Last weekend I stayed at Eastwell Manor for the purposes of dastardly moid-er. I hasten to write that I wasn’t the guilty party, I can’t even kill spiders and I would fold like a soufflé in an airing cupboard under questioning. But what I lack in criminal chutzpah I more than make up for in dogged detective work. I’m basically a licensed PI. I mean, I can solve any Jonathan Creek in a flash.
I won’t go in to the intricacies of the murder mystery itself, because A. it would be dull – like hearing about someone else’s dream and B. it would ruin it for anyone wishing to attend. But the grounds looked beautiful during my blustery Sunday morning amble, so I thought I would share them.
Found a secret garden.
Oh and in case you were wondering dear reader, we won. Obvs.
*I may or may not have had a crime fighting sidekick.