Agatha Armitage: Letter Thirteen

Featuring a four-storey cafe, mushrooms and a hardware shop.

Dear Friend,

On my walk this morning, I stumbled across a charming coffee shop just five minutes from my house (don’t ask me how I only noticed it today… It’s four-storeys high, covered in flashing green lights, and there’s a flailing, inflatable pineapple on the roof… but, in fairness to me, I only just got new glasses).

Of course, like anyone, I love the excitement of a menu (even if I do only seem to ever order earl grey), and when I saw “mushroom coffee” on the menu, I was more than a little intrigued (which is to say I was BESIDE MYSELF with curiosity… and I knew this because I have a peculiar habit of tap-dancing when intrigue takes hold).

Unfortunately for me, however, the mushroom coffee was completely sold out (the Bottlecap Society was at the cafe for their Christmas party, and everyone knows that Bottlecap-enthusiasts love mushrooms…).

So, after a quick (and rather underwhelming) pot of earl grey tea, I really had no choice but to go foraging for some mushrooms of my own. Thankfully, I am an expert in mushrooms (I’m especially good at keeping them calm, which is a skill few persons apparently possess… the man at Morrisons thinks its an aura thing).

Now unfortunately for me, the Fungi Foragers had been, and those foragers are RUTHLESS. There was not a single mushroom left in the entire woodland. All I found was a useless diamond necklace. I fed this to the pond, of course, in hopes that it would give me some mushrooms in return, but the pond did not (this time, at least) respond… In hindsight, maybe I should have asked a river instead. You know what they say: never ask a pond for a favour unless you have a breadstick in your pocket.

I left the woodland with damp sleeves and no mushrooms in my basket (I say ‘basket’, but I really should say ‘milk pail’ because the basket in question was made from metal and once used to hold milk… I say basket only because it sounds right in the sentence, and sounding ‘right’ can sometimes be suitable grounds for lying, especially when you are writing). But, dear friend, I am no quitter… the fox tells me that ‘Agatha Armitage’ in vulpine means ‘liable to quitting’, and I refuse to prove him right!

With no mushrooms, there was only one thing to do. In Italy, there are pigs trained to detect truffles — and truffle, if you didn’t know, is a mushroom. All I had to do was find a pig.

Thankfully for me, my local Hardware Shop is also a Pig Dealership. The owner has received quite the backlash apparently. Critics say that Hardware Shop attendees are usually looking for nails and bolts instead of pigs — but I think it seems quite sensible… After all, pigs are famously good carpenters. I’m sure they would happily advise customers of wood-length if they took the time to learn porcine (which is also now available on Duolingo, so they really have no excuse).

There was no little bell on the shop door which meant I had to ring my own (I always keep a bell in my pocket for such emergencies).

“One pig please,” I said loudly, which seemed to amaze the owner immensely (I know he was amazed, because he jumped up onto the counter and shouted ‘this is amazing!’ until a shopper asked him to please be quiet).

Apparently - can you believe it?! - they hadn’t sold a SINGLE pig since they started this venture twelve months before.

Like all good hardware shops, this one had a field at the back (useful for when new DIYers invariably get angry at their poor workmanship and want to throw their creation as far as it will go), and in this Hardware field were two pigs. They were surprisingly quiet (surprising because if I were a pig, I would snort at every opportunity. You must admit it is an incredibly satisfying sound).

“You only have two pigs?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Well, two pigs please.”

Illustration by the wonderful Chris Riddell.

As I left, I saw the owner paste a large red SOLD OUT over the pig advertisement, so I am sorry if you were planning to go and retrieve one of your own, but I couldn’t exactly leave one there alone now, could I?”

That was this afternoon, and we are now sat waiting for our boat, having enjoyed a delicious supper of soybeans (they insisted, and it was actually surprisingly nice.).

I shall update you when we reach Italy.

Your friend,

Agatha

This extraordinary illustration by Chris Riddell.