About Mr. and Mrs. Brenchley
Mr and Mrs Brenchley are renowned and deprecated in equal measure from New Caledonia in the West to Formosa in the East.* Impeccably dressed and shockingly outré in their behaviours, they arrive unannounced and depart without warning, taking their welcome for granted, leaving disturbance in their wake. They may be discovered playing hoop-la at an archbishop’s garden party or bouzouki at the Grand Turk’s investiture, drinking champagne in an Oxford punt or gin in a Californian airship, debating in Arabic on camelback across the Empty Quarter or in Mandarin on a junk out of Surabaya. Their hospitality is legendary, their company deplorable, their lure irresistible. They are known to have met in a tomb: whether as archaeologists or grave-robbers is less clear. It is said that they are wanted by the authorities on three continents, and not wanted at all on the other two. A word to the wise: they are frequently mistaken for each other.
* In Australia and its environs, they are not spoken of.