Confidence

Tis Sir Guestling and Sir Guestling is the name.
Now I am, some would say, not a modest man, I have an inflated view of my own importance. There maybe some truth to that but I would point out that these are traits that are misinterpreted and are really just confidence. When one is in the diplomacy business, it behoves a person to behave and act as though one is in full charge of what one is doing. There might be flapping going on below the water line but above it must be calm, clear and confident. I have always been confident or able to radiate it even if inside I am bricking it! Over time you become what you portray and experience teaches you how to handle given situations.
Let me give you an example.
In Paris at my last posting as Ambassador, I received a message from the foreign office asking me to meet with the French fisheries control. Now I freely admit I knew and know little about big offshore fishing, trawlers and all that but there is no way I would go into such a conference without having the basic facts. The French, naturally, wanted their quotas increased the UK did not. My task was to stall their progress so as Britain could protect our own position. Partners in Europe we maybe but self-interest does not disappear and at the time there was a bit of a fuss over the state of  the fishing industry in the UK and jobs were being lost, communities affected.
The French representatives were not chuffed about meeting the British Ambassador, they wanted to meet with the ministry and get things moving. The key to meeting with representatives of any industry is to learn enough to get you by but not to much as to appear an expert. You fill in the blanks by nodding sagely  and picking up cues from what you are being told. It also helps to have a Pomfrey in the room standing silently in the background.
The French are all quiet charm when they first meet with you if the agenda progresses they way they wish they remain polite and soft spoken but if things do not go their way things can get quite heated with galic charm disappearing rapidly, arms begin to gesticulate, fingers wag and shoulders shrugging!
There were five delegates, all men. Sure enough the discussion got off to a gentle start everyone cordial and polite but then when it became obvious that things were not progressing to their liking, the heat turned up and demands were made, the volume rose and the body language became more animated . A Mr Labern, who seemed to be in charge was the most vocal on their objective, which was to open immediate talks with the British fisheries agency. I sat quietly, a serious expression on my visage, as they made these points, got Pomfrey to replenish any refreshments and sat back until the storm of rhetoric calmed. I doubt if I can recall all that was said, my french is ok and their mixture of it with English was a little confusing but that was not the point, I had a job and whatever they proposed, I was going to do it. When they finally settled down Mr Labern looked at me and said
Well Mr Ambassador what do you propose to do?
I cogitated for a moment stroked my beard, took a sip of tea, looked him straight in the eye and replied
Sir, I take on board all you have said and it is obvious that you feel strongly about your position, you have given me plenty to think about and as I am sure you would expect I must now consult with my government to impress upon them the earnestness of your case. Once I have done this I promise you I will inform you in of their decision and that I will endeavour to do this as fast as possible, through the appropriate channels. I think therefore this meeting is concluded, may I thank you for your attendance, your well presented points and I am sure we talk again very soon. Pomfrey would you be so kind as to show these gentleman out?
Five slightly bewildered Frenchman rose and I shook each of their hands as Pomfrey showed them out.
Mission accomplished.
Confident, firm diplomacy the English way!

Pigs and Labour......and oh that middle east!

Hello I am the Sir Guestling and damn right to!
You know many people ask me to comment about current events? Why anyone would need the opinion of a retired diplomat like myself I don't know but there you are. 
Take this current furore about our Prime Minister and his alleged intimacy with a certain animal of the bacon variety, well storm in a teacup if you ask me, even if he did insert his cock in a porker, who bloody cares? Gives him some colour in his otherwise dreary background and after all which of us has not got some weird skeleton lurking somewhere in our back pages? David speaks to me from time to time, if he ever asked about this I'd tell him to big it up, in the modern vernacular, after all that would make his negotiations with other heads of state in Europe a bit more spicy, a man who fucked a dead pig, should not be messed with  eh Mrs Merkel!
Talking of leaders, this new Labour chappy, Corbyn, breath of fresh air, if you ask me, oh I know he's been around for ages, simmering on the back benches but now he is in charge, what a wheeze, he must look in the mirror every day and give a small smug snigger! That will teach you buggers for thinking I was the joke candidate, now look what the party has got! I'm no labour supporter, strictly a servant of whom ever is in power, in the diplomacy game but would it not be refreshing if he actually won a general election? He fooled his own party, who knows if he could not fool the electorate? I don't say he is not credible or serious about his policies, such as they are but a man in his sixties in mismatched clothing and a lefty, priceless!
Now about this migrant, refugee, asylum crisis. I can claim to have some expertise in this area from my days in the diplomatic service. Everywhere I served to a greater or lesser degree it was an issue one had to deal with, not on the current scale but I've dealt with a lot of displaced nationals who are trying to escape an untenable and often dangerous life threatening situation. Let us be clear, every person should have the right, to live in relative peace and want to protect their family and if I  and my family,was in serious danger of death, I'd bloody well want to get out too. It is a tragic and sickening disaster, what is going on in a number of middle east countries, Iraq, Syria, Libya, Palestine etc. human slaughter of the worst kind, crazy men trying desperately to either hang on to power or trying to obtain it, with religious divisions, even between those that are of the same faith. Twas ever thus!
The region has always been a powder keg, especially since the winning powers after WW2 carved things up as they always have done, throughout history. The West's and the rest of the world's, singular, in the main, poor mis-understanding of the tribal, religious, cultural and political nature of these countries has lead to the ever present turmoil that they are experiencing today. I'm not saying that the factions in these countries are not equally responsible for the suffering that goes on or that it might not have happened without our interference but I'm utterly convinced that we have made it 10 times worse. Good things have happened and not all relations between us are bad but I don't think we have helped as much as we have hindered!  The Iraq war of Blair and Bush, well need I say more!
The influx of displaced people from this region will not be solved, without the blindingly obvious, a solution to each country's internal struggles. Unfortunately it is hugely exacerbated by the fact that you cannot negotiate with ISIS or report on the war because they will just behead any reporter or journalist or it seems whomever it pleases them to execute! Complex, tragic, massively difficult, how do you change an ideology, how people think or believe and interpret their faith? It is very hard for most people, to understand how they are using the juxtaposition of modern social media and weapons to establish, what appears to us, as a barbaric middle ages type caliphate! And girls if you are tempted by this regime, think again they have no respect or use for women other than that that man has subjegated you for, over hundreds of years.
It really is a conundrum, shrouded in mystery and all wrapped up in an enigma! 
I will say this about fighting ISIS, you cannot go at it half hearted, if the West is going to bomb them, it is no good trying to be surgical about it, much as it pains me to say it, as a man of peace, they have to be wiped out, obliterated and if the consequences of such action means there will be collateral damage, perhaps that is a regrettable but necessary sacrifice. There is no peace with ISIS and no easy solution, every choice, will destroy peoples lives!
Easy for me to say!
Blimey, got all serious there for a line or two, well nobody said old Guesty was all fun and smiles. If the good lady reads this she'll tell me to keep my opinions to myself and stop being so bloody pretentious!
Guesty, she will say, nobody wants to read your scribblings on this stuff, delusions, you old fool, delusions!
She is probably right, after all opinions are like cocks, every other person has got one, eh! 

It's not all meetings and bone china!

Sir Guestling here
You know having been in Her Majesty's diplomatic service, I had over the years some odd and amusing requests from the many of the people that I've dealt with along the way. One such, was a very wealthy man in deepest Kazakhstan, who in return for shared water rights for a village close by, wanted a shirt and the autograph of all the players of the Plymouth Argyle football club! Apparently his father on his one trip to Britain had ended up watching a match they played and had become an instant fan. He had passed this love of "The Pilgrims"  to his son and though he had never been out of his own country, he followed their exploits and suffered as any fan would with their ups and downs. 
A farmer in a remote village in Kenya, was not keen on a road being built across his land. It was a British company that had won the contract and so we were asked to negotiate with him. Through an interpreter, it became clear that he was quite intransigent and was not going to budge. It seemed there was little he wanted and no inducement, large or small had any effect, in changing his mind. I noticed that he appeared to live alone and could see no evidence of any family, unusual for a land owning Kenyan man. I asked him where his family was and he replied that his wife had left him and that they had not had any children. He was a man of middling years, seemingly good natured, he suddenly smiled broadly, his impossibly white teeth showing, he tugged at my sleeve.
He spoke rapidly to the interpreter, who nodded and turned to me now also smiling. 
Sir, he wants another wife!
Well I joined in the communal smiling, in parts of Kenya it is not unusual for a man to have more than one wife and anyway his had left him. Arrangements were made, wife was found and road was built.
In Washington USA the capital and seat of government, as we all know anything can happen and does so on a daily basis. A more political fast paced arena you will not find anywhere else in the world. The intrigue, corruption and scandal is endemic and the accompanying media frenzy that feeds off of it, is mind boggling. Everyone is making a deal or trying to get something for something as they all endeavour to climb the greasy pole. In spite of this there is humour and genuinely odd moments that one encountered in the course of one's professional service. Britain is inexorably partnered with the USA and nothing is ever likely to change that, so it is always busy. Most Americans are pretty insular and their view of the world somewhat narrow, as far as they are concerned, although they know there are other countries, the States is far to important to know much about them!
A certain Senator, whom I had spent a lot of time with and knew moderately well, lingered after a meeting and when the others involved had left the room, shut the door and turning to me asked if he could discuss something of a personal nature. He explained that his daughter had fallen for an Englishman and she was talking about marrying him. The daughter was relatively young, although of legal age to make such a decision. He thought she was too young to get married anyway but certainly not to this man who his instinct told him not to trust. 
This "limey" who had won my precious little girls affection, as he put it, was up to no good! Guestling can you help me? 
Well I looked into it and it turned out that this "limey" was actual an Aussie and our dear Senator had confused a broad Adelaide accent with us Brits, typical American! He was a fine lad from a prominent family and it seemed it was true love. I contacted the father and informed him he had nothing to concern himself about. 
He's from Adelaide, he exclaimed, where the hell is that in the UK? I made my excuses and gave up!
Another negotiation, in yet another location involved a lady requiring a Rolls Royce and a live goat! Both were duly provided and it is perhaps prudent to gloss over the purpose of this request, suffice it to say that it was slightly on the wrong side of the legal line but a deal was done and diplomacy kept the peace.
I've provided all sorts of other odd items, in order to facilitate the smooth path of negotiation of local and/or international incident. People, animals, cars, boats, food, furniture, electronics, copious quantities of alcohol and tobacco products and many more far more bizarre items, including for one particular couple an entire shipment of erotic sex equipment, which were banned in their strict country.
One man would not budge from his position without every person in our embassy appearing before him and getting on their knees and and genuflecting. Even for the some of my staff this was a step to far and it took some persuasion on my part. 
Yes diplomacy is not all meetings and bone china, you have to get down and dirty sometimes, as they say! 

Sons

Tis me the Guestling.
You know when writing one's adventures it is sometimes easy to miss very important facts. I have introduced a number of the members of my family and many of the people in my life. I have up until now neglected to introduce proudest and most precious achievement, my children. Lady Thorn has always been the light in my life but my sons are the substance and carry the Thorn torch forward into the future. My sons are the only offspring on our generations tree, me and the good ladies siblings have not produced a single child between them.  So without them the tree would have withered and died!
Now you may have thought having read my previous ramblings that Lady Thorn and I had never had time for children but that was my fault for neglecting to write about them.
Somewhere in the hectic and my oft moving career in the world of diplomacy we managed to have two boys and nurture them well enough that they have grown into fine men and have made both their mother and I proud. 
Number one son was born on a Saturday, with all his fingers and toes and everything in the right place and yes I was present at the birth, a very prideful and emotional experience.
We named him, after some debate between his mother and I, Cole Beauregard Randolph Francis Thorn. He has grown into a wonderful chap. Highly intelligent, must be from his mother, a credit to himself and hopefully our parenting skills.
Two years later his brother came into our lives a little sooner than the full gestation period, so keen was he to get himself into the world, gave us a bit of a fright at first, incubators and all that but it turned out fine, though its safe to say he has been going at that speed ever since. We thought long and hard about names, did not help us in the slightest, he is Lucas Aaron Pierce Lennon Thorn.
He like his brother, has grown up to become a fine man. 
Naturally we have had our ups and downs with both of them, boys will be boys and none of us have not been off the rails from time to time but their mother and I could not have brought up two finer specimens of the Thorn clan.
So the family is complete. Of course credit must also go to Pomfrey. When each of them were born, his ever present smile grew into a wide grin and on both occasions it was the only time that I ever saw his composure slip as he danced a little jig upon the news. Pomfrey in many ways, like a kindly Uncle has imbued important values in both of them and guided them in ways that I would not have had the good sound sense to have done. He and Lady Thorn's wise council and no nonsense advice has in great part given them a grounded view of life. 
Me, I hope I have and will continue to help them understand this crazy world, I like to think that I have been the humor and discipline in their upbringing. The one thing I am proud to have imbued in them is their great respect and delight in the company of the opposite sex, equality of all people on this planet, to carry no prejudice, to give everyone a fair chance and when necessary treat anyone abusing those values with sympathy unless there is no other choice but to take action. I am not so foolish to believe that they would not have reached this understanding on their own but I am a firm believer that the child's perception of life comes largely from the environment they grow up in.
They have both met and settled down with lovely partners, wonderful women with whom I hope they will have, as great a long term relationship, as their parents.
I am not a sentimental man, my wife would disagree.
Your a soppy sod Guesty She will often comment but that being said, having children is one of life's great adventures and if it puts a smile on your face, you can't ask for more than that!
Bloody hell, she will call me a soppy sod after reading this!!

Sir Guestling

I am as you have, surmised by now, a knight of the realm. A great honor. I am the first of the Thorn clan to achieve this distinction. It is no great mystery why it was presented to me. It's recognition for my long years of representing Her Majesties Government all over the world, in what I immodestly like to think was a distinguished career in the foreign office. The knighthood was bestowed upon me after four stints as an Ambassador in four separate embassies, a feat, which I understand is unique. 
We were just leaving the last of those four embassies, Paris, where we had been in residence for two years. I had decided to bring my career to an end,the good lady and I had decided that it was time to settle down in Thorn Towers at last and retire from the diplomatic service. 
I was exhausted, Paris may sound like a comfortable and civilized embassy to be the ambassador of but on the contrary it was and is one of the busiest and sometimes most difficult places to practice British diplomacy. En ton cordial and all that we may have but the French can be the most infuriating of people to deal with, however charming they are. Not to mention the succession of other nationalities within our great European union, that one had to handle. France is a big player in the European community, there is a lot to do, with endless meetings, functions, events and people whom you have to meet. The UK is always sending lots of requests for all sorts of business they wish taken care of and so it had proved to be one of my toughest appointments. Lady Guestling, as she was about to become, played her full part to, I can tell you it is almost impossible to run an embassy without the help and support of your better half and of course I also had the faithful Pomfrey to look after me. Pomfrey would act as a butler when we had formal occasions. His subtle but imposing presence was always a comfort to me and often helped in tricky situations. I am sure that he intimidated many of the representatives, that I had to meet, seeing this silent 6' 7', bearded figure, being attentive in anticipation of everyone's needs, was a home advantage, that I make no excuse for using. I am sure many a visitor, whom may have been getting hot under the collar was put off by the ethereal presence of Pomfrey.

There were perks and Paris can be an exciting and culturally wonderful city, we have since visited it as private citizens and whilst naturally we had the advantage of my previous reputation to smooth the stay, found Paris to be a charming place, if not a little full of it's own importance!
Just before we had packed up ready to leave the embassy, I received a call from a member of the government asking if I would be amenable to receiving an honor in the Queens new year list. Well what does one say at such moments, I could only say yes. A few weeks later a very official letter arrived at our home back in blighty, which informed me that I would be made a Knight of the Realm but that I had to keep it secret until the list was released. Excitement and pride echoed through Thorn Towers and Mrs Thorn went straight out to her dressmaker to get the perfect outfit for the day. Pomfrey smile was more beaming than ever and as usual his comment was profound
Congratulations sir on becoming a Sir but always remember that you are still just Mr Guestling Thorn.
I have always tried to live up to that advice.
On the big day we arrived at the palace and after being briefed on the etiquette of the occasion, I eventually found myself kneeling before the Queen and was duly touched on the shoulder with a ceremonial sword and became Sir Guestling the humble writer of these pages.
So I am now and will forever be Sir Guestling Thorn. 

Advice

Guesty here my friends

Being famous for my sage and wise advice on a variety of subjects, from art to zoology and everything in between, I find that one has to be prepared to guide on almost anything. Naturally I do not claim to be knowledgeable on all the myriad of requests, that I receive letters about but I am jolly well ready to have a go at answering them! 
My replies are always brief and simple and I like to think I go directly to the heart of the matter. Correspondents are in the main requesting advice on how to handle some form of relationship or inter personnel issue, whatever the context might be. They know my reputation as an ex-diplomat and are keen for me to help resolve their everyday difficulties. 

You know us humans seem to have a knack for making stuff, more complicated than it needs to be, we over analyse, dissect and generally find extra ways to cock up an already uncomfortable situation, we really can make a drama out of a crisis!  
This is particularly true of the English, we are a nation who rather than offend anyone, no matter what the provocation, will do almost anything else and as for complaining, well we would rather cut off our own hand!

Perhaps this explains why us Brits make such excellent diplomats! 

Now I appreciate that that is a rather general sweeping statement and many of you reading this do not take that view or behave that way but we don't have a international reputation for the old stiff upper lip for nothing!

Let me illustrate. 
A young male student wrote to me regarding a tutor who was finding ways of keeping after him after her lectures and making not too subtle suggestions of a sexual nature. She was not an unattractive lady and had a reputation for advances of this nature to male students but had never been challenged, some had succumbed to her advances perhaps thinking this would enhance their chances. It made him feel uncomfortable and although in a way he was flattered, he did not want the attention and did not know how to resolve the situation without upsetting her and harming his chances in her lectures. In short he was prepared to endure and avoid her rather than speak up.  

My reply was straight to the point, there were two things he could do. One, call her bluff, if bluff it was and if she was not bluffing, then who knows he might have a great time, though naturally this was fraught with danger. Two, tell her straight that her attention was inappropriate and and make it crystal, to cease, firmly, politely and without any ambiguity. 

Now I have no way of knowing whether he took my advice and used it or if he is still in an awkward situation but my point is resolution can only be achieved by facing the issue and addressing it directly with the person or persons involved. Prevarication or avoidance in my experience only exacerbates the problem, it gets worse, more awkward and resolution becomes more and more difficult. The Guestling way is to nip it in the bud. 

Lady Guestling has a succinct way of expressing it.

It's like a boil Guesty she will say Lance it and let the poison out!

Well you can't say fairer than that, wise woman my wife.  

You never know!

In my time in the diplomatic service I have had a variety of postings in many places, where Her Majesties Government has an embassy's or some type of diplomatic representation. In my early years I seemed to move about quite often, newly married and with the faithful Pomfrey, we seemed to be packing and unpacking our belongings at regular intervals. When you are young, it seems exciting and adventurous and I have always been one to embrace change, to my great delight it seemed that Lady Guestling was of like mind and whilst she knew she had married a man in the diplomatic service, fortunately, took to the life like a fish to water. 
Often you would find yourself stationed with both new people and those whom you had served with in other locations. Sometimes a familiar face was a blessing, if it was someone who you liked or at least got along with but occasionally you would have the misfortune to reacquaint with someone who you hoped you might never meet again! 
Like any profession the diplomacy game has a cross section good and bad but there does seem to be a preponderance of pompous buffoons who somehow have managed to make a career in the service. Mostly men, the odd female, they strut about in a superior way making gaffs and generally thinking they are more capable than they are, usually leaving a mess which their colleagues have to clear up. Now and then you get a particularly nasty piece of work, who is not necessarily a bad diplomat but seem to reserve the worse side of their personality exclusively for those they work with.
One such was Viscount Percy Haldean. Haldean was the son of some minor royalty from out of Somerset. The family were large landowners,though they did no more than manage their holdings and it had made them very wealthy. When their youngest Percy showed no apptitude for the family business and had apparently committed some terrible  fo par, they persuaded a relative already in the service to get Percy in.
I first came across him, when posted to our German embassy in Berlin, this was still in the cold war days and there was a delicacy and sometimes a real danger in the work done there. Percy is a little older than me and had been in the service for a few years already. I first met him in a formal meeting with the East German representative's over some border dispute, which were common and as I discovered, part of the local game that the East and West played. I have to say that my first impression was favourable, Percy seemed to be the epitome of the British diplomat, polite, firm and with just the right tone of diplomatic language. I was still very young and impressionable and very much keen to "get on", so I thought I could learn from Percy. Later that week I had occasion to find myself alone with him and in a friendly way, introduced myself formally and just mentioned that I liked the way he had handled the meeting. Well imagine my surprise, when this "colleague" looked at me with total contempt as though I was something he had found on his shoe.
Your opinion is of no import to me young man and I'll thank you to keep your them to yourself. Now I have work to do I suggest you do to? Was his terse reply.
From that point onward, it seemed that Percy was nothing but antagonistic towards me. Putting me down at any opportunity and generally being thoroughly obnoxious. His sarcasm could be cutting and being young and truthfully a little intimidated, I was unable to reply in kind. I hardly noticed that he did not reserve his behaviour exclusively towards me and with the exception of those senior to him was like it with almost everyone. Because of his presence I did not enjoy my time and could not wait to be transferred elsewhere, fortunately after six months I moved on.   
Well shortly after our marriage and having arrived at my next posting, imagine how my heart sank, when on my first day of duty I was being introduced to my colleagues, mostly new to me, a couple I had met before, when who should walk in the room but Percy Haldean. It had been a few years since Berlin but I could see he recognised me and I swear a small evil smile crossed his face.
When I returned to our bungalow that evening, I was quite subdued. My darling wife asked me what was wrong, at first I did not want say but she persisted and I had already learnt that when she wanted to find something out, she did not let go until you told her. 
Her solution was simple, as it has been ever since and as I have mentioned I like simple, look him straight in the eye, stand up to him and tell him exactly what you think of his behaviour! 
Well emboldened by this plain speaking advice I determined to do just that, should the occasion arise. For some weeks we did not encounter each other and I began to quite enjoy the posting, I had been given the special task of concentrating on commercial opportunities for British firms and found myself meeting with many of the local business community. This often took me away from the Embassy and I got the chance to understand how the people actually lived and worked. I've always been a great one for immersing oneself in the local culture,it broadens the mind and in the diplomacy business is a distinct advantage. I was always amazed when I used to meet people who had been in a location for some time and yet seemed to be ignorant of the country they served in! 
However, returning one evening after a latish meeting, I found myself alone in the communication office, when who should walk in but old Percy himself. He looked tired and for him, unkempt and disheveled. At first he did not appear to notice me but then he in a resigned manner he spoke 
Sometimes this bloody job is a fucking pain!
I was completely shocked, I'd never heard anything but personnel sarcasm from him before and had never heard him swear
I'm sorry old man, tough day?
He slumped down in a chair 
If you look in the third draw down of Smethringtons desk you'll find a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Pour a couple out will you?
I did as asked.
We sat in silence sipping our snifters
I know you always thought I'm a bastard He smiled ruefully over the rim of his glass
I nodded 
A bit I replied
You don't have to be diplomatic 
Percy laughed at his own pun, first time I'd seen him do that as well.
I know what most people think of me 
He paused and drained his glass held it out and I obliged. 
It's a front you see, a shield if you will, my way of coping with the day to day task, I don't mean to alienate everyone, just seems to be my way! Well after the day I've had the shield has slipped but that's deal in this job,eh?
We talked for quite some time and I found him to be in reality a rather self depreciating, shy man, who found it difficult to fit in. I ended up inviting him back to our bungalow for dinner, Mrs Thorn was somewhat taken aback but she rose to the occasion with her usual good grace.
Percy and I became friends of a sort, oh he still could be cuttingly sarcastic but I knew the real man and understood some of his character.
We remained friends for many years and kept in touch in the way that Englishmen do, until his untimely death from cancer some ten years ago. I went to the funeral and was gratified to find that far from the poor turnout that I expected, many of the people he had worked alongside were there to pay their last respects. 
It seems you should never judge a book by it's cover and none of us are who we appear to be!

What's in a name?

Tis Sir Guestling again. Who else?
I am today off to what one might call the Thorn's spiritual home. I speak of the village of, yes, Guestling Thorn! Nestling in Sussex, it is situated between Hastings and Rye. And you are correct when you ask if I was named because of the village, indeed I was.
The reason is simple, my Grandfather Randolph Thorn, when a young man committed a rather serious social gaff, which necessitated a brief sojourn away from London life, when a particular family patriarch was intent on visiting much harm against him. Naturally a young lady was involved. The details are a tiny bit sketchy and I never could get the full story out of Grampy but the gist goes something along these lines.
Randolph was, like most of the male line of Thorns, when younger, was a bit of a rake. He had his eye on a young society beauty, who was by all accounts already spoken for and engaged to the son of a wealthy banker, whom her father was desperate to get his family related too. The mans finances had taken a bit of a down turn and he saw this as an opportunity to re-build them. The banker, in turn, was keen on the influence and contacts he had, so a mutual understanding had been agreed.
This mattered not a jot to Grampy, engaged or not, once he had his sights set, he went at his target with a one track mind. Of course he had no conception of the full consequences of his actions and the pact he would destroy by pursuing this girl, he wanted her and he was bound and  determined to get her.
Eventually he manipulated a situation where he could get her alone and once he had, his charm and that devilish twinkle in his eye did the rest. By the time I was old enough to get to know Grampy, though now in his late sixties he still had roguish good looks and a lazer like instinct for spotting a well turned ankle or the sway of the hips, the curve of a well formed female form! All male Thorn's have great respect for women, indeed we revere them and we appreciate their beauty!
Anyway back to the story, his dalliance ruined the match as the fiance of the girl refused to have anything more to do with her after he found out. Her father was so incensed that he threatened to have serious injury done to Randolph and his threat was taken seriously, very seriously. At the time relatives of the Thorns, the Stodards were living in Kent in Guestling Thorn. A small village south of Hastings, it is a pleasant place, close by is Guestling Green and just south of the two Guestling's is Icklesham followed by Winchelsea and then Rye.
The young Randolph was packed off to stay with the Stodards, Bert and Alicia, he did not like the idea but it was better than broken limbs! Bert and Alicia were given strict instructions to keep Grampy on the straight and narrow and not let him return until the whole affair had blown over.
The bright lights of London were left behind and the dullness of country life seemed to be all that stretched before him or so it seemed until on a walk through the village, as he turned a corner a vision appeared in front of him, a girl of stunning good looks, who immediately smiled at him and said hello. Randolph had met his future wife and my Grandmother, Victoria.
They had two children the first, my Aunt, Claudia and a couple of years later my father Albert Cecil Francis Thorn, the names chosen for his father and her mother.
Randolph and Victoria were married for sixty years and although Grampy never lost his roving eye he never strayed from his vows to Grandma.
So you ask how did I become Guestling? Simple really, just before I was expected, in tribute to the village where he met the future Mrs Thorn, Grampy asked a boon of my father, would he name me for that village, to honor his meeting Grandma there, after all, as the name went together so well, it was fate he said. Mother was not so keen but acquiesced after Grampy appealed to her better nature.
And so Guestling is my name and my name is Guestling but then what,s in a name?