The Diary of Rikkard Ambrose

VI

Wednesday, 31st December, 1834 (continued)
1o.41. I shall hitherto explain what happened at the start of yesterday evening. Linton woke up c. 23.33 to change. Naturally, this created complications as it was bitterly cold. Let it just be known that we found ways to keep warm and Linton never did change her clothes. Linton has now changed her clothes.
12.34. We are very nearly at our destination. It is snowing, so there will be ice to impede the journey, but that is a mere obstacle. We will be on time.
13.13. Linton isn't talking to me. He is uncharacteristically quiet. I do not know whether to show feign concern or enjoy the silence.
13.31. Linton wishes to know what I am writing. I have told him to go back to his sandwich. He was more than happy to do so.
15.15. We have arrived. We are late. Karim is unpacking the bags and complaining about the cold. Linton is unaware of what his words mean and thus repeats exactly what Karim is saying. I have given Linton my coat (yes, I bought one, sue me).
16.24. It has been an eventful reunion. My giver-of-life still hugs everyone she meets. She also broke into sobs when she heard I had "married" without her knowing. My whole band of relations is here. It's awful. My fraternal companions, Horacio and Nathan, are here and Horacio has brought his wife, Eleanor. My cousin, Tilly and her parents are also present. My one solace is my niece, Octavia. Everyone else calls her Vi. I, however, do not believe in such ridiculous nicknames. She is terribly stubborn and a force not be reckoned with at a formidable three feet tall. I believe I have done something I never do: warmed to her. Another minor detail I have not yet mentioned: mother has put Linton and myself in the same room. There is no getting around the matter without "blowing our cover" as Linton so eloquently put it. I hear Octavia coming (we are play "hide and seek"). I must go.

16.33. Octavia is sleeping. She did not find me. Let it be known that I, Rikkard Ambrose, won "hide and seek" against a five-year-old. She did not seem to care. Linton and Eleanor, however, did. I am having to call Linton by it's real name. It is a struggle. More people are arriving at the estate and I am about to broach the matter of business for which I have come with my
16.35. You-know-what, book.
17.00. She did not understand that I would not inherit my title. I have convinced her, however, to let it pass to Nathan. He is more than pleased. It's gross. I have stolen away to eat chocolate and work on my mixtape. Thusfar it includes: the four seasons and a piece to which Linton and I danced in Egypt - Sonata No. 8 in C Minor for Piano. I am not a sentimental man. 
17.28. Lillian is coming and I am about to change for dinner, this is not good timing. I shall be quick. And yes, I am changing for dinner - my you-know-what decided to provide me with a dinner suit. She knows me far too well.

To be continued...
This particular day is going to take me a while to write, I'm figuring.
How would everyone feel if I started doing half-prose/ half-diary entries from now on? It's getting a bit tricky to write exactly what I want to write about what I want to happen, if that makes sense?
Also, if anyone listens to the YouTube video I attached, I hope you liked it! I couldn't find exactly what I was looking for, but if you're interested, Spotify has the piece mentioned (not sponsored, lol).
(Side note: pls no one comment on the fact that the Victorians didn't have mix tapes ;) - speaking of, what would be yours?)
Anyway, thanks for reading, everyone! Expect more over the weekend. X