Summer is here, and that means I’m getting to urge to go for a dip in a flower bath.
When you’re quite disgustingly rich, like I am, you do get these sorts of urges. Last year I just got a strange craving to fill up the pool with begonias and go for a swim. No water, mind you…just begonias. I quite like how I walk around for days afterwards with a lovely fragrance. People say to me, “Pondelia, you smell divine! You simply must tell us what perfume you use. Is it Paavo Lindberg, the recluse who lives in the mountains of Finland and only makes one new blend of perfume every sixteen years? Oh, do tell us, Pondelia!”
I simply give them a disgusted look, as if their presence offends me, and move to talk to someone else at the party. No one must know my flower bath secret. It’s the only way to harness the fresh, natural fragrance all over.
Of course, the secret lies in the growing of the flowers here, on my estate. They must be freshly cut, which is why last year I had my team of gardeners plant several fields of just begonias: so they could be harvested, and there would be enough to fill my indoor swimming pool. This year? Oh, even with planting season upon me, I cannot decide. Anemones are lovely, and they have such a gorgeous scent. But I’m not sure I can face the pressure of saying that name, over and over. At some point I’m going to slip up and switch around the letters, and that would be showing weakness in front of the hired help. Tulip bulbs are fragrant enough, of course, but an uncomfortable shape in which to swim. Perhaps if I had the petals taken off the flower…
No, I have it. Amaryllis! Belladonna lillies; ‘beautiful lady’ flowers, for a beautiful lady such as myself, and only for me.
I shall order several fields at once, in a delicate shade of pink. Just in time for Whitehall Chamber’s Summer Ball!