Agatha Christie

I did feel that if Agatha Christie had been at dinner last night, it would not have caused much comment ( well other than she has been dead for sometime). I was at a dinner party at Wiveton Hall in Norfolk, a stunning yet rambling house near the coast. Our host could not have been more charming, and his guests were a very ecletic group, who appeared one at a time from some part of the garden or house. First a man from Kabul, who was involved in hush hush work, then a make up artist, Emma Bridgewater the famous potter( her daughter was at prep school with my son). Then a stunning French Morrocan, a writer, a jewellry designer, Paddy the perfect equerry to rich foreigners in London, and a grandson of Lord Delemere. A few children of various ages came and went, dinner was delicous, local crab and homegrown raspberries. A perfect English summer s evening, other than it was pretty cold, and so the huge log fire was lit once the sun had gone down.
I do hope we have an Indian Summer.