someone whose words are not their strongest suit and someone whose fidelity to you is true, then take me. Take a soldier, and in taking a soldier, you will take a king." Henry knelt before you and offered you his hand. "Sweetest of all maidens, canst thou love me?"

Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard

"I have called you to discuss a matter of great importance, my lady." Loki enunciated the formal title at the end in an attempt to conceal the butterflies in his stomach. He summoned you to the palace gardens at the house before twilight, when the sky would be decorated with streaks of orange and pink. You walked alongside him through the bushes and the groves of flowers. Loki clasped his hands behind her back, walking as if he ruled every inch of earth on which he stepped. 

He continued, "Yes, tis true that Thor, my brother, is the one whom my father has decreed to ascend the throne of Asgard," The younger prince of Asgard looked forward with a solemn expression while you listened with intrigue. "But he is incompetent." Loki turned to you. "He is idiotic and brash. You know as well as I do that he does not encompass the values of a king.

"Was he not the one who wished to invade Jotunheim alone, my prince?" You stopped in your tracks, just as the sun began setting into the horizon behind you.

"Yes, he was. It was all his idea, my lady." Loki did not bother to include his role in instigating Thor, it would not help him in this moment whatsoever. If he delayed this moment any further, he was convinced the words would be stuck in his throat, forever unable to escape. "You are one of the few people with whom I can share these thoughts, my lady." He sighed, his gaze fixated upon you and your beauty. "It is why I have called you here. In the coming future, I will need to protect Asgard from my brother's foolishness. And for that I should like to have a worthy companion by my side."

Loki conjured a shining dagger with a gold hilt out of thin air and promptly fell to one knee before you. The hilt of the dagger was engraved with the words, 'Min hærr, duonningen av mitt hjerte' (My beloved, Queen of my heart) Still on bended knee, Loki looked up at you with an expression of innocence that you never knew existed within him - wide eyes, baited breath, a meek expression. As if all his life were being wagered on a single thing right now. 

"I wish to make you my wife," Loki declared, his lips trembling. "Should you accept, I will bring my proposal to your family, and then we will be wed with due ceremony. And if you decide otherwise, then I shall…" he swallowed, "I shall respect your choice."

Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim from the Marvel Cinematic Universe

"This looks like something stolen from the Graham Norton Show." You raised an eyebrow when Loki handed you an orange and purple card.

"It's a scavenger hunt." Loki said with a twinkle in his eye. "Every clue leads you to the next one."

"I know how a scavenger hunt works, Loki." You rolled your eyes and flipped over the card. "Was this your idea, or is this some ridiculous team-bonding activity put together by Steve Rogers?"

"No. You see,…I have some errands to do, but at the same time, I have an obligatory excursion with the Lady Valkyrie."

You crossed your arms. "So why the scavenger hunt?"

Loki brightly answered. "Well, it makes the errands all the more fun!"

"Alright, but you owe me, Loki." 

"Good girl." The God of Mischief kissed you not the cheek and disappeared into thin air.

You glanced down and saw that the first card, which told you to pick up six cupcakes ordered under Loki's name. The cupcakes were from a specific café….that just so happened to be the place where you and Loki had your first date, which was set up by a far-too-enthusiastic Thor. The moment you got there, a waiter brought you a "complimentary" cupcake of your favorite flavor…along with another orange and purple card. 

The second card took you to the library, on the pretext of picking up a book that was on hold for Loki. There, the librarian handed you the book - Divine Comedy by Dante - and another book that you recognized. It was Pride and Prejudice, one of the first pieces of "Midgardian literature" that you introduced to Loki, a book that you were all too happy to fangirl over. But inside the book was - yes- another orange and purple card. 

The third card sent you to pick up Loki's dry-cleaning. (Really, Loki? Dry cleaning?) At the dry-cleaners, the person at the register handed you a transparent garment bag containing a black tuxedo with a ruffled white shirt. And then you were given a second garment bag with an emerald green gown embellished with diamonds. You couldn't help but stare a few moments at the pretty, expensive-looking gown. Before the person at the register could hand you another card, you made a mental note to ask Loki about the gown and whom it was for. You guessed it was probably for himself for the times he was feeling fabulous. Actually, Loki also liked to wear absolutely nothing when he was feeling his most fabulous…but that didn't matter right now.

The fourth card took you to the park where Loki confessed his love for you for the first time, on the pretext of picking up Loki's forgotten jacket and buying a bouquet of white flowers.

The fifth card took you across the city just to get a particular bottle of liquor that Loki had liked. Okay, now this guy was having a little too much fun with you right now. 

You were relieved when the sixth card, given to you by the liquor store clerk, led you back to the Avengers compound, to the same room where you began this entire scavenger hunt. You huffed a little, setting the box of cupcakes, the books, the two garment bags, Loki's jacket, the flowers, and liquor gently on a table. "Loki? Loki, where are you?"

Loki stood in the middle of the Avengers' common room, wearing polished gold armor over a black and green leather tunic with long, dark trousers. His hair was combed perfectly in place, and his hands clasped behind his back. He stood surrounded by a few candles and fairy lights hanging against the curtains.

"Okay, I need answers…" You sighed, already tired from running around all afternoon. "Loki, I got your things, just tell me what the gown is for and the…the liquor and the…Are you throwing a party or something?"

"I'm getting married."

"What?!" You gulped, reaching for the nearest couch. "I…what? You're getting married, why didn't you tell me? And…" You felt your head start to spin, preparing yourself for the worst. Whatever happened to all the times he said he loved you? Was he just using you to put together some kind of romantic gesture for someone else, just a tool?! Perhaps this is what you get for letting the God of Mischief into your life. Betrayal. "Well, I hope they make you happy, Loki." You relented, putting your head in your hands.

"She does." 

"Good." You murmured, trying your best not to cry in this moment. That was the last thing you wanted him to see. "Is that gown for her too?"

"Hm-hm. Of course, it'll probably end up on the floor after the engagement party, hehe."

"Loki, I am in no mood for your jokes right now." After a few moments, you looked up. 

"Come on,…have a sense of humor."

"NO!" You yelled, getting up from the couch. "No, I will not have a sense of humor right now! You used me! You used me, and lied to me. You told me to do all of these errands, like picking up dry cleaning, and buying liquor, without telling me that you were going to propose to someone else! You could have at least told me, just so I'd have some kind of closure. But no, you couldn't even think to do that. You told me it was a scavenger hunt, like I wasn't worth knowing the truth.

I...I did this because I care about you, Loki! I care about you like some kind of idiot who actually thought that you might like me the same way that I liked you. That right there, making me like you might just be the worst thing you have ever done me." You took a moment to breathe, and ran your hands through your hair. 

"Ugh…And you made me even pick up her engagement dress! What kind of person makes someone do that?!" You couldn't even think about the words you were spitting out, too busy with the hot tears clouding your vision. 

"The kind of person who knows how good it'll look when you wear it."

"What?!" You were taken aback all of a sudden. 

Loki approached you with a hint of nervousness. "Darling, you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I know I'm not easy to be with, that I drive you mad sometimes, and I make you put up with a lot. I...I should've practiced this more." He laughed under his breath. "Why didn't I?" Blinking, he pushed his hair back before continuing. 

"What I'm trying to say is,...my life has never been the same since I met you. You're the most steadfast ally, a wonderful friend, and best of all, you are the most passionate and loyal person I have ever known. I could never imagine my life without you, and I never want to. That's how much I love you."

The God of Mischief fell to one knee, and held up a small emerald ring with a gold band.

"Will you marry me?"

Bil Hazeldine from Suburban Shootout

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, sweetheart." Bill pulled his father's car into a driveway, and took your hand. "Just close your eyes, alright?"

"Alright…" After a few steps, you could hear Bill opening a door and the sound of a shopkeeper's bell, along with the muted conversations of various patrons. The scents of vanilla and grease reached you almost immediately. 

Bill held you close and whispered that you could open your eyes now.

When you opened your eyes, you laughed a little. "We haven't been here in a while…"

"You remember it?"

"How could I ever forget?" You kissed him on the cheek, and let him find a table for you. 

Bill's proposal began with him taking you to the milkshake diner where the two of you had your first date. After a bit of small talk over a banana split, Bill not-so-discretely excused himself. While you sat at the table with your spoon and checked your phone, Bill made his way to the jukebox with his hands in his jeans' pockets, feeling the small box inside. He'd almost thought about wearing a suit for this occasion, but his mum said it would make you suspicious. And his father suggested hiding the ring inside your ice cream to be more romantic , but Bill was terrified by the idea of you accidentally choking. Yes, keeping the ring with him was a better idea.

Bill took a deep breath and slipped a coin into the jukebox, flipping through the various tracks to find one of the songs you enjoyed. When he found one, he pressed play and called your name. Bill extended his hand out, offering to dance with you. He twirled you, and the two of you swayed in time with the music, smiling all the while. At the end of the song, Bill proudly kissed you on the lips.

He gently said your name, and pushed a bit of hair out of your face. "You're the one I want to dance with to every song…There's just no one like you, no one I could ever dream of that's just as wonderful as you are." Bill reached in his pocket for the small box, and fell to one knee, not caring who might be watching you in the diner. Inside the small box was a 0.3-carat diamond ring with a silver band. "Would you make me the happiest man in the whole world, and marry me?"

Caius Martius Coriolanus from Coriolanus

Coriolanus invited your family to dine with him and his mother one night on the pretext of an important matter concerning two important families of Roman nobility. It was not the first time he'd done such a thing, inviting your family to break bread with him and his mother. He had even visited your father's home before, sharing wine with your father and your brothers from time to time. It was through those meetings that Coriolanus fell more in love with your smile, the way you bit your lip when you were thinking,…and even the way your laugh infected him like a plague. And if there was anything more deadly to him than your simple, unadulterated laughter, then it was your beauty which had him fighting the urge to smile whenever you walked into a room or whenever he heard your voice.

But despite his best efforts, it became quickly aware to everyone in your family how besotted the general was with you. The way his head unintentionally bowed whenever he was in your presence, as if you were the sun and he would go blind if he looked you straight in the eye, never went unnoticed. The fact that you were the only person who could make him laugh, and that the simple mention of your name was enough to make the powerful General and conqueror of Corioles lower his usual barking voice made your family - and anyone else in the general's presence - giggle under their breath.

So when everyone had finished the prima mensa, Coriolanus stood up and raised his cup. "I have called you here tonight, to make a proposition," he declares with the same voice that he would use to speak to the Senate. "An alliance between our families…" The general turned his gaze to you for a moment, and exhaled to calm his racing heart, which only quickened when you looked back up at him. "If you will bestow upon me this honor, I wish to make your daughter…my wife. She is virtuous, and kind,…endowed with a noble background."

He waved for two of the servants of his household to present your mother and father with gifts of imported silk and valuable coins. And for you, the general had his servant gift place a set of golden jewelry - a girdle, five bracelets, and a layered necklace with rubies - in your lap. Underneath the girdle was a small piece of parchment with the words,

"I long to see you wearing these on our wedding night, my lady. Only these."

You turned red, and looked up and the general, politely expressing your thanks. 

"Should you accept," Coriolanus gave you a nod and turned to your family. "We shall make our alliance official in the presence of the gods. Your daughter shall be my wife, and I her husband. I will defend her from harm and protect her, as I have defended Rome time and time again. Your daughter will be cared for, and all I ask for in return, is your fidelity. Pledge to me your allegiance, for I shall need your influence when the time comes for the elections in the Senate.

Instead of a dowry give me your loyalty, and I swear that your priceless gem of a daughter will want for nothing for as long as I live. Do I have your word?"

Oakley from Unrelated

"Let's get married." Oakley off-handedly said while the two of you stood outside, leaning against the wall while he smoked a cigarette. 

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding?"

"No." He took another drag of his cigarette and turned to you with his ocean blue eyes and tousled, dirty blond curls. "We should get married."

"Who are you and what have you done with Oakley?" 

"What, you don't think I'm good enough to marry you?" He protested. 

Shaking your head, you laughed. "No, it's not that…"

"Well, then what is it?" Oakley crossed his arms and furrowed his brow at the sight of you laughing. "We have fun together, we make each other laugh,…we look good together, especially when naked-"

That was enough for you to playfully hit him on the shoulder, causing him to chuckle. He continued, "We like each other. We have this great relationship."

"But are you sure this is what you want?" You asked. "Don't you want to explore, try things? Do stuff before you're tied down?"

"Why would I do that? When there's this…beautiful, funny, smart, and sexy girl right there with me, I'm not even looking at anyone else." Oakley simply countered. "I like what we have, and i don't want to let it go. We can travel, explore the world, and I'll do it all with you." There was no sign of hesitation in his voice, but maybe it was just the cigarette fueling his courage. He came closer to you, and looked dead serious. "I don't want what we have to be just something we try for as long as we can, something we leave up to chance. I want forever with you."

"Forever?"

"Forever." Oakley knelt before you, his eyes going from a vivid cyan to a soft, almost pale bag blue. "I don't have a ring but…" He removed his necklace and presented it to you like an offering at an altar, calling your name. "Marry me."

Jonathan Pine from The Night Manager

Jonathan had been working with MI-6 for almost two years, embarking on various mission for them after he gained acclamation for helping to carry out Operation Limpet. He, along with officer Angela Burr, took down the infamous arms dealer Richard Roper once and for all.

Since then, Jonathan found himself a new home in London and got back in touch with you, the one who stole his heart back when he was still working as a night manager. He didn't know how much he truly missed you until you answered his letter, telling him about the twists and turns your life had taken since your last encounter with Pine. After about three weeks of exchanging handwritten letters - simply because they reminded you both of a simpler time and felt more personal - with Jonathan using a pseudonym to protect you, he invited you to visit London for a holiday. 

And those five days you spent in London were some of the best five days of Jonathan's life. He delighted in your innocence, the way you happily took his arm and strolled through the city, randomly surprising him with kisses. Arm in arm, without a care in the world except for each other, enjoying all that life would have to offer…This is how it should be, Jonathan thought to himself as he gazed at the sparkle in your eyes, the color in your cheeks. He listened as you talked about everything you liked about London, everything that disgusted you, and everything you hoped for in the future, simply taking in the opportunity to just be with you. 

After a few moments, you asked him about what he wanted in the future, and all Jonathan had to say was one word.

"You."

You looked up from your cup of tea. "Me?"

He took a breath. "Yes." Jonathan affectionately said your name, and reached for your hand. "I never grew up in a house with both parents, doting on me." He told you about how his life up until joining MI-6 was an abominable quest for order. How his time in the military and working in the hotel business was part of an aim to find a direction in his life, and how little happiness it truly brought him. How alone he felt whenever his life wasn't being threatened. 

Jonathan sighed, not used to telling so much about himself in a single conversation, laying his heart out on the table to be cut into and devoured. "I promised myself that I would find the one person that I could care deeply for, and love them. I promised myself that I would make friends, find a home…a place to belong. Maybe someday become a parent."

You looked upon him lovingly. "That's beautiful, Jonathan."

He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it. "I want all of those things, and I want them with you." Jonathan declared, quiet enough for the two of you to hear. "These past days with you have been…incredible. When I look at you, I see everything that I have wanted, the life that I want to be living five years from now, ten years from now." 

He continued, "You make me believe in a future that's worth building. The way you smile…, the way you look upon me and everyone with stars in your eyes…I want to be the one who keeps that smile on your face, the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who kisses you good night, and the first one you see in the morning. I want to be the one you come home to every evening, the shoulder you lean on." 

Jonathan stroked the back of your hand with his calloused thumb. "I know it's soon, but if there is anything that I've learned, it's that when you see something worth keeping in your life, you do everything you can not to let her go. You just do it." He looked into your eyes. "Marry me?"

James Conrad from Kong: Skull Island

It was the third time this week James had a nightmare. After thrashing and groaning, fighting an invisible beast, James found it in himself to call you - his neighbor whom he'd been dating for two years - on the telephone. His forehead and his chest were dripping with sweat, his expression one of agony, when you approached his bed. It was obvious that he had been in a lot of pain. 

James wasn't the type of person who wanted to expound upon the terrors he was feeling; he was a man of action who preferred expressing his emotions nonverbally. So, you respected that and simply talked about mundane things, things about civilian life that would temporarily distract James. As you both fell asleep, you made a mental note to remind James setting another appointment with his therapist, the one MONARCH had prescribed for him.

You woke up to an empty bed. It wasn't unusual for James to go out on an early morning walk to be alone with his thoughts. It was one of the things he'd learned from his therapist when he asked about how to be a better sweetheart to you while recovering from his trauma. You washed your face and brushed your teeth with a heavy heart, hoping it wouldn't be too long before you saw James again. 

While you styled your hair, you heard the door unlock. James walked inside, carrying a bag of breakfast pastries. "Good morning." He greeted you in a low, casual voice. 

"Good morning…" You would've asked if he slept well, but given the events of last night, that question made no sense. "I'm sorry I stayed over."

"No need to apologize." James set the pastries down and placed a kettle on the stove. While the water rose to a boil, James unwrapped the two chocolate croissants he bought, and glanced up to find you standing in the kitchen. You walked up to him slowly, and without missing a beat, James gently kissed you with an arm gently holding your waist. He murmured your name again, his breath warm against your lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." 

James gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead before going into his bedroom. "I brought breakfast for us both. Should I make us some eggs?"

"No need…" You watched James open one of his drawers. "Before I forget, do you want to make an appointment with your therapist?"

"Uh, I will." James returned to the kitchen with a small box in his right hand. "Thanks for reminding me."

"What is that?"

James took a deep breath. "Just something to thank you for last night,…and for everything you've done."

"James, you really didn't have to-"

"No. I've been wanting to do this for a year, it's time." 

Your breath caught in your throat as James opened the box to reveal a small, simple sapphire ring. He began, "I should've done this sooner, and I'm a fool for not doing so." James fell to one knee, and you gasped. "Darling,…Over the years I've known you, you have helped me…become a man again. You've remained by my side as I've made attempts to return to civilian life. You've comforted me during my worst hours, and you have given me something worth living for."

"James…"

"You're someone worth fighting for." He laughs a little. "I love you. And if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making you feel loved and caring for you in the ways that you have cared for me.

Darling, will you marry me?"

Magnus Martinsson from Wallander

"Marry me." Magnus groaned with relief when you brought him a plate of eggs, some coffee, and an aspirin. He was laying on your couch, hungover after a night out with you and some of his mates from the police station.

You simply rolled your eyes and laughed a little. "Eat your eggs, you'll feel better with some food inside you."

Magnus kept his eyes on you while you both drank coffee, his headache slowly diminishing. "That a yes?"

"No, Magnus." You flatly said. "You had a lot to drink last night. Just…eat your eggs and finish your coffee. I'm not saying yes to a guy that passed out on my couch after throwing up into the bushes outside."

He grimaced. "I did that?…Sorry." Magnus looked down and shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Whatever, it was just a question, not like I meant it or anything." He pretended to brush off the matter. "You doing anything else today?"

"Tidying the house. You?"

Magnus closed his eyes for a moment to taste the savory flavor of the eggs. "i have a few things to do at the station for Kurt. Won't take long."

You and Magnus finished breakfast in silence before Magnus thanked you for letting him crash on your couch. "I'll see you soon." He said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You almost found it funny, the way he groaned for you to marry him, and chuckled to yourself. For all of his sarcastic quips and his cold exterior, there were times Magnus was an unintentional sweetheart. You'd known him for about seven months, how endearing he was whenever he tried to show off at darts or pool. You thought about the time he brought you soup every night when you had a flu that lasted for a week. And during that one time he showed up late to one of your date nights because of a case, he spent the rest of the evening simply snuggling with you until you fell asleep in each others' arms. It was one of the first times you'd ever seen him smiling so blissfully like a newborn baby.

About a few hours later, you could hear it rain outside, a bolt of thunder rumbling across the sky. While caught up in some trashy television, you heard a knock on the door. 

There was Magnus, standing outside drenched from head to toe. 

"Magnus, what are you-"

"I meant it." He confessed while the raindrops rolled down the sides of his face. "Marry me." He repeated when you asked him what he was talking about. Magnus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small gold ring with three tiny diamonds. "You're the most perfect person in this entire world. And it's not just because you make the best eggs." He said, making you laugh. "You're stunning, even when you've just woken up. You put up with a lot, and…I can't really say what it is you do to me, but I can't help it. I…I…"

"I love you too, you crazy detective!" You finished.

"So, is that a yes?" Magnus asked again, with a big grin on his face as he presented the ring to you. 

Robert Laing from High-Rise

"We need to talk." Robert broke the silence while the two of you shared a candlelit dinner in your flat. 

All traces of a smile disappeared from your face instantly. Usually nothing good ever followed those four words. 

You put your fork down. "What did you want to talk about?"

Robert looked you in the eye. "I moved to this high-rise to be alone, to be away from people. This…a relationship was the last thing that I wanted." He blinked, looking down at his plate for a moment. Then, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. 

You tensed in your seat, preparing for the worst. God, Robert. If he was trying to break up with you, then he just picked the worst time possible. 

The doctor stood up. "I thought I wasn't built for love…So I tried to be alone as much as I could, avoiding every chance to be attached to someone." He swallowed. "And then you came."

You let out a sigh, assuming that Robert was going to say something awful about your relationship. 

"It was like I couldn't even recognize myself anymore. What you did to me…" Robert called your name and walked over to you. "I cannot go a day without hearing your quippy words…, without seeing you when I come home,…without kissing you. It's more than anything I have felt in years." He confessed, his fingers tracing the back of your chair. "If you were to disappear from my life, it would feel like losing everything I've ever known. And…truthfully, the idea of that terrifies me. Maybe I could live without you,…but I don't know if I would be able to call it living.

"So what are you trying to say?" You murmured.

Robert sighed. "Forgive me, I'm not used to having these conversations."

"It's okay."

"You did it again." The doctor remarked. "You're making me fall in love with you, sweetheart." Robert went to the coat closet where he kept his blazer, and pulled a small box from one of the pockets. He returned to your side. "What I'm trying to say is,…that I'm in love with you. I'm in love not only with you, but with the way that you make me…feel things. The way that you remind me that there's a future ahead of us both. A future that can be much more than just dreary parties and squabbles between the upper floors and lower floors. You make me very happy, darling, and I think that you should know that." 

Robert took a deep breath and fell to one knee, next to your chair with the box opened to reveal a silver ring with a diamond heart. "Would you marry me, and make me an even happier man?"

Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

You were sitting on the swing set in the garden of your family estate, enjoying the mid-morning sun and the gentle breeze. Idly moving your legs back and forth, you played with a small cluster of Baby's Breath in your lap. It was nice to be away from the bustling drama and the incessant gossip, and instead be surrounded by fresh air. 

"My lady." You were awoken from your reverie by a smooth, vaguely familiar baritone that belonged to none other than Thomas Sharpe. He was a guest who'd been staying at an inn near your family's home, having joined your family for supper at least ten times in the past two weeks. In your eyes, he seemed mysterious and yet full of stories to tell, always having an anecdote about a place he'd visited or a trick to show you and your siblings. There was something about him that made you drawn to him as soon as he walked into a room, you were unable to articulate what it was. 

"Good morning. What brings you here, Baronet?" 

The baronet gave you a smile, and leaned against a tree, watching you enjoy yourself on the swings. "I was speaking to your father and his, erm, associates about a business venture."

"About clay, right? Mining it?"

Thomas nodded. "Precisely, my lady. And you, have you been enjoying your morning?"

You blushed as he took a step closer. "Yes, Baronet."

"No need for such formal titles now, my lady. We're not at a ball, nor are we at supper. ''Thomas' will do." He gently said. "May I share your company for a while, my lady, if it would not be much of a bother for you?"

You allowed him, giving the Baby's Breath to him as a token of affection. No, not a token of affection. Simply a nice gesture that would hopefully give you a place in Thomas's good books. Maybe he might even ask you for a dance at the next ball.

"Will you be attending the ball this Saturday, Bar- I mean, Thomas?"

He nodded, taking a moment to smell the flowers. "You?"

"I will." 

"And have you chosen a gown, my lady?" Thomas decided to humor you a little. He smiled while you sheepishly described the dress that you had your eye on for that special occasion. "Well, I'm sure you will look divine wearing it, my lady. Do you often spend time here in the gardens, all by yourself."

"Yes. I enjoy the flowers, and the breeze. It's beautiful when the weather is pleasant."

"I can imagine, my lady. It's been a long time since I have relaxed in a garden." Thomas places the Baby's breath in his front pocket. "My lady, there is something I wish to know of you."

You stopped swinging, and asked him what it was.

"I would like to know if you would be interested in marrying me." Thomas knelt by your side, looking up at you with eyes that bore the same hue as a cloudless sky. "For some time, my lady, I have admired your numerous charms from afar. And with each passing day, my affections for you have grown stronger. I find myself thinking about you at the most unpropitious times of day." He sighs, "While I may not be a man of great fame or great brawn or of great wealth, I am a man of dignity." Thomas promised you, despite knowing it was a blatant lie. "I will make sure that you lack nothing as my wife. And to treat you with nothing but the compassion and the love that you deserve. All I ask in return, is that you try to find it in your heart to give me even an iota of your affections.

Would you be willing to do that, my lady?"

Jaguar Villain!Tom Hiddleston

Ever since you moved into the flat Mr. Hiddleston bought for you, the most powerful man in London always had a designated town car sent to pick you up from work or school every day. His favorite chauffeur would show up at the same time every weekday, give you a friendly greeting, and drop you off at your flat. And once you got there, you'd be greeted by a doorman that Mr. Hiddleston personally hired to make sure that you reached safely.

Today, however, the chauffeur did not drop you off at your flat. At least, not right away. "Monsieur Hiddleston had something different in mind for today," he said with a small grin, like he knew something was going on. The chauffeur dropped you off at the nail salon for a manicure paid for by your powerful beau. 

After being pampered by the nail technician for about forty-five minutes, you returned to the town car to find a bag in the backseat with the word 'Harrods' on it. "You went shopping?" You asked the chauffeur while he drove you to your flat.

"Non, it was all Monsieur Hiddleston. He was keeping this dress on hold, and asked me to pick it up for you. He would like you to wear it tonight."

You thanked the chauffeur with a smile. Inside the bag was a beautiful Carolina Herrera gown in your favorite color. And right on cue, your phone buzzed with a text from your beau, asking if you liked his gift. As always, you texted back saying that it was perfect. 

The chauffeur dropped you off at your flat, and asked you to be ready by seven-thirty…but not before taking a good look at your manicured nails and saying an early 'congratulations'.

"Gordon owes me a favor," Mr. Hiddleston bragged a little when he arrived in front of your building at seven-thirty sharp. He opened the door of his favorite black Jaguar, and helped you inside the front passenger seat. "You look stunning tonight, darling."

"You look amazing too," you couldn't help but say. It was the truth after all. "When you said Gordon, did you mean…?"

"We're going to the River Restaurant in the Savoy Hotel, darling." He kept one hand on the steering wheel, placing the other one on your knee. "Hungry?"

"Nervous," you sheepishly said.

"I'm here, nothing can harm you." He turned his eyes to the road. "Your fears are far behind you."

The moment you arrived, the host of the restaurant immediately led you both to one of the outdoor terraces, where there was a table for two set up. Mr. Hiddleston pulled the chair for you before sitting down, and a waiter poured both of you some Dom Pérignon. 

"This is beautiful." You gushed, watching the most powerful man in London raise an invisible toast. You clinked your glass against his. 

 He replied with a dramatic flair.  "Nothing compared to you."

"So…what did you to get this favor?" You leaned in and asked him while the waiter placed a charcuterie board for the two of you to share. "This is a seafood place, charcuterie isn't on the menu."

A twinkle in his cerulean eyes, Mr, Hiddleston fed you a piece of cheese. "That's confidential, darling. Just enjoy the night."

"I will."

The two of you made small talk about your day, and about Mr. Hiddleston's upcoming business trip to Paris. You would be going with him of course, Mr. Hiddleston would make sure of that. The waiter refilled your champagne, and your beau discretely gave him a twenty-pound note, whispering that it was time for the main course.

The waiter took about fifteen minutes to bring your elegantly-arranged entrees out onto the terrace. And as he came out, you could hear an orchestra from inside the hotel begin to play "All I Ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera.

"Enjoying yourself?" Mr. Hiddleston leaned forward with a smirk as he noticed you listening to the music.

You admitted this was one of the songs you enjoyed, and said it reminded you of the first time you'd ever heard of the musical. How much you wanted to be Christine in that moment, serenaded with the promise of a life with no more darkness.

"Well there's one more thing I have for you tonight, darling." With a smirk, Mr. Hiddleston reached into the pocket of his blazer, retrieving a small box labeled 'Harry Winston'. He slowly got out of his chair and made his way towards you. 

You gasped, covering your mouth almost immediately. You swore you could feel your heart stop just for a moment when his eyes met yours. It all made sense now: the manicure, the accidental 'congratulations', the gown,…

 "Oh my god…"

Mr. Hiddleston fell to one knee and opened the box, which contained a 1-carat diamond ring with a platinum band. "Love me. It's all I ask of you."

Tag list: @thatdummy-girl @icytrickster17  @mischievoushiddleston,@lokischambermaid , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisgoodgirl  , @lokisninerealms  @jennyggggrrr  ,, @tom-hiddleston-imagines  , @lokiismineforever  @smolvenger  @winterfrostlovetriangle  , @the-haven-of-fiction  , @turniptitaness   @cakesandtom  ,@sallymagnoliaposts  @leahs-reading-nook  @holdmytesseract  @muddyorbsblr @evelyn-kingsley @anukulee @acidcasualties @lotsoflokilove23 @caffiend-queen

[ukrfeminism]

5 minute read

TW: descriptions of sexual violence from the start

“For two hours he tortured me, his hands were everywhere. I thought rape was inevitable, I wondered whether I’d get out alive. We were in an empty property on a quiet cul-de-sac and he’d completely overpowered me.” These are the words of a female estate agent who was attacked by the seller of a property she had gone to value in Essex.

Hers is not a lone voice. Women in the property industry, who frequently visit empty homes alone — either to value them for sellers or to show prospective buyers around — are speaking out about the dangers.

Now, 30 years after the estate agent Suzy Lamplugh was declared dead (seven years after going missing on a viewing in Fulham, west London, with a man who called himself “Mr Kipper”) and 31 years after the Birmingham estate agent Stephanie Slater was kidnapped during a house viewing, women are saying it still isn’t safe to do their job.

Only 22 per cent of estate agents and letting agents, male and female, feel safe when on viewings, while 82 per cent say estate agent safety isn’t taken seriously enough — according to a survey of 150 agents across the country Allan Fuller an estate agent in Putney, southwest London.

The case of the estate agent in Essex, who spoke anonymously to The Times, was dropped by the Crown Prosecution Service last year, two days before coming to court. “I am furious, he had the money to hire a big shot lawyer. I feel let down,” she says. “It has been absolutely horrendous. It had a massive effect on my whole life: my relationship of 15 years broke down and I ended up on antidepressants and having panic attacks every time I went on a valuation.”

Although she has now moved agencies, she continues to work as an estate agent. “I thought, if I give up my job, he has won again — and I love my job.” However, she insists her female colleagues carry rape alarms, check in before and after house visits, and follow strict protocols about leaving doors open in properties and never getting into cars with sellers or potential buyers.

Fuller says: “There is a common misperception in the industry that ‘it won’t happen to me’.”

The responses to Fuller’s survey show that it does happen. One female respondent who works in the West Midlands wrote: “I recently valued a property and met with a man accused of domestic violence and I have never felt so uncomfortable in my life. He proceeded to show me an over-stair cupboard and said that there was ‘enough space for three dead bodies’. I left quickly after that.”

Other comments included:

“During a repossession the owner climbed into the loft and was threatening with a knife. Police had to taser him twice to safely remove him.”

“Carrying out a market appraisal with a gentleman who revealed he was due in court the next day to be charged with rape.”

“I believed a viewer was carrying a knife on a viewing, they were trying to get me into a certain room. The vibe wasn’t good, so I managed to email my office an SOS. Two members of staff came and pretended to be the next viewers.”

And: “I was covering a valuation and the person locked me in without me knowing and as I went to leave he went to hug me. I had to duck under his arm and unlatch the door quickly to get out.”

It’s not just on visits that workers are vulnerable, though. One estate agent told The Times how she was assaulted by a prospective buyer while working alone in an office in Oxford on a dark December evening. After being cornered, by the photocopier, she says she managed to “thump him in the windpipe” and run for help. He was arrested and charged. She now insists all her staff carry rape alarms and follow strict safety rules in and out of the office.

Fuller says he makes staff safety a priority too, sending his staff on self-defence courses — “one tip I picked up was if a man is making an unwanted move on a woman she should look as if she’s about to be sick, they soon back off” — issuing rape alarms, fitting CCTV and insisting that prospective buyers and sellers visit the office, verify their name and address, and are captured on camera before going on viewings.

Claire Lewis, 65, was an estate agent in Putney at the time Lamplugh went missing. She says: “Everyone was so shocked, we’d been getting into cars with prospective clients and going on viewings with men. It never occurred to us that anything could happen. That all changed and we suddenly became much more aware.”

However, she now worries for her daughter, Charlotte Dale, 34, a part-time estate agent in southwest London. “Generally things seem more dangerous for women even though they have mobile phones. Whereas in the past men acted in isolation — now they receive validation and encouragement on the internet,” Lewis says.

The estate agent from Essex, who was tortured for two hours, says she wants to see a national campaign to draw attention to the dangers: “Some estate agents seem to care more about protecting assets, with money laundering checks etc, than they do about protecting their staff. This has to change.”

[ltwilliammowett]

Mary Anne Talbot - a female Soldier and Sailor

Mary Anne Talbot is one of the women who have the adventure of serving at sea disguised as a male sailor. She was born in London on 2 February 1778, the illegitimate daughter of William Talbot, 1st Earl Talbot. Her mother died at birth, her presumed father when she was four years old. She was brought up by a wet nurse at Worthen in Shropshire until she was five, after which she attended a private boarding school in Chester, run by a Mrs Tapperly, until she was 14. The only relative she knew was an elder sister, an Hon. Miss Dyer, who also died quite young in the birth of her child in 1791. She enlightened Mary Anne about her presumed parentage before her death and left her a handsome fortune of £30,000 sterling. From this fortune Mary Anne could have had an annual income of 1500 pounds, but her sister's chosen guardian, a Mr. Sucker, did not provide for her further education, but gave her to Essex Bowen, a captain in the 82nd Regiment of Foot.

Mary Anne Talbot, by G. Scott, after James Green, published 1804 (x)

The latter took her to London, where he made her his not-so-voluntary mistress in 1792. But already in the autumn of 1792 he was to go to Flanders and simply took her with him. To this end, he passed her off as an errand boy, who took her to St. Domingo as John Taylor. From there she went to Flanders, where she was now listed as Drummer Boy. As such she took part in the capture of Valenciennes on 28 July 1793, where Captain Essex was killed. She now deserted the regiment and made her way through Luxembourg to the Rhine, until in September 1793, out of necessity, she signed on as a cabin boy to the captain of a French lugger called Le Sage. The lugger, according to her account, had been captured by Lord Howe in the Queen Charlotte, and "Taylor" (as she still called herself) was assigned to HMS Brunswick 74 guns under Captain John Harvey (1740-1794) as a powder monkey, in which capacity she took part in the great victory of 1 June 1794, but was severely wounded by a grape shot that shattered her left ankle.

Captain Essex with his footboy John Talbot (x)

She spent four months at Haslar Royal Naval Hospital in Gosport. She then became a midshipman on the Bomb Vessel Vesuvius. However, this was captured off Normandy by two French privateers. As a prisoner, Taylor remained in Dunkirk for 18th months. After her release, she signed on with the American ship Ariel under Captain John Field, sailing to New York in August 1796. In November she returned to London on the Ariel. There she was picked up by a press gang in Wapping. In order not to have to re-enter the Royal Navy, she revealed her true gender, whereupon she was discharged. She then haunted the Navy's pay office for some time, and various donations were collected for her. But she was intemperate and spent her money frivolously. The Duke and Duchess of York and the Duchess of Devonshire, it is said, interceded for her.

Mary Anne Talbot resisting a Press Gang, by John Chapman (x)

After a series of employments including a gig as a jeweller's assistant or a performance in a small theatre in Tottenham Court Road in the Babes in the Wood, and a stay in Newgate from which she was rescued by the Society for the Relief of Persons confined for small Debts, her misfortunes forced her to take refuge as a domestic servant in the house of the publisher Robert S. Kirby in St. Paul's Churchyard, who recorded her adventures in the second volume of his Wonderful Museum, 1804 and continued her story in  The Life and Surprising Adventures of Mary Anne Talbot, 1809. After three years' service, a general deterioration, caused in part by the wounds and privations she had suffered, rendered her unable to work regularly, and she was removed to the house of an acquaintance in Shropshire at the end of 1807. There she remained for some weeks, and died on 4 February 1808, aged 30.

Mary Anne Talbot, by G. Scott, after James Green, published 1804 (x)

Perhaps some of you have noticed that there are certain similarities to Hannah Snell. And in fact, her story is very much in doubt. Because there are great inconsistencies with the times and the ships that she had given in her biography. Because there is no Talbot on the ships listed and there was no Talbot on the Vesuvius at the time it was captured, and the capture itself is also questionable because the ship was not off Normandy at that time but in the West Indies. Whether she just mixed things up here or whether they were chosen to spice up her story is questionable, and it cannot be ruled out that this story was a product of fantasy.

[georgefairbrother]

On 18th September 1972, BBC News reported that the first 193 Ugandan refugees, fleeing persecution by the country’s military dictatorship, had arrived at Stansted Airport, Essex. Over half of the arrivals had British passports, and housing and immediate needs would be overseen by the Ugandan Resettlement Board.

Uganda’s Asian community, numbering around 55 000, many of whom ran family businesses and small enterprise, were ordered in August 1972 to leave the country within 90 days by President Idi Amin. Amin had publicly denounced Ugandan Asians as ‘bloodsuckers’, threatening that any who had not left by the arbitrary deadline of November 8th would be interned in military detention camps.

Many of the initial flight of refugees had endured frightening experiences prior to their departure from Uganda, at the hands of Amin’s troops. "On the way to the airport the coach was stopped by troops seven times, and we were all held at gun point," one refugee told reporters. Another stated that he had been robbed of personal valuables and Ugandan currency on the way to Entebbe airport.

News reports at the time cited some opposition within the UK over the acceptance of the Ugandan Asians. The Leicester local authority mounted a newspaper campaign urging refugees not to come to their region seeking jobs and housing. The BBC asserted that, in hindsight, the resettlement programme was seen as ‘a success story for British Immigration’.

The loss of the hardworking and successful Ugandan Asian community devastated Uganda’s agriculture, manufacturing and commerce. Idi Amin was deposed in 1979 and died in Jeddah in 2003, having been responsible for the deaths of as many as 300 000 Ugandan civilians during his reign of terror as President. In 1991, Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni invited the expelled community to return home to help rebuild the economy.

The Wilson Labour government also had to grapple with a refugee crisis from a former African colony.

In February 1968, BBC news reported;

"…Another 96 Indians and Pakistanis from Kenya have arrived in Britain, the latest in a growing exodus of Kenyan Asians fleeing from laws which prevent them making a living…"

Many Asian people living in Kenya had not taken up Kenyan citizenship following the country’s independence from Britain in 1963, but possessed British passports. Under Kenya’s Africanisation policy, non-citizens required work permits, and were being removed from employment in favour of Kenyan nationals. There was growing public demand for laws to prevent non-citizens from owning businesses or even operating as street and market traders. As a result, British passport holders were leaving Kenya at the rate of 1000 per month, leaving a huge deficit in skills and experience within the business community and civil service.

Fearing a backlash over the large numbers of Asian immigrants, Home Secretary, and future Prime Minister, James Callaghan, rushed through the Commonwealth Immigration Act, which made it a requirement that prospective immigrants must have a 'close connection' with Britain.

This led to disagreement in Cabinet, with Secretary of State for Commonwealth Affairs, George Thomson (1921-2008) arguing;

"…To pass such legislation would be wrong in principle, clearly discrimination on the grounds of colour, and contrary to everything we stand for…"

In 1971, the Heath government made further legislative changes that would mean that (some) immigrants from Commonwealth countries would be treated no more favourably than those from the rest of the world, and that tightened restrictions on those who stayed by linking work permits to a specific job and location, requiring registration with police, and reapplication to stay in Britain each 12 months.

The Patrial Right of Abode lifted all restrictions on those immigrants with a direct ancestral connection with Britain.

Home Secretary Reginald Maudling (later famous for being smacked in the face by Irish MP Bernadette Devlin, and for having to resign over a corruption scandal linked with disgraced property developer John Poulson) denied that this was, in effect, a 'colour bar', telling the BBC;

"…Of course they are more likely to be white because we have on the whole more whites than coloureds in this country, but there is no colour bar involved…"

Unsurprisingly, not everyone was convinced.

Vishna Sharma, Executive Secretary of the Joint Council for the Welfare of Immigrants, described the bill to BBC News as, "basically racially discriminatory, repressive and divisive," and added, "It will create divisions amongst the Commonwealth citizens already living in this country on patrial and non-patrial basis. It will create day-to-day bureaucracy and interference on people living in this country. It will create more hardship for people wanting to enter into this country."

(Source; BBC reporting and history.com. Photo Credits; BBC News)

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Andrew Doyle

Published: Feb 26, 2024

[ Credit: Miriam Elia ]

Far away in the land of Sylvania, some woodland creatures have gathered to celebrate Pride. There’s a cross-dressing fox, a PVC-clad boar, a rabbit in full drag on a float. Rainbow flags and bunting abound. But just out of sight, perched above an ice-cream kiosk, are three sinister little figures in black face masks. They could be hedgehogs. They could be squirrels. One of them has a machine gun.

Isis in Sylvania was the work of the satirist Miriam Elia, a set of tableaux which was meant to be shown at the Passion for Freedom art exhibition at the Mall Galleries in London in 2015. The pieces were withdrawn after police said they might cause offence. That the gallery capitulated so easily would suggest that its self-declared “passion for freedom” was limited.

Elia’s display brilliantly lampooned our infantile response to the growing threat of Islamic terrorism, and it seems more relevant today than ever. After the police had sent emails to the gallery declaring that Isis in Sylvania was “not art” and that “all mentions of it should be removed from the promotional materials, social media etc”, Elia responded:

“The decision to censor shows that our establishment is more threatened by satire, clarity and truth than by young men willing to kill, rape and pillage in the name of Islam. Apparently my images were ‘potentially inflammatory’ to terrorists. This is the equivalent of saying an anti-Nazi cartoon in the late 1930s was offensive… to Nazis. Those who justify and protect barbaric totalitarianism, in whichever form, are on the fast track to becoming totalitarian themselves.”

The reaction of the police, of course, exemplified the very problem that Elia had been satirising in the first place.

It should be clear to everyone by now that kowtowing to the wishes of terrorists only encourages them. Last week Lindsay Hoyle, speaker of the House of Commons, was pressurised into overriding parliamentary convention because of an apparent risk to security. He spoke of “absolutely frightening” threats directed at MPs because of their reluctance to call for a ceasefire in Gaza. He also alluded to the murder of MP David Amess by an ISIS sympathiser. “I never want to go through a situation where I find a friend from any side has been murdered,” he said, “I also don’t want another attack on this House.” The word “Islamist” was not mentioned, as though not talking about the problem might make it disappear.

Hoyle is correct that the threat of violence is very real. Nobody would seek to downplay the murder of David Amess at his constituency surgery in Essex in 2021, or the beheading of schoolteacher Samuel Paty in Paris in 2020, or the massacre at the offices of satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo in 2015. But our tendency to forget these atrocities, and move on as if nothing has happened, is chilling. Many of our politicians are too afraid to address the issues out of fear of being branded “islamophobic”, an absurd neologism often deployed to conflate anti-Muslim hatred with legitimate criticism of Islam.

How much reflection was there after the Manchester Arena bombing in May 2017 in which children and teenagers were slain? After the killing of Amess there was endless discussion in parliament about how we needed to crack down on social media, as though the radical Islamist responsible was motivated by online trolling rather than the creed of a medieval death-cult. We are like the woodland animals in another of Elia’s scenes, blissfully enjoying a picnic while armed and masked assailants appear on the horizon.

[ Credit: Miriam Elia ]

So while I have sympathy for Hoyle’s very human reaction to the spectre of violence, it is clear that the failure of politicians to accurately diagnose the problem is only making matters worse. Those few brave individuals who are prepared to speak out are putting themselves in danger. But with a collective effort the risk could be spread and at least become tolerable. After the Charlie Hebdo atrocity, media outlets refused to show the offending cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed, but if all of them had done so simultaneously, the threat could have been diluted.

If the speaker of the House of Commons is prepared to modify parliamentary procedures due to threats from far-left cranks and radical islamists, where does this leave our democracy? It is hardly surprising that increasingly we are seeing commentators claiming that the values of liberalism cannot be sustained against this particular brand of authoritarianism. They suggest that liberals are too weak to tackle those who do not share their commitment to individual freedom.

It is true that too often exemptions have been made out of fear of causing offence to religious minorities. Police in the north of England failed to enforce the law against predominately Pakistani grooming gangs for fear of being branded “racist”. The inquiry into the Manchester Arena bombing found that security guards held back from intercepting the killer for similar reasons. Sharia courts have been operating in the United Kingdom for decades and, although their rulings have no legal standing, they do hold authority within Muslim communities. And we have seen how police have overlooked some of the worst behaviour at the now regular pro-Palestine marches in London.

But this is not a weakness at the heart of liberalism; it is the failure to properly follow its principles. All branches of liberal thought – from the conservative liberalism of Friedrich Hayek to the social liberalism of John Rawls – share an understanding that the rule of law is paramount. Individual autonomy cannot be preserved if the state is unable to maintain the peace and impartially resolve the natural conflicts of human existence.

A well-intentioned commitment to multiculturalism has enabled parallel societies to flourish within the United Kingdom. In turn, this has granted authority to the most reactionary elements within religious communities. Sharia law may be an ambition for ultra-conservative theocrats, but many female and gay Muslims will not find it such an appealing prospect. We need to stop appeasing these minorities within minorities, small groups of extremists that by no means represent the average British Muslim. And this means that our parliamentarians must retain their courage, even in the face of violent threats.

More than anything, we need to be able to talk about this crisis with honesty and candour. However comforting it might be in the short term, our political class cannot go on living in their Sylvanian fantasy, wilfully oblivious to the masked elephant in the room. This denialism is a form of procrastination, putting off the inevitable for another day. The values of our liberal democracy and our hard-won rights are under threat. It’s time to grow up. 

A limited edition book of all the images in Miriam Elia’s “Isis in Sylvania” series is available to buy here. A signed limited edition print of the picnic scene is available here.

==

We have to stop being panicked when people claim to be offended.

[queenmarytudor]

Mary I's Fight For The Throne

8th July - Mary announces the King's death to her household

Mary takes counsel with her advisors, and following that has her whole household summoned to her presence. She then tells them "of the death of her brother Edward VI; the right to the Crown of England had therefore descended to her by divine and by human law after her brother's death, through God's high providence, and she was most anxious to inaugurate her reign with the aid of her most faithful servants, as partners in her fortunes. Roused by their mistress's words, everyone, both the gently-born and the humbler servants, cheered her to the rafters and hailed and proclaimed their dearest princess Mary as queen of England." 1.

She starts the first of many letters to rouse her supporters, writing to knights Sir George Somerset, Sir William Drury, Sir William Waldegrave and Justice of the Peace Clement Higham "signifying unto them the king’s death, and thereby her right to the crown, requiring them to obey no commandment to be issued out upon any pretence or gloss of the deceased king’s authority, being bound now to be true liegeman to her own, and lastly charging them, in all haste possible, to prepare and put themselves in order to repair to her at Kenninghall, where at their coming, they should know further of her pleasure." 2

Mary's actions have not gone unnoticed.

The Privy Council, after finding out of her departure, "despatched to the officers in all parts of the kingdom" 3 the following letter:

"So it is that the lady Mary, not many days past, removed from [Beaulieu] in Essex to her house of Hunsdon in Hertfordshire, the cause whereof, although we knew not, we rather think it likely that her grace would have seen his majesty; but now upon Tuesday last she hath suddenly, without knowledge given given either to us here or to the country there and without any cause in the world by us to her given, taken her journey from Hunsdon towards Norfolk, making her first day's journey to one Mr Huddlestone's house in Cambridgeshire, being the same too far for her any of her accustomed journeys [...] before this her sudden departure, she had caused great provisions to be made in the country about Hunsdon, for keeping of her household there a long time [...] and although some of hers note her removing to be for the sickness of her servants, yet we see no likelihood of truth therein." 4

In fear and anger at her having slipped away, they reveal they knew Mary had secretly been sending her comptroller Robert Rochester to the Imperial ambassador, stating "it is not unknown to us but some near about the Lady Mary have very lately in the night seasons had privy conferences with the Emperor's ambassador here." 5

They urge them to "use the best means you may in those parts under your charge to keep the people of the country in quiet and obedience, and to repress all manner of slanderous brutes of the King’s majestys death (from the which we doubt not, but God will long preserve His Majesty)." 6

Meanwhile...

The Privy Council send a secretary to the Imperial ambassadors, letting them know King Edward is unable to grant them an audience "as his indisposition [keeps] him most of the time in bed." 7

The Lord Mayor of London is summoned to court with aldermen and merchant adventurers, where the Council "secretly declared the death of king Edward, and also how he did ordain for the succession of the Crown by his letters patents, to the which they were sworn, and charged to keep it secret." 8

Sources:

1. Vita Mariae Angliae Reginae of Robert Wingfield

2. Ecclesiastical Memorials, John Strype

3. Spanish State Papers, 10th July 1553

4. Collection of State Papers relating to Affairs In the Reigns of King Henry VIII, King Edward VI, Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth From the year 1542 to 1570

5. Collection of State Papers relating to Affairs In the Reigns of King Henry VIII, King Edward VI, Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth From the year 1542 to 1570

6. Collection of State Papers relating to Affairs In the Reigns of King Henry VIII, King Edward VI, Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth From the year 1542 to 1570

7. Spanish State Papers, 10th July 1553

8. Chronicle of Queen Jane and Queen Mary

[timemachine16606]

Fuel Leak Snowball...

Firstly apologies for it being almost 38 months since my last post. Nothing happened with 16606 for the majority of that time, what with the pandemic, and then as lockdowns started to lift we started a building project at home, so the D went for a little holiday to a storage facility on a farm in deepest Essex. I had her back in late August 2022, got it re-taxed and MOT'd with only a few outings around the block until very recently.

Trust the D to ruin a lovely day

It was a lovely sunny Sunday on 30th September when I decided to take 16606 for a short spin following some in and out TLC. After parking up on the drive something drew me to look under the car where I found a liquid dripping from the mid section of the car.

Upon closer inspection is stank of fuel.

Side-note: Readers of this blog will know I've been on a learning journey with this car and as each issue arises I try to learn what needs to be done and then dive in, admit defeat and speak nicely to members of the DeLorean Eurotec club for assistance (who are always beyond fantastic and generous with their time), or go down the professional garage route (this is the last resort, not because I don't want to pay professional prices but because they tend to have never encountered a DeLorean, let alone a car of some 40 years old, and are actually not often able to do a "professional" job).

After taking advice from members of the DeLorean Eurotec club I tentatively started the engine and drove the D back into the garage in the knowledge that I should check the fuel pump. This filled me with dread since this was an area of the car I had no previous experience of and the thought of messing with the pump, fuel tank and fuel in general required me to pluck up courage and just go for it.

The following documents the journey I went on that comprised getting the job done over two attempts and almost giving in and asking a new business created by a club member to do the job in-between.

I got the car back into the garage and emptied my mandatory travel tools and parts out in order to access the fuel tank.

Inside the "Frunk" of the DeLorean, under the mat is this sunken area where the original spare tyre resides. I took this out, the first time I'd touched it since getting the car back following restoration in 2016. Once set aside I undid the screws to the access panel as seen above. This would expose the fuel tank and associated hoses and equipment.

For reference the photo above shows, beneath the access panel, the fuel feed and return hoses coming from the fuel pump seal that covers the pump boot (that houses the pump). The boot is set into the tank, the black area beneath and surrounding the boot. On the left the fuel hoses attach to the pipes that flow eventually to the engine at the rear of the car.

With the access panel removed I could smell the over-powering odour of fuel (and odour but one of those strangely nice ones...). Mild panic set in when I saw the remnants of spilt fuel. I could see that the boot seal was a strange shape and not clamped down by the jubilee clip. I lifted the accessible part of the seal and could see the pump covered in fuel residue. Wondering how this had happened, and how it had apparently seeped over and out onto the top of the fuel tank, I decided to start the car to get the pump working. The following video is what I was confronted with.

The shakiness of the above video gives some idea of the "holy crap" moment I was experiencing. At this same time I had also noticed that the fuel feed and return lines were also deteriorating, showing signs of cracking all along the outside.

I had to figure out what to do next, so after switching the engine off, the fuel in the boot drained back into the tank and I stepped away from the offending car and did some research and messaging with the DeLorean Eurotec club over the course of the next week.

I watched some videos on YouTube to learn how the fuel pump assembly works and fits together so I could become familiar with this journey into the unknown. I specifically got benefit from the following two,

The first part of this video showing the extraction of the pump and it's assembly:

The following for learning how the fuel feed and return hoses attach.

I realised I needed to buy some parts so got on to DeLoreanGo.com and ordered,

SKU 106979 Fuel Hose - return and feed line

SKU 101391PU Polyurethane Fuel Pump Boot

SKU 106684PU Polyurethane Fuel Pump Cover Seal

SKU SP10830 W1 Steel Spring Clip for Fuel Pump Boot

SKU SP10356 Stainless Hose Clamp (lower fuel pump boot)

SKU 10349 Stainless Hose Clamp

Needless to say the turnaround at DeLoreanGo.com was amazingly fast and they arrived in a couple of days.

Next weekend

On 8th October I rolled the car out of the garage to start work. I was going to

Replace the feed and return fuel lines

Replace the fuel pump boot

Fit the W1 steel spring clip that was missing

Replace the fuel pump boot cover seal

I made sure I had noted what goes where. I took the following photos to remind me which hose was the feed and the return, and which colour electrical connects went to positive and negative terminals

The feed is the hose from the banjo to right of the two fuel pipes, and the return runs from the left.

The black wire is the negative whilst the red is the positive.

Whilst the boot was in situ, the pump was surprisingly moveable which I'm not sure it should have been. This made it difficult to pull the fuel hoses off and could have been a possible reason for why the boot was filling with fuel.

I undid the hose clamps to the fuel hoses and with plenty of tissue at the ready, in case of spills, I manipulated them until free at both ends.

So far so good. Next it was time to fit the new hoses, boot and seal and to reconnect the wires to the terminals. Easier said than done!

These were the parts purchased from DeLoreanGo.com. I had already transferred the return hose and support ring to the new boot.

Whilst removing the old hoses and attaching the new ones required a lot of manipulation and strength, I found this task to be less troublesome than the YouTube videos had implied.

The first connections were made to the pipes. It was as I was getting ready to attach them to the pump that I spotted how cracked the fuel pick up hose was.

No sooner had I noticed the state of this pick up hose, then as I picked it up to start attaching the fuel hoses it completely disintegrated and broke off.

With an almost full tank of fuel I had to find a cord to tie and secure the pick up hose to stop it falling back in.

It was clear that I would then need to get the pick up hose replaced, but that then also meant dealing with the baffle and associated parts, plus I had a virtually full tank of fuel. I realised this was as far as I was going to get for the day, and that I should pack away and spend some time thinking about how to tackle the new problem. I couldn't push the car back in to the garage due to the slope of my driveway, so I took a Stanley Knife to the pick up hose to make the end level and then reattached it to the pump. I then attempted to reconnect everything else to enable me to drive the car back in to the garage.

When trying to reconnect the wires to the terminals I could not get the rubber boots back over the connectors, they had turned from malleable to solid rubber with no give. This concerned me greatly since I was unsure what the consequence might be if fuel filled the boot once more when moving the car and these terminals were flooded. I took more advice from the Eurotec club and watched some more YouTube that some cars didn't even have rubber boots and also experienced similar flooding to me. So I risked it. Fortunately nothing happened and I was able to drive the car back into the garage.

Over the next day or two I searched more videos on YouTube and found the following one particularly useful to explain to me what it takes to replace the fuel pick up hose. It's a great tutorial.

Watching this also made me realise that my pump/tank had no return hose to return fuel back to the baffle area as well as no Baffle Seal. After watching I also felt confident that this was a job I could do if it were not for the almost full tank of fuel. My ability to do this job flip-flopped over the course of the next week. What was clear to me however was that I would not have this fixed before the following weekend, which was the DeLorean Eurotec October Meeting, 100 miles north in King's Lynn, Norfolk.

Having replayed the above video a few times I then generated a list of the parts I would need. I ordered the following from DeLoreanGo.com,

SKU 106287 Fuel Pickup Hose

SKU 106287A Stainless Fuel Pickup Hose Reinforcement Spring

SKU 106318 Pickup Pipe Baffle Seal

SKU 106286 Viton Lower Return Fuel Hose

SKU SP10573 Stainless Hose Clamp (fuel return pipe)

SKU SP110085 Fuel Pump Terminal Connectors

In true DeLoreanGo.com form these parts then arrived less than 24 hours after ordering with just the regular free shipping option selected.

DeLorean Eurotec October Meet Weekend

That next weekend I attended the Eurotec meet and garnered opinions about how to tackle the fuel pick up hose job. Opinions ranged from "dive in despite the full tank of fuel, it'll be fiddly, messy and your arms might sting somewhat" to "you must drain the tank before starting, then it will be fiddly". I also learnt that weekend how it seemed many owners were also experiencing fuel pump related issues. This is when I came to learn of one owner who had set up his own business for working on DeLorean's. I tentatively arranged for him to come and do mine next time he was in the area, which would have been a few weeks later, however during the journey home I changed my mind.

Close to home I decided to stop to charge my daily driver at Tesla Tottenham. Whilst charging I grabbed myself a tea and biscuits at the showroom. I sat in the lounge and started googling options for pumping out fuel from tanks. It was then I found the following product from Euro Car Parts, and fortuitously there was a branch, open across the road.

I was a little unsure at first but the reviews convinced me, and at £8.99, it wouldn't be a huge loss if it turned out not to be appropriate.

I purchased said pump and over the course of the next week I managed to find sufficient fuel cans/containers for up to 50 litres.

The Weekend after that

Okay, so it's now this recent weekend, the kids are away at Scout camp, it's peaceful at home so now is the time to do this!

I decided to leave the car in the garage this time due to constant rain so there wouldn't be much room around the side of the car to work.

After preparing the area I proceeded to pump the fuel out from the tank. This turned out to be amazingly simple with the new pump, so much so that I almost forgot to film the process. The following shows almost the final fuel being pumped out. The pump can do about 22 litres per minute, which I reckon we achieved, however the clip below is a little slower as the final fuel is trickier to pick up, but it did the job.

In the end I calculated I had taken approximately 46 litres of fuel out of the tank.

Following the pumping out I had a peek into the tank with my phone camera.

Whilst getting ready for pumping out the fuel I of course had to remove the boot and pump. When doing this I could see that the current pick up hose had in fact disintegrated further, unattached to the pump, lying in the tank. I felt relief that I had not attempted to drive up to the previous weekends' DeLorean Eurotec meeting, since once the fuel level would have dropped below the bottom of the pump, it would not have been able to draw any more fuel and I would have been stranded.

The following piece of pick up hose is all that was left attached to the pump, surrounded by the hose clamp.

I also removed the electrical connections from the pump terminals which I would later trim to attach new connectors and boots. Those boots were rock solid!

I set the pump and boot assembly to one side and then began tackling removal of the baffle in order to fit the new pick up hose, seal and return line.

The only minor issue I faced in removing the baffle was removing the Fuel Tank Baffle Outer Retainer Spring, DGo SKU 108683. The YouTube video showed it being attached over the top of the baffle to the sides, however as can just be seen in the picture below, mine was attached through the perforations of the lower baffle assembly, which was very tricky to dislodge.

Once the baffle was removed the stud that the baffle and retaining springs attach to can be seen (near the fuel sender casing)

With all the components out of the tank I could take a closer look. Below you can see the failed fuel pick up hose complete with filter, the baffle with signs of disintegrated rubber settled on it, and the retaining springs.

I then reassembled the baffle with the new parts outside of the tank to ensure I knew how it all went together for when I would do it effectively blind inside.

As mentioned in the YouTube video I found I didn't have the clip to attached the end of the return hose to, so I used a tie to affix it to the baffle.

Since I couldn't make a video of me rummaging around inside the tank to fit all the components of the baffle assembly together, the photo below is a fast forward to the finished job.

Following the instructions in the YouTube video my only variation was that I did it from a standing position from the front passenger side wing, leaning over with just one hand in the tank. I expected to be really frustrated with this step but I think I got lucky. Everything slotted together nicely and the only minor difficulty encountered was attaching the nut on top of the washer and retainer springs to lock down the baffle. I found the arm of the baffle had an arch in it so I found a metal rod to push down on it, between the springs. Once flat the nut went on easily.

Relieved at the in-tank baffle success I now needed to replace the boots and connectors to the pump wiring.

Below shows the current state of the wires. The picture doesn't relay how solid the boots had become. These can't be replaced without removing the connectors, but even by my standards this is an simple job.

Below you can see the replaced wires with the new boots and connectors.

Now for re-connecting the fuel pump assembly and fitting it back into the tank.

Lessons learnt from my first attempt a couple of weeks back is that the positioning of the pump in the boot relative to the electrical connections, the fuel feed and return hose barbs, and the eventual placement in the tank so that hoses do not hinder the re-fastening of the compartment cover panel is very important. It would be a real pain to have to undo it all if you cannot fit the panel after all the hard work. Believe me I found out the hard way!

I'm not saying the following is the "correct" positioning, but it's what worked for me.

I think the indentations in the pump casing on opposite sides is designed to allow the return pipe to sit nicely in between, however I could not get the hoses to fit sufficiently such that the boot seal then can close nicely over the boot. So the above photo shows how I ended up positioning the pump and return pipe.

Below you can see a side on view that also shows the position of the return pick outside of the boot.

I then attached the pick up hose to the pump and the return hose to the pipe.

I inserted the boot into the tank and attached the electrical connections and the feed and return hoses.

I then completed this part of the job by sliding down the seal and after the below photo was taken, tightened the hose clamp.

As per the lesson learned, mentioned just above, I had to slightly twist the boot clockwise a little to position the hoses more pointing backwards so the compartment cover could be screwed back in.

Before closing the compartment I wanted to check to see if my low fuel indicator light worked. By my reckoning, with no fuel in the tank I should be able to turn ignition to position two and see the light illuminated in the binnacle.

Either my theory was wrong or my low fuel light wasn't working, as I had long suspected. I next put back a couple of litres of fuel and tried again also fully starting the car, no luck, then added up to five litres, repeated, and still nothing.

Finally I pumped all fuel back in to the tank.

and after starting the car for a final check, replaced the compartment cover.

Job done! Hopefully...

Upcoming jobs that I'll aim to document soon include fitting a fan override switch, and fitting new circuit breaker holder clips.

Stay tuned!

[smolvenger]

Stella of Essex, or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed Series. Chapter Eight: Rhodendron

Fix-It Fanfiction Series of The Essex Serpent

Pairing: Some Stella Ransome/William Ransome, mainly Stella/Being Happy, and William/Being Held Accountable and Facing Consequences for Cheating Eventually Stella Ransome/Male OC

Series Summary: Stella must come to terms with not only her mortality but her husband's heartbreaking affair. A picture of a marriage of love and bliss torn apart by a husband's infidelity. And Stella herself in the center of it all, torn between a wife's duty and her own quiet but present rage. Where in the midst of devastating heartbreak she gains her strength, finds her voice, and dares to seek freedom, hope...and even revenge.

Chapter Summary: Stella flees from her husband's house and asks for the aid of an old friend in her predicament. She writes testimonies of William's infidelity to be sent and shared.

Warnings: Eventual Major Character Death, Female Rage, Good For Her, ANGST, WHUMP, HURT/COMFORT, DRAMA, Discussions of Adultery, and the Trauma of Being Cheated on, discussions of marriage, children, mentions of death, religion, drinking, brief cursing, and mentions of illness. Being Anti-William and Anti-C*ra, so if you like them or the pairing be warned.

A03 Link

Ko-Fi Link

Prologue//One//Two//Three//Four//Five//Six//Seven

“There is a vision I have…Of slender women…who are born and raised to be perfect women. Who take whatever punishment we give them, and bounce back, strengthened by love, unconditionally. It is a vision that has become my life…there are still women. Women willing to sacrifice themselves for the love of a man. Even a man whose love is completely without worth”- M. Butterfly, David Henry Hwang.

“OPHELIA: I hope all will be well. We must be patient, but I cannot choose but weep”- Hamlet, Shakespeare.

I moved slowly, but I reached town. No one was around—no one around to recognize, stop or force me back to his house. I was fortunate in that. It was getting to be evening. The clouds were dark, and the wind picked up. I stared up into the sky, then closed my eyes and clasped my hands together.

“God, please protect me. God, give me strength.” I prayed.

I opened my eyes to the dark grey clouds and crossed myself solemnly as the few rain drizzles broke. I then continued further into Aldwinter.

By the time I reached Fanny’s house, it burst into a torrent of rain. I covered the bag beneath my coat and removed the money from my pockets quickly into the bag. So, help me, the money and letters would not be damaged beyond their use!

I had not exerted myself like this in a long time. My knees wanted to give in from exhaustion beneath me. The rain splattered from an angle and hit a part of me. Trying to gasp in a breath, I reached up with one shaking hand and began to knock on the door.

From the inside, I heard Fanny.

“Have you heard something? A noise? Let me take Carrie to her nursery..."

I knocked again. My wraps were fewer- but still urgent. I leaned against the wall to keep from collapsing.

“Oh God, no…it couldn’t be….” She fretted.

“You don’t think?” I heard the Austrian accent of her husband, Vince Kroeger, add on.

“The snake!”

How long could I stay out here? Any minute I could black out and collapse outside! Shakily, I used the doorknob to pull myself back to my feet, I kept pounding on the door with a fury, and I begged with what loudness my voice could muster.

“Fanny! Fanny! Please let me in!”

I heard footsteps at the door and the click of the lock.

“That’s no snake!” Vince commented.

Fanny opened the door and gasped seeing me. Her husband, a tall, muscular, strong-chinned man with wheat-colored hair slicked back, followed behind her. My tired legs finally collapsed beneath me. He caught my hand and pulled me up so I would not fall onto the threshold of the door and home.

“Why, it’s Stella!! Dear God, Stella! Here! Like this!” Fanny yelped.

“Get me inside, please! Quickly! And shut the door, now!” I begged.

He walked me over to the parlor they had. It was a red and white room with a tea table, a pink couch, white decorations, and a pretty grandfather clock. They placed me to lay down on the couch. It must have been shocking- me in a coat covering only my nightgown beneath and my hair was undone and free and a little wet in my face, hair, and coat from the storm. Fanny even squinted and put her finger in my hair. She pulled out the blue wildflower.

“What…what is this? Have you walked all the way here in the rain? Why are you here? Why are you scared?”

I heard the door close and lock.

“Mrs. Ransome, should I fetch your husband, does he…” Vince offered.

I shook my head desperately.

“No! I’m here because of William!” I interrupted.

From inside my coat, I pulled out the bag. I reached into it, retrieving the letters. Thankfully, there was no water damage to them from the rain. I began to file through them rapidly. The ones I knew were love letters I moved to the front, keeping the others to the back.

“What do you mean?” Fanny asked.

I placed the pile of letters on the little tea table in front of the couch.

“The children- Has he hurt them?” Vince asked seriously.

His green eyes lowered down onto the letters in curiosity.

“The children are safe…” I answered.

“Then what is it? Why are you out of your sick bed? Your house? What did Father Ransome do?” Fanny questioned.

She too tilted her head at the letters.

“What are these?” she asked.

I placed my hands together, hardly believing the words myself. They struggled to come out of me but did.

“W-W-W-William…. William is having an affair. I saw him with her, making love to her in the forest.”

“What?!” Fanny yelled, leaning back.

Vince swore, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Then I found these!” I answered, picking up one of the love letters and offering it to them. I set it down in a pile before them on the tea table.

There was a pause. Fanny and Vince began to take the letter and read it together. Then Fanny focused on it as Vince moved on to the next one under it. They saw The Woman’s name clearly and began scanning them through. What if they didn’t believe me? What if they thought me mad and burned them? Would I have to jump into the fires and fetch them before they burned and move on somewhere else?

You could tell that they reached where the contents became more amorous. Fanny blinked rapidly and then placed a hand over her mouth. Vince’s jaw dropped as he read the back of the second letter and then placed a hand on his forehead as he finished reading it. I removed the letter from her hand and clasped both of mine onto hers, begging again.

“Fanny, I know you have a spare room. I knew at least you of all the women here would pity me! Please, let me stay here! I told my children they could find me here- I cannot be with him anymore, not after this. If you cannot- then take me somewhere else, I can stay! Please! Please don’t let me go back to William’s house!”

She placed a hand over mine, her lips pressed together.

“Do you…do you believe me? Both of you?” I asked.

Fanny nodded, her brown, squinting eyes brimming with tears.

“Yes! Yes, I do! Oh, dear God, Stella! Christ almighty-Father Ransome himself an adulterer! I never could have imagined the day! How terrible! You poor thing! Poor thing!” she wailed.

“I never thought ever he would even think of this…and not now I’m…I’m…He never loved me!” I confessed. “Not after everything I did for him all those years! None of it was enough for him!”

I crumpled down onto the couch, burying my face in my hands to sob again. never thought there would be enough tears I could shed over William’s apprehensive betrayal.

Fanny leaned me in for an embrace and let me cry against her. She went “shhh” and patted my back and hair as I cried it out again. I felt her head turn towards her husband.

“Could you make some Chamomile tea, darling?” Fanny asked softly.

“Yes, mein Hertz,” Vince confirmed.

I heard his footsteps in the kitchen and some water running. Fanny then pulled me up and held my shoulders, looking into my eyes.

“Have you told William you know about it?” she asked seriously.

“He had not returned home by the time I departed. I left him a note to him saying I knew. Left some to the children too. Their notes said I would be here. Fanny, I couldn’t abandon them! What mother am I if I did that! What mother am I to do that…” I answered.

“But that means William could find their notes!” Fanny pointed out.

I nodded. My hands felt clammy beneath me.

“Please, Fanny, please don’t let him in! I can’t stand to even look at him anymore!” I pleaded.

“Of course not! she confirmed.

In the other room, I heard the tea kettle whistle.

“May I stay here?” I repeated.

“Yes, as long as you would like….” Fanny answered.

Vince returned with three steaming cups of tea. He handed one to each of us. He continually asked if I was alright as I drank my own liquid, sweetened with honey. Fanny continued to read through the letters, frowning as she skimmed over each and every page on the pile. Finally, she curled up her fist and slammed it onto the table, shaking the papers.

“God! William! And with her too! Her! The Londoner Widow!” Fanny cried angrily.

Vince gulped down his tea, then went over to check the guest room. I heard their infant daughter babbling from her nursery. Fanny then looked up at me, and then bowed her head low.

“I thought I saw something between them…” she confessed.

“Between them?” I asked.

First, she looked down and away, and then at me, eyes shiny again and frowning sadly.

“At the dance. They danced together and they seemed very passionate about it as they did it. How he looked at her that night I... I wondered if it was…was a look of longing. But I thought, William is a vicar and a loving husband, he would never, not to you, he wouldn't….and that I was only making up something silly and then I got distracted with my little girl. I’ve been…been terrified for her since Naomi …"

I nodded. Sadly, in the past, William had to lead the funeral services of Vince and Fanny's first three children. Finally, they had a little girl who was healthy. I could not blame her vigilant fear of her daughter, especially with word of The Serpent.

"But now…now I…” Fanny babbled on.

She wiped a few tears with her hands and sniffled.

“Stella, I’m so sorry. I should have warned you or told you about it…” she confessed.

“I was the one who encouraged him to dance with her at that party in the first place. And you weren’t sure about what you saw and wanted to look after your child! it wasn’t you; I was the one who made him stray,” I added on.

We embraced each other, letting the waves of crying and guilt wash over us again, released and free.

She took my hand to help me up. She walked by me into the guest room. It had white wallpaper with blue flowers and green foliage dotted across it. There was a tall bed with white blankets and next to it a desk with a mirror on it. A chair with a pink pillow sat next to an unlit fireplace.

“I was the one who introduced you to him in the first place! All those years ago! Oh, all those years we all swooned and giggled over William, who would have thought!” she muttered with anguish.

I made no reply. She led me to sit up on the bed. I looked down at the diamond shapes on the carpet and began to comment on my thoughts.

“But you see…I let him be with her. I just never thought…never imagined…. Fanny I- I thought it was just at most a little infatuation with her, like every other man in town. I thought it was me he truly loved. I let them walk together for the Serpent. I let them dance. I let her dine with us. I never thought…I never imagined once that…. not until…”

I wrapped my arms around myself.

“I practically pushed him in front of her! It’s my fault! It’s my fault I got consumption! It’s my fault for encouraging him to do this! It’s my fault I told him to dance with her! And it’s my fault he betrayed me!” I mourned.

She handed me a handkerchief to sob into. I began to cough some blood into it as well. Her fists clenched at her sides.

“Did you…ever tell Will to sleep with her? Not dance- sleep with her!” she asked.

“No, I never did,” I answered.

“Of course, not… it’s not your fault, it's his! He did a vile, wretched thing! Your husband should be the one crawling to you for forgiveness! You’re the innocent one, you’ve not done one bad thing since your marriage!” she replied.

She removed my coat. She then hung it up to dry on a rack on the wall.

"I've done bad things, Fanny..."

“You made us dinner countless times, grew flowers for my wedding, and even helped delivered my Carrie, Stella! It’s the least I can do for you! You helped every woman and person in town! You should hear what the other people discuss about you when you’re not around! What they’ve all said about you for years! About how Father Ransome was gifted with the sweetest, most virtuous woman on earth to be his wife and mother to his children! How lucky he had been to have you at all!” she commented.

“Really? I…I thought for years I was the one lucky he picked me….” I muttered.

I felt myself smile from the praise.

“Oh no, really, all this time, it was the opposite!”

I bent my head and folded my arms, but then looked back up at her.

“I never…but I’m not that…I…I…I thank you, Fanny….”

A bit of rain from the coat dripped onto the carpet leaving a little stain. My nightgown had been stained not only with a little blood and a little rain but also with the green stains of the grass from the forest. I felt Fanny’s eyes lead down to them.

“Can I…can I have a change of clothes, please? I think we’re the same size…” I asked.

She left, and then returned with a new nightdress. She helped me change into it. Vince arrived with a small plate of leftover dinner and then left, giving us space to talk. Surprisingly, I was ravenous and finished it quickly. Fanny lighted up the fireplace with a bit of wood and a match. She then gripped me by the shoulders, almost knocking over the plate on my lap onto the floor.

“There is one phrase I want you to repeat to yourself throughout this, Stella…it is not your fault! Do you hear me? Let me hear you say it!” she ordered.

“It…it is not my fault…” I repeated.

“Good!”

The baby began to cry.

“Ah! Little Carrie! I’ll be back soon- she must be hungry…” she excused herself.

She stomped out as Vince closed the door. Despite the infant’s crying, I heard another angrier, adult crying right outside.

“Scoundrel! The nerve of him! Cruel, heartless man! I ought to strangle Father Ransome myself when he’s on the pulpit on Sunday!” Fanny ranted.

“Calm down, dear, the baby! I can go to her if you cannot!” Vince assured her.

“No, no! That’s her hungry cry! Let me!”

She let out a frustrated sigh and stomped off to the nursery, uttering numerous curses that would make a sailor blush beneath her breath.

Vince cracked the door open and poked his head through.

“Mrs. Ransome…I do have a telegram and operate where I work. Tomorrow…I can, uh, walk you through the back door…and-and do you know where your own family lives?”

“I know their addresses, yes,” I confirmed.

“You can use it to send a telegram to your family. First thing tomorrow…I’ll even pay.”

“No, I have money-“

“No, let me!” he insisted.

He was right. I could only access wages through my husband and then they were his, not mine. This would probably be the only money I would ever access. They had to be used carefully.

“Alright. Tomorrow, if I’m still alive…take me there and I’ll send them. One more thing…do you have stationary, Vince? May I have some, please?”

“Yes.”

He left and then returned with piles of paper and a pen and then left me to write.

Outside thunder boomed. The baby wailed again, and I heard Fanny shushing her. I lowered my head onto the desk away from the papers and ink. I took in what shaky breaths I could. Then I jolted up with a fear that left my insides feeling watery.

What if tonight was when the consumption won over me at last? What if this was the hour?

Then I couldn’t stop now. I had to act. I would not die without the town knowing. I would not die letting William get away with this. I would not die letting this become a secret between friends.

I took out a piece of paper. I felt another tear roll onto my nose. I had to confirm this. Confirm to them and myself that my worst nightmare had come true.

“Dear Congregation,

Here, I lay, a charge against my husband, your Rector, the Reverend William Ransome of the Aldwinter Vicarage. His crime is that, without my knowledge, without my acquiescence, he had formed and consummated an extramarital affair with…”

I finished the rest of it. Then I got another piece of paper and wrote some more. My urgency steeled me forth.

“Dear Ladies of The Aldwinter Bible Study,

I write to inform you that I am in dire need of help and comfort. My husband, Father William Ransome, is having an affair.

I saw him meeting with her. They were kissing, embracing, and committing unspeakable acts in the forest within miles of our house. I then discovered the letters from and to William documenting their passion and having them in my possession. I shall reveal his lover’s identity should you ask me unless you have your suspicions. You are probably correct as to who she is.

I have no desire to see him anymore after this. I will no longer stay in his house.

I am staying at Mrs. Kroeger’s for the time being. I need your support immediately. I need you to bring my children to visit me whenever they can without their father in their presence. If you may, look after them, shelter, feed, and protect Joanna, John, and James! You shall send letters to me through Mrs. Kroeger. I ask you, do not allow my husband to even enter the Kroeger household.

Most of all, I ask you, if there is nothing else you can do, pray for me. Pray that I have the strength to bear this great pain, not only in my body but in my heart. If you can send the comforting words and presence of a friend! Or a prayer- a prayer that someday, I will feel what it is once more to be happy, now as I lay on what might be my deathbed!

Sincerely,

Stella Ransome.”

As it finished drying, there was a furious knock on the door. I jumped out of my skin.

“Mr. Kroger! Mr. Kroger!” a familiar voice cried out from the outside of the house.

Of course, It was only a matter of time until he came here! What if he found and read the children’s letters on their beds, as Fanny and I feared?

But then- the letters between him and The Woman! They were in the parlor! If he got into the house, even if Vince and Fanny kept him at bay, he would see them out there and retrieve them! He was a tall, strong man fond of running. It would be easy for him.

Shaking uncontrollably, I hurried into the room quietly. If I had to rip them from his large, handsome hands, so be it, I would do it.

But he wasn’t there. William kept knocking again and again at the door, continuing to ask to be let inside.

Fanny and Vince walked into the parlor and then froze, staring at me with big, frightened eyes. I put a finger to my mouth for silence and they nodded. Then I scurried to the tea table, picked up the letters, and Fanny quietly shooed me back into the guest room. From inside, I locked the door.

William continued to plead with desperation, “Mr. Kroger- it’s your Rector! I must speak with you now!”

“He’s coming!” Fanny assured from inside with false cheerfulness.

I hid every letter- mine, The Woman’s, and Williams, and then the bag of money within the sheets of the bed and settled back there quickly. I then lay on top of it, letting my weight feel the crinkling paper. I forced myself still, despite my shaking. If he got in here and burst through the door, they would be hidden. I rarely saw William extremely angry. He wasn’t the type to lose his temper and destroy things, God forbid he would rip out the bedsheets his dying wife was laying over! Even if he burst in here, forced me in his arms, and carried me home like a hunter with his prize, the letters, and even the money would be safe.

I heard Vince’s footsteps towards the front door.

“I’m coming, Father Ransome,” he answered calmly.

Like a child, I covered myself under the blankets and placed another pillow over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut. I held myself tight and would not let go. My heart roared in my ears, and I fought back any urge to cough, no matter how much blood I tasted in my mouth. I tried to think of anything, anything to distract myself. Trying to play songs in my head, reciting scripture, poetry, bits of my books and love stories, my father’s Greek myths, anything to block it out. I couldn’t bear to think what was happening outside, that any minute I would be forced back into the house and bed of my husband. I had to remain silent. I would not give a hint in the house now I was here should he enter.

I heard male voices from outside, but they were muffled by the thunderstorm getting louder.

Some time passed. There were no voices. Only the rain and thunder. I was almost partway through trying to remember Wordsworth when I heard a knock on my door that made my skin crawl.

It was Fanny’s voice that said, “He’s gone, Stella.”

I let out an exhale and let go of the blankets and pillows. I went to the door.

“What did he say?” I asked in terror.

“He asked if you were here or if I saw you, Mrs. Ransome, he said you were missing from home,” Vince informed. “I told him you were not here; I hadn’t seen you all day, and that William should ask somewhere else or look in the morning.”

“You lied to him!” I cried in amazement, a hand flying over my mouth.

“If he can sin, then so can I…” he remarked.

“But rest assured, he is no longer here, and he won’t be welcome in here…if we have to lie a hundred times, we’ll do it!” Fanny promised, she reached over and squeezed my shoulder in comfort.

I took one of the black blankets from the guest room and draped it over my shoulders. I took out the letters I wrote and found the envelopes where I left them. I folded and inserted the second letter in one and addressed it to Mrs. Lee’s house for The Women’s Bible Study as well as her, our eternal hostess. I wasn’t sure where to mail the first letter. If I mailed it to the church or asked for it to be printed in the bulletin, William would find it and read it. Most likely, he would destroy it easily to absolve the public knowledge of his affair.

No, it would need to be spread, I mused. Not only the Women’s Bible Study, but the congregation and every person in Aldwinter-had to know the truth about their priest. One easily destroyed letter wouldn’t do. I took out another piece of paper and began making a copy of it. And then another. Word would spread and if one was destroyed, then Hydra-like, another would appear in the next house in its place.

I hoped that at least the women of the Bible Study would read the letter for them and would use their most common weapon, the one they unsheathed at every study meeting before and after the Bibles were opened, my small sin, the one indulgence I gave myself to every time in the past- they would talk. And talking spreads.

Please, please, let them talk! I prayed.

I began to take out more pieces of paper and copy down the letter by hand as much as I could. I had managed a tenth letter when it chimed midnight. I sat at my chair, staring at the fireplace as it slowly burned the small logs.

Logs.

Wood.

The tree.

The tree with the blue ribbon.

The tree where they sinned in front of me.

I took out the pink pillow and hugged it to me. I heard a gentle knock.

“Stella, are you awake?” Fanny asked.

“Yes.”

I unlocked the door to see her and Vince.

“Do you need anything else?” Vince asked.

“Mr. Kroeger, you’re already taking me to the post office in the morning… Fanny, tomorrow, this letter must go to Mrs. Lee’s house. And these- these are copies of the same letter- if you could send them to any member of the congregation or anyone in town who knows of me, even. Please- put it in their boxes and slip it under their doors. I’d be grateful.”

She nodded her dark, curly head. I placed the envelopes into her small hand. Vince leaned closer to her and placed an arm over her shoulder, kissing the side of her forehead.

“My wife always was a little Valkyrie! All the more reason I love her!” Vince boasted.

To think I once had a love like that. I thought I would be happy dying as I was William Ransome's wife and the mother of his children. Back when I thought he loved me. Now here I was, to die without the love of my husband. A husband who I still loved, but could not return to.

I knew I had the love and loyalty of friends. I had to now learn to content myself with that. I didn’t know if a romantic love could ever enter my heart again after this, should I live even to the next week. I've learned my lesson from William. I couldn’t allow that anymore. No, I would only be opening myself to be hurt again.

“Of course, I will, first thing tomorrow morning…I’ll even lock them in the safe until then,” she promised.

Fanny looked down at the letters reading them. She swallowed hard, but her eyes were hard and resolved.

“Keep them safe as you walk and make sure they are delivered directly,” I requested.

“We shall…but Stella, it’s quite late!” she insisted. She even looked at the clock, frowning.

I looked back at the burning logs in the fireplace.

“I cannot sleep…I cannot stop thinking about William and…William and C-C-C-could you perhaps make another cup of tea for me?”

Vince put his hands on his hips and then turned halfway away to the parlor.

“I think tonight you need something stronger than tea, Mrs. Ransome!” he said.

He went out and returned with a huge decanter of golden whiskey in one hand and three glasses in another. He poured me a generous amount in one cup and forced it into my hands.

“But Vince…I really ought not to drink when it’s not a holiday…” I asked.

“When men learn they are dying, they drink. When men learn their wives have fucked another, they drink. You’re both- so twice the reason. Let’s drink. All of us…” Vince said.

Fanny poured herself a glass. I sat on the chair and they were on the floor. I stared into the liquid in my cup. I still didn't get rid of it, the unfamiliar smell and color fascinated me, enticed me. I felt myself raise the glass closer to my lips. Then it froze in hesitation.

“It will relax you…” Vince promised.

“If there is one night you become a drunkard, it’s this one…” she suggested.

Vince raised his cup. Fanny and I followed.

“Here…to Stella! May Reverend Ransome one day rot in hell! And may Stella Ransome live a little longer!” Vince toasted.

“To Stella!” Fanny repeated.

“To…to me…” I replied hesitantly.

I began to take the first drink in tandem with them. I coughed a little at the burn. Fanny brought a little water and a plate of fudge.

“You might need some sweets as well after today…” she offered.

Vince downed his whiskey in two big swigs.

“Who could imagine it? Mrs. Stella Ransome, The English Rose herself, drinking in my house!” Vince joked with a laugh.

Outside, I heard the rain pelt right over the roof and the grandfather clock chimed a quarter past.

“Well, who could imagine Father William Ransome an unfaithful bastard!” Fanny responded bitterly.

She frowned and drank hers. She kept a tight grip on the glass as if she wanted it to shatter in her hands.

I ate some fudge and sipped on the water. Then I sipped the whiskey again. Vince was right. The whiskey, far stronger than my occasional cup of wine, was relaxing me. I even felt my eyelids become heavy and I loosened my shoulders.

When I looked at the fire, I noticed that the center of the flames and the very bottom of it were a bright, light blue. Small, but present and in the heart of the fire. Slowly, I nursed at the whiskey until I finished it. Fanny led me to the bed and tucked me in. They left. The room became darker save for the fire’s glow. It was warm and comfortable. For once, I could be a child again. Some of the old lullabies my mother sang to me in girlhood entered my mind:

“Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green, When I am king, dilly dilly, you shall be queen”

In my younger days, I shared a bed with Elliott. When I was ten, I shared a bed with Edith, my little sister. Her now being old enough, Elliott being too old, and there being only a few beds to go around in the Harris houses. Edith and I still shared that bed when we moved to Aldwinter. It cut down on the cost of Father buying two separate ones. Then I entered William’s bed as his bride. I never had a whole bed all to myself until that night.

For that, as well as many things- the kindness and courage of Fanny and her husband, their belief in my word, their shelter, their protection from my husband, the food, the drinks, the access to papers for letters, the room that could lock, and now, this soft, warm bed that was completely mine if only for a night- I was grateful.

I grew more and more sleepy and even more at peace. I soon fell asleep in peace and woke up, rested, to sunshine late the next morning.

Vince managed to find extra clothes for me to wear, as well as a coat, shawl, and a hat not only for warmth but to avoid recognition. With his careful arm to steady and keep me up should weakness stir my legs, he walked me the back way into the post office where he worked, led me to a room, and seated me in front of a telegram machine, showing me how to form the message into it.

To think how different everything was just a year ago. I had my health. I had my husband. Now I had lost both, I thought, trying to think of what I could tell my family.

Vince sat over the chair and kept an eye out for any unwanted eyes or visitors in the tiny, musty, brown room.

“It costs you per word. So, my advice- make them short and put ‘stop’ in between them,” he warned

I began the first one.

WILLIAM HAS A MISTRESS. STOP.

HURRY TO ALDWINTER SOON AS YOU CAN. STOP.

I could hardly realize the words as I wrote them to be typed and sent off to my family members where they were. That was to be sent to my parents. I began the one for my brother, Brian.

WILLIAM HAS A MISTRESS. STOP.

HURRY TO ALDWINTER SOON AS YOU CAN. STOP.

My other siblings had to be notified too. I kept writing the words over and over each on different scraps of paper I ripped off. I kept typing again and again at an anxious and desperate speed, the words glaring back at me.

WILLIAM HAS A MISTRESS STOP.

HURRY TO ALDWINTER SOON AS YOU CAN. STOP

WILLIAM HAS A MISTRESS. STOP.

WILLIAM HAS A MISTRESS.

WILLIAM. HAS A MISTRESS.

WILLIAM. HAS A MISTRESS.

STOP.

I finished the last one. Vince made sure of the rest- that they would be sent off to my family members. We then quickly returned to his house without incident. I made sure the curtains on the windows were closed once I got back in the room. I had just removed the hat and coat when a knock on the door made me jump. Vince peeked through the curtains and confirmed it was his wife.

Fanny then entered the parlor, smiling triumphantly with a clenched hand over her head.

“I sent the letters without interruption- to Mrs. Lee and to each Congregation member I could!” she reported.

Now all I had to do was wait.

Wait for a response to my letters. For a word from friends. For a word from my family. For William’s knock. For a visitor. For help. For my children. For death. Anything.

[olafsings]

Music History Today: January 13, 2023

January 13, 1979: American soul and gospel singer-songwriter Donny Hathaway took his own life at 33. In 1971, he recorded a cover of Carole King's "You've Got a Friend" with Roberta Flack. A significant hit, it sparked an entire album of duets. The soft, romantic ballad "Where Is the Love?" topped the R&B charts and won a Grammy. His mood swings broke his partnership with Flack in 1973.

In 1977, Hathaway patched things up with Flack and recorded another duet, "The Closer I Get to You." Sessions for a second album of duets were underway when Hathaway was found dead on the sidewalk below the 15th-floor window of his room in New York's Essex House. The glass had been neatly removed from the window, and there were no signs of struggle, leading investigators to rule Hathaway's death as a suicide.

[mirandamosley]

Miranda Mosley CV

Professional Resume 

2018 - PRESENT Piano teaching/accompanying. Demo CD Handel & Bach. Local concerts; folk music research.

2018 – COMMUNITY ACTION, London. Campaign to removal two Telegraph Masts from Local Community. One successful. [collecting signatures, letters to power – and meetings aiding Constituents in lawsuit against telecoms company].

2015-16 SHADOW CABINET GOVERNMENT - Assistant to Welsh Labour MP; incl. Organised music concerts, events & meetings.

2014 - ART FOR SCHOOLS - Designed all posters and leaflets for two years; Created two theatre sets for drama productions.

2010-15 MUSICAL ACCOMPANIST; Accompanist, privately for instrumentalists and singers, mostly classical and musical theatre, and also for a time at Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music, London. Accompanist, for female student a’capella group, choirs incl. at Dance Works; incl. musical theatre auditions and working with actors. Organist & choir rehearsal organiser/director - St Edmunds Church, Loughton, Essex;

Rehearsal pianist/recording for theatre piece - Frieda and Diego the musical (Ivo Mosley) Recording of Yiddish folk songs at RADA for Jacob Gordin Project with singer, and working with players for Mozart operas, chorus singing and choir rehearsals for the Dorset Opera and The University of Bristol (*Bristol Music Club, Victoria Rooms*; soprano and piano concerts at Selwyn College Cambridge and Southwark Cathedral. Piano concerts in Loughton, raising money for Children in Need. Accompanist for comedy group at comedy club in North London, Little Venice. At St Paul’s Covent Garden – Keyboard for singer for Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

Piano meeting – Italy - San Danielle Del Fruili – Solo piano lessons and concert; solo concerts in Orkney, on Orkey radio and St Andrews; Repetiteur/accompanist - Italian Opera Summer School in Puglia.

MUSIC TEACHING Piano teaching to children – privately and at Cameron House School in London. Basic singing & music theory teaching.

ADMINISTRATIVE; Apprentice; The House of Commons Library, and administrative assistant for Art Curator’s Office. Accompanist for Library Choir including fundraisers and at Speaker’s House.

Student pub worker; Bristol. 

2007 University of Cardiff MA in Keyboard Studies (incl. develop’t of keyboard instruments)

2006 University of Bristol BA Music (2.1) [organised, publicity and performed in concerts]. Russian literature (Dostoevsky) and French language open unit.

Awards and bursaries

Winner of Concerto Competition 2003 – piano soloist with orchestra in Krakow Polish Academy of Music.

Recipient of Ladyman Bequest 2006

Recipient of Draper’s Company bursary 2006

[elite-clearance]

Shop / Retail - Clearance & Removal available

[gasconnectheating]

Your Guide to Boiler Installations in Essex

Ensuring your space remains safe and comfortable starts with installing a reliable boiler. For this, you require a professional installer to ensure all components function properly and meet your needs. From consultation to installation and maintenance, it's a whole process, and here's all the information you need for a smoother experience.

The Initial Consultation

The first step is to discuss your needs. Understand your specific heating needs, home size, and budget. Book a consultation to know what things will help you decide. An expert might also visit your property to assess your current setup, understand your lifestyle, and check the condition of your house in general. These considerations will allow the installer to provide a precise quotation and tailor the installation to your needs.

Choosing the Right Boiler

The next step will be to select the right boiler. It's a critical decision. Your property's size, hot water or heating needs, location, etc., will influence your choice. Other factors to consider are ventilation, plumbing and gas lines, and water supply. The idea is to get an energy-efficient boiler that fits your budget, meets your needs, and runs powerfully. Invest in a high-quality system, which will certainly pay off in the long run.

The Installation Process

Once you've chosen the company you wish to work with, selected a suitable boiler, and agreed on the proposed pricing, the installation begins. The installers reach your location at the scheduled time and get straight to their work. Your home and the installation site are prepared so everything goes smoothly. They safely disconnect, remove, and dispose of the old boiler. The new boiler is then installed, ensuring all components, like your gas, water, and heating systems, are functioning well. Once installed, everything goes under rigorous testing and safety checks for proper compliance. The engineer finally walks you through the newly installed boiler and offers tips on maintaining the unit and what to do in emergencies.

Boiler Maintenance

Post installation, keeping your boiler in top condition is essential to prolong its life. The installation company explains the functioning and upkeep so you can care for the system. Besides, you must schedule regular boiler services to check for system faults and component cleaning to ensure optimal performance. This can prevent unexpected breakdowns and maintain your comfort. In addition, ensure the area is well-ventilated and clean. Check for any changes like strange sounds or odours, and act quickly before the problem escalates. With some simple tips and annual servicing, you'll be good to go.

Professional Installation Matters

Boiler installations in Essex or anywhere else must be handled professionally. While many Essex homeowners might be tempted to do it themselves, expert assistance ensures safety and efficiency. Professional installers are qualified to perform every task accurately. They bring a wealth of knowledge for correct installation and functioning. A properly fitted boiler maintains energy efficiency, minimises future repairs, and keeps your power bills in check. Certified professionals can also ensure compliance, giving you the peace of mind that your home and safety are in good hands.

Contact Local Experts to Get Started

For a seamless boiler installation experience in Essex, you can get in touch with the county's best – Gas Connect. Our experts are committed to offering customer satisfaction, transparent pricing, and utmost precision in our work. Whether you require a new boiler or a service plan, we can help. Contact Gas Connect to schedule your consultation.

[essexlocksmithmd]

Essex Locksmith MD

Whether you’ve lost your key, broken it or had it stolen from you, the last thing you want is to be sitting outside your home with no way in. Luckily you can call your local locksmith at 443-267-8117 for the full service of our 24 hour lock smiths including lock rekey, lock repair or replacement. If your kids keep misplacing their keys, you can trust our professional locksmiths to make new and extra keys or suggest smart lock options. Services We Offer : Transponder Car Keys- Car Lock Repair- Car Door Opening- Lost Car Keys- Ignition Car Keys- Broken Car Key Removal- Trunk Opening- Change Residential Locks- Lost House Keys- Home Lock Rekey- Deadbolt Installation- Residential Lock Repair- Patio Door Locks- Master Key Systems- Access Control Systems- Broken Office Key Removal- Lost Office Keys- Safe Opening- Keyless Entry- Commercial Lock Repair- Emergency Lockouts our offer $20 OFF On Rekey Lock with New Lock Change $15 OFF On Change Lock 10% OFF On Car Keys 15% OFF SENIOR CITIZEN Must Present ID to Verify 30% OFF 2nd Key Ignition 50% OFF 2nd Key We are available in "Baltimore MD , Columbia MD , Germantown MD , Silver Spring MD , Waldorf MD , Ellicott City MD , Frederick MD , Glen Burnie MD, Gaithersburg MD, Rockville MD, Bethesda MD, Dundalk MD, Bowie MD, Towson MD ,Aspen Hill MD , Severn MD , Wheaton MD , North Bethesda MD 21201, 21202, 21205, 21206, 21207, 21208, 21209, 21210, 21211, 21212, 21213, 21214, 21215, 21216, 21217, 21218, 21222, 21223, 21224, 21225, 21226, 21227, 21228, 21229, 21230, 21231, 21234, 21236, 21237, 21239, 21251. our address : 423 Eastern Blvd #123, Essex MD 21221 Call Now : 443-267-8117 We are available : all days : 5 AM - 12 AM our website : essexlocksmithmd.com

[johan-brickwork-blog]

Essex Air Conditioning: The Ultimate Guide to Cooling and Comfort in Your Home

Essex is known for its beautiful landscapes, historic towns, and vibrant communities. However, like the rest of the UK, the weather can be unpredictable, ranging from chilly winters to sweltering summers. This fluctuation in temperature makes having a reliable air conditioning system essential for maintaining comfort in your home or business. In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore everything you need to know about Essex air conditioning, from choosing the right system to understanding its benefits and maintenance. Whether you're considering installing a new unit or upgrading your existing system, this article will help you make an informed decision.

1. The Importance of Air Conditioning in Essex

Air conditioning is no longer a luxury; it has become a necessity for many homeowners and businesses in Essex. With the increasing frequency of heatwaves, an efficient air conditioning system can provide relief from the heat, ensuring a comfortable living or working environment. Moreover, air conditioning systems are not just about cooling; they also help in maintaining indoor air quality by filtering out pollutants, allergens, and humidity.

1.1. Climate Considerations in Essex

Essex experiences a temperate maritime climate, with mild winters and warm summers. However, the region has seen a rise in temperature extremes in recent years, making air conditioning more critical than ever. In summer, temperatures can soar above 30°C, making it challenging to stay comfortable without proper cooling. An air conditioning system can help regulate indoor temperatures, providing a cool oasis during the hottest months.

1.2. Benefits of Air Conditioning

Temperature Control: Air conditioning systems allow you to maintain a consistent and comfortable temperature in your home, regardless of the weather outside.

Improved Air Quality: Modern air conditioning systems come with filters that remove dust, allergens, and other pollutants from the air, contributing to a healthier indoor environment.

Humidity Control: Excess humidity can lead to mould growth and damage to your property. Air conditioning systems help reduce humidity levels, protecting your home and belongings.

Increased Property Value: A well-installed air conditioning system can increase the value of your property, making it more attractive to potential buyers.

2. Choosing the Right Air Conditioning System

Selecting the right air conditioning system is crucial for ensuring efficiency and comfort. Several factors need to be considered, including the size of the space, energy efficiency, and budget.

2.1. Types of Air Conditioning Systems

Split-System Air Conditioners: These are the most common types of air conditioners, consisting of an indoor unit and an outdoor compressor. They are ideal for cooling individual rooms or small spaces.

Multi-Split Air Conditioners: Similar to split systems but with the ability to connect multiple indoor units to a single outdoor compressor, making them suitable for cooling multiple rooms.

Ducted Air Conditioning: This system is designed for whole-house cooling, with a central unit connected to ducts that distribute cool air throughout the home.

Portable Air Conditioners: These are standalone units that can be moved from room to room. They are ideal for temporary cooling solutions or smaller spaces.

Hybrid Air Conditioners: These systems combine a heat pump with a traditional air conditioner, providing both cooling and heating capabilities.

2.2. Energy Efficiency

Energy efficiency is a crucial factor to consider when choosing an air conditioning system. Look for systems with high SEER (Seasonal Energy Efficiency Ratio) ratings, as they consume less energy to cool your home. Modern air conditioning systems are designed with energy-saving features such as programmable thermostats, variable speed compressors, and eco-friendly refrigerants.

2.3. Sizing Your Air Conditioner

Proper sizing is essential for the efficient operation of your air conditioning system. An undersized unit will struggle to cool your space, leading to increased energy consumption and wear and tear. On the other hand, an oversized unit will cool the space too quickly, resulting in frequent cycling on and off, which can reduce the system's lifespan. It's advisable to consult a professional HVAC technician to perform a load calculation to determine the appropriate size for your air conditioner.

3. Installation Process

Proper installation is critical to the performance and longevity of your air conditioning system. A poorly installed system can lead to inefficiencies, higher energy bills, and frequent breakdowns.

3.1. Choosing a Professional Installer

Hiring a qualified and experienced installer is essential for ensuring that your air conditioning system is set up correctly. Look for installers who are certified by recognized industry bodies and have positive reviews from previous clients. A professional installer will assess your home, recommend the best system for your needs, and ensure that the installation complies with local building codes and regulations.

3.2. Installation Steps

Site Assessment: The installer will assess the space to determine the best location for the indoor and outdoor units, taking into account factors such as airflow, noise levels, and aesthetics.

Mounting the Indoor Unit: The indoor unit is mounted on the wall, typically near the ceiling, to allow for efficient air distribution.

Installing the Outdoor Unit: The outdoor unit is placed on a stable surface, usually on the ground or mounted on a wall bracket. It should be located in a well-ventilated area, away from direct sunlight and obstructions.

Connecting the Units: The indoor and outdoor units are connected using refrigerant lines, electrical wiring, and a condensate drain line.

System Testing: Once the installation is complete, the installer will test the system to ensure it is operating correctly and efficiently.

4. Maintenance and Troubleshooting

Regular maintenance is essential for keeping your air conditioning system running smoothly and efficiently. Neglecting maintenance can lead to reduced performance, higher energy bills, and costly repairs.

4.1. Routine Maintenance Tasks

Filter Replacement: The air filter should be replaced or cleaned regularly to ensure proper airflow and maintain indoor air quality.

Cleaning the Coils: The evaporator and condenser coils can accumulate dirt and debris over time, reducing the system's efficiency. Regular cleaning is necessary to keep the coils in good condition.

Checking the Refrigerant Levels: Low refrigerant levels can cause your system to work harder, leading to increased energy consumption and potential damage to the compressor. A professional technician should check and top up the refrigerant as needed.

Inspecting the Ductwork: If you have a ducted system, it's important to inspect the ductwork for leaks, blockages, or damage that could affect airflow.

System Calibration: Ensure that the thermostat and other controls are properly calibrated for accurate temperature regulation.

4.2. Common Issues and Troubleshooting

Poor Cooling Performance: If your air conditioner is not cooling effectively, it could be due to a clogged filter, low refrigerant levels, or a malfunctioning compressor.

Unusual Noises: Strange noises such as rattling, buzzing, or grinding could indicate loose parts, debris in the system, or a failing motor.

Water Leaks: Water leaking from the indoor unit could be caused by a blocked condensate drain line or a problem with the evaporator coil.

Frequent Cycling: If your system is turning on and off frequently, it may be oversized, or there could be an issue with the thermostat or refrigerant levels.

5. Cost Considerations

The cost of installing and maintaining an air conditioning system in Essex can vary depending on several factors, including the type of system, the size of your home, and the complexity of the installation.

5.1. Installation Costs

Split-System Air Conditioners: Installation costs for split systems can range from £1,000 to £2,500, depending on the brand, size, and complexity of the installation.

Ducted Air Conditioning: Ducted systems are more expensive, with installation costs ranging from £5,000 to £10,000 or more, depending on the size of the system and the layout of your home.

Portable Air Conditioners: Portable units are the most affordable option, with prices ranging from £200 to £600. However, they do not offer the same level of cooling efficiency as fixed systems.

5.2. Running Costs

The running costs of an air conditioning system depend on its energy efficiency, the size of the space being cooled, and how often the system is used. On average, you can expect to pay between £30 and £60 per month to run a split-system air conditioner during the summer months.

6. Eco-Friendly Air Conditioning Options

With growing concerns about climate change and energy consumption, many homeowners in Essex are looking for eco-friendly air conditioning solutions. There are several ways to reduce the environmental impact of your air conditioning system.

6.1. Energy-Efficient Systems

Choosing an energy-efficient system with a high SEER rating is the most effective way to reduce your carbon footprint. Look for systems that use eco-friendly refrigerants such as R-32, which has a lower global warming potential (GWP) than older refrigerants like R-410A.

6.2. Solar-Powered Air Conditioning

Solar-powered air conditioning systems are becoming increasingly popular as they allow homeowners to harness renewable energy to cool their homes. While the initial investment is higher, solar-powered systems can significantly reduce your electricity bills and carbon emissions in the long run.

6.3. Smart Thermostats

Installing a smart thermostat allows you to optimize the operation of your air conditioning system by automatically adjusting the temperature based on your preferences and schedule. This can help reduce energy consumption and lower your utility bills.

7. Conclusion

Air conditioning has become an essential part of modern living in Essex, providing comfort and improved air quality in homes and businesses. By understanding the different types of systems available, their benefits, and the importance of proper installation and maintenance, you can make an informed decision that meets your needs and budget. Whether you're looking to install a new system or upgrade an existing one, investing in a high-quality air conditioning system is a smart move that will enhance your comfort and quality of life.

As Essex continues to experience warmer summers and fluctuating weather patterns, the demand for reliable and energy-efficient air conditioning systems will only increase. By staying informed and choosing the right system for your needs, you can ensure that your home remains a cool and comfortable haven, no matter what the weather brings.

For expert advice, installation, and maintenance of air conditioning systems in Essex, don't hesitate to contact a professional service provider. With the right support, you can enjoy the many benefits of air conditioning while minimizing your environmental impact and maximizing your energy savings.

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TMG Plumbing & Disaster Solutions Norwich CT

Due to the abundance of qualified plumbers and repair specialists, property restoration in Norwich, Connecticut is significantly simplified following a disaster. On top of that, these experts are masters in repairing water mains.  

No matter the time of day or night, our licenced plumbers are available 24/7 to help residents in Norwich, CT with any plumbing issue mold removal norwich ct You may rely on us for all your plumbing needs. By reliably meeting all of our clients' deadlines, we have gained their trust. We are a reliable plumbing emergency service that is available 24/7 for Norwich, CT residents. Anyone who might ever be in a jam might call on our plumbing services. Water heater installation and pipe defrosting are two other areas in which we excel. These are just a handful of the many choices provided by our company.  

Tragic floods in Norwich, Connecticut, damaged or destroyed a large number of homes and businesses.  

The multipurpose solutions offered by TMG Plumbing & Disaster Answers have numerous purposes, including assisting with water damage restoration. These results can be viewed from several angles. We are here to help you in the event that your home or company is flooded due to a storm or a broken pipe. You should always be prepared to switch to a backup strategy in case your primary one doesn't work. In order to help you with this important matter, we have the experts you require. The unparalleled level of service we provide is a direct result of the unparalleled level of education and experience of our Norwich, Connecticut, workforce.  

In Norwich, Connecticut, they offer a 24-hour emergency response time in the event of water damage. You are free to contact them at any time if you require any assistance. They hold helping the downtrodden to be a holy duty. Customers can reach them at any time.  

 So what happens now that Norwich, Essex, Connecticut has been devastated?  

The devastating effects of a fire do not go away just because the fire is out. The problem will only become worse if we do nothing. Victims of disasters who have lost their houses or places of work may find that the healing process takes longer.  

Restoring your property to its pre-accident state is a breeze with TMG Plumbing & Incident Solutions. There will be no betrayal of the trust my boss has placed in me. In Norwich, CT, we take part in the restoration process by removing, cleaning, sanitising, and deodorising all items damaged by the fire. If you follow this procedure, getting back to your normal routine after the fire will be a breeze. Following these steps to the letter should allow you to return the damaged area's appearance to its original condition.  

 Mould Extraction Services in Norwich, CT  

You need to take swift action if you discover mould in your house or place of work. We can proceed with our inquiry now that we have this. Your opinion would be greatly appreciated if you could spare a few moments of your day to share it with us. Our mould treatment experts are available 24/7 to help anyone in the Norwich, CT, Rhode Island, or neighbouring CT areas struggling with a mould infestation. We shall make every effort to sanitise and disinfect the affected locations after the occurrence. We hope that more studies will be conducted in this field. Our experts will be there to help you prevent further harm to your house once they eradicate the mould colony. Even after therapy has concluded, participants will have access to this support. A comprehensive inspection of your property is the first step in our investigation.  

In Norwich, Connecticut, there has been a recent explosion of construction and maintenance projects.  

After a devastating catastrophe like the one in Norwich, Connecticut, which knocks down several services, the first priority of recovery efforts should be getting critical services back up and running. In the construction business, you may find a number of providers of this service. The restoration of damaged homes to their original state prior to the disaster is our main priority. Making sure the patient gets their medication is their responsibility. Your home will appear brand new after TMG Plumbing & Disaster Solutions finishes cleaning it. You are now free to do anything you like as these issues have been handled.   

An investigation of the property management firm situated in Norwich, Rhode Island is still continuing.  

The property is now undergoing repairs and maintenance. Every reputable property management firm seems to employ the Norwich CT system Water damage norwich ct Originally, we designed this checklist so that property managers could use more precise data to make better maintenance decisions. Here are a few instances where this type of gratitude has been shown. The only thing you need to maintain your house clean is to clean it thoroughly on a regular basis. The house cleaning services provided by TMG Plumbing & Disaster Solutions are guaranteed for the duration of the agreement.  

Our page has the contact information for a restoration company in Connecticut in case you ever need their services.  

Call the family-run company TMG Plumbing and Catastrophe Answers if you reside in the Norwich, Connecticut region and are in need of plumbing services or disaster recovery. The quality of our service is not compromised by our affordable costs. If you live in Norwich, Connecticut and have a plumbing emergency, our firm is here for you around the clock. Natural disasters such as floods, fires, and mildew fall under this umbrella. Our number one goal is to eliminate these dangers. Thanks to our education and expertise, we are positive that we can not only fulfil but also exceed your expectations. To top it all off, we are experts in getting rid of mould. If you really want something bad enough, you can achieve it. Customers' faith in us and continued patronage are invaluable. We will prioritise their needs before our own. We promise to treat your home or business with the respect and care that it deserves. We shall carry out this strategy.