44: A woman's best friend

‘Yes, I see. No. He, and a single guest, can book one of the bedrooms for up to four weeks, but if he wants to bring in more guests it has to be on a daily basis as part of an event, pre-booked and organised for. You must say, no but we do have our new conference facilities, the ballroom with seating up to one hundred and thirty, plus the two adjoining seminar rooms, which are both fully wired-up like the ballroom, and one of which could be used as a temporary press room, for interviews via the Internet. As long as he understands there are no permissions to use it like a radio studio. No, you must explain all this, say you’ve consulted, spoken to senior management, and you definitely don’t say it was me. He needs deniability as much as we do. Yes. Speak later.’

‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have heard all that.’

‘Well, actually, sometime in the next few weeks if you bump into your favourite columnist at the Park, you should make friends, show him the ropes, but remember the idea is he tells you stuff, not the other way around. Difficult I know given he’s the one trained to get information out of people, but…’

‘I’d be all tongue tied.’

‘Well offer him a story.’

‘I haven’t got any.’

‘Yes you have! Tell him about matey, our local celebrity chef and his seafood harbour restaurant, he’ll love that. They know all chefs are psychos who always gesture with the hand holding the knife - tell him about all the cod coming from the Baltic! Better still, tell him the seafood only tastes great because the punter is sitting on the harbour.’

‘Oh, right.’

It takes it out of you organising a campaign without appearing to do so. The cognitive load, as the neuroscientists refer to it, is just too much. I found myself thinking out loud; ‘Now, Buffy just makes a single visit, with twenty-four hours’ notice; but Carrie, armed with secret weapon, is booked in for two days door knocking with Rory in the final week, however, we don’t have to worry about accommodation because she still has the cottage behind the Dissipated Kipper. Now then, avoid the fish quay this time because the opposition will just pipe up and say it’s only there because of EU money, where can Buffy and Rory safely go? Charlie!’

‘Leave me out of it.’

‘Just a point of information, that’s all. What was the name of that website that ranked our chippy number one in the South West or whatever?’

‘Why on earth?’

‘I want to give Wooley the headline “PM learns right way to fry chips” but, you know, translated into tabloid speak. Buffy loves anything where he can roll up his sleeves.’

‘Aren’t you in grave danger of getting “Buffy’s Had His Chips”.’

‘Oh my God, are we?’

‘Well, I don’t know, but anyway, according to today’s freesheet, the overpriced ice cream tub is standing again.’

‘What! They must be mad.’

‘Even if they are, they’ll still have learnt something from the last time.’

‘Touché. Whatever we do, we mustn’t follow the same logic as before.’

‘Why are you knocking your pan out over all this?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, gives the little grey cells a thorough workout I suppose, besides this is the easy bit, next I have to convince Prudence to convince Rory that he dreamed all this up!’

‘You’re this Tony guy, right? Don Wooley, The Beacon.’

‘Are yes of course, I have a close personal friend who reads you all the time.’

‘The Valette, I’ve met her, you’re a class act, so I’m told.’

‘Well thank you.’

‘I can’t believe my proprietor has cleared your invoice for exclusive use of your dinky new conference facility for four whole weeks, plus a room for me and my partner. More palatial than Buck House itself.’

‘Well, it is somewhat older.’

‘Ha! Effortless. And still we vote for Her Madge.’

‘Well, if you could just see your way to a post-Brexit trade deal, you’re welcome to throw Charlie boy overboard. Drink?’

‘I thought you’d never ask. I’ve just been trying to get the raspberry ripple over here for an interview, he turned me down.’

‘Fascinating, I’ve been on the lookout for him or any of his lieutenants for some time, assuming they would try and infiltrate in order to have a pop at us.’

‘Perhaps he thinks if he steps across the portal, he’ll become tainted.’

‘That’s a point, instead of actually learning anything about their opposition, they’d rather remain in ignorance for fear of losing their reputation for ideological purity.’

‘I doubt they’re even conscious of where their beliefs come from mate!’

As soon as we were informed of Buffy’s second official flying visit, we decamped to the Park immediately. Early the following morning Charlie and I set-up a one-way system in the house to marshal police, government security, party HQ campaign staff, the media and the politicians themselves. She asked; ‘Will any members be allowed in today?’

‘In theory, yes.’

‘Well, I’m supposed to be leading the final wood patrol!’

‘Ah. Er, I’d try and meet them in the carpark, do it all outside. Only the PM’s security detail can actually physically bar their way. They’ll just get friendly advice from the police, it’s only if they get stroppy in reply that they may be in trouble.’

‘I might try and prime them by text.’

‘Ah, there you are Anthony. Is it me? I’ve the distinct impression I’m watching the retreat from Moscow!’

‘Oh, I see what you mean Prime Minster.’ Buffy was staring out of the window of the veranda bar, morning coffee in hand. It was a slightly mystical winter scene, the spoil from the landscaping gave it the feel of a battlefield. Crossing our vision, half in silhouette, was a handcart piled high with chopped wood - or perhaps it was bodies - pulled by four men distinctly bowed by the exertion. Behind them followed a relaxed loping female figure, casually dangling her chainsaw.

‘My God man, what’s your sergeant major been doing to them?!’

‘Give’m hell Charlie!’

‘You didn’t need to be so rough with Tufnell. I suggested something romantic, didn’t I?’

‘You did indeed. I set him off on the trail of the Lady Vic.’

‘The Herring? I thought she’d joined the art connois-sewers?’

‘She has, opened a gallery on the harbour side. Tuffy is her self-appointed goffer.’

‘Ha! Get him married off, he’s been a millstone round your neck too long.’

‘Er, thank you Prime Minister, how’s Carrie?’

‘Very optimistic about the North. She’s been bounding up and down dale with Fluffy?’

‘Who?’ I said, feigning ignorance.

‘Fluffy the Downing Street dog.’

‘What breed?’

‘Terrier of course.’

‘May one enquire why you’re skulking here and not out there pressing the flesh?’

‘Taking an hour out to give Wooley his exclusive. He’s behaving himself, is he?’

Alas I have but second-hand reports with which to recount Carrie’s visit. At around lunchtime on the first day, I was preceding down the long ground floor corridor at the Park when from behind came that voice, so reminiscent of Aunt Elisabeth; ‘Anthony! Half a tick.’

‘Prudence, how may I be of service?’

‘I’ve been side-lined by Trumpton’s live-in girlfriend and it’s all your doing.’

‘She’s here in her capacity as a professional persuader.’

‘Well, she’d better be good. She spent an hour this morning alone with Rory. He said they were just rehearsing, but she’s got this thing about her, like you and Charlotte, that disarming thing, makes one feel like it’s hopeless to resist, hypnotic or whatever.’

‘Presence, charm, charisma?’

‘Creepy more like.’

‘Oh, come on, you spend half your life coaching Rory, it’s the secret of his success.’

‘Yes, but not like that.’

‘So, you saw some of it.’

‘Well, just a bit. Rory is meant to say; “Just calling around because I thought you might like to meet the PM’s fiancé and their darling new companion Fluffy”. And then, the constituent will apparently make a joke about how Buffy and Fluffy must be a bit of a handful, to which she replies by winking at the same moment as patting her tummy!’

43: Deal or no deal

‘Parcel delivery, sir.’

‘I haven’t ordered anything.’

‘Perhaps someone’s been viewing your wish lists.’

‘I don’t have any.’

‘I’ll open it for you if you like.’

‘No, no, that’s alright.’ I was damned if I was going to give her the satisfaction. I poked and prodded as I got to work with the scissors. It felt suspiciously like clothing. Instead of hovering in mild agitation, there was a definite attempt to suppress the lopsided smirk. ‘What the… I see, don’t tell me, we’re moving to a new stage of the programme.’

‘It’ll take ten years off you.’

‘The track suit bit is for outside I take it.’

‘We need to get you at least capable of running for a bus - without doing yourself an injury.’

Charlie’s programme consisted of making use of the Park golf course whilst it was out of commission to members. ‘Jog a bit, sprint a bit, jog a bit more. Rest.’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Jog for twenty, sprint for ten, jog for twenty, stop. Get it?’

‘And I get to count at my own rate?’

‘Never fails.’

‘Really? Surely people just count faster and head for the early shower.’

She moved in close. ‘Women aren’t attracted to the money; it’s the ambition, the get up and go! Blokes on the make often pull as well as the already accomplished. You just have to be seen to be going places and enjoying it. Anything gravity defying is joyful.’

‘Okay, coach.’

I had hoped our exertions had been more or less private, but as we passed outside the veranda bar, en route to the bathrooms at the back of the spa, we were diverted. There were people waving at us, a few had raised champagne glasses. Someone opened the glass door and gestured. Reluctant to enter in my hot and sweaty state, nonetheless I obliged. I turned to Cat Mackintosh; ‘The atmosphere is positively raucous, I see from that silent tv screen Buffy is making some sort of a statement, has the Brexit withdrawal deal been done then?’

‘Oh never mind that. We’re celebrating our deal. I counted it all up, five hundred and eight days since the Televised Sport Advisory Sub-committee to the Dining Committee was set up, our final report should be in your inbox now.’

‘The protocol for tv at the club? Done? Well blow me. I thought it would take you all at least two years.’ I patted my pockets, searching for my mobile device, securely attached to me somehow, gathering the fitness activity data insisted upon by Charlie. After some ferreting. ‘Only fifteen pages, you’ve shown admirable restraint.’

‘Well, everything became extraordinarily simple once we’d devised, The Cricket Test!’

‘No, don’t tell me, let me digest at leisure, after I’ve had a shower. Carry on, I’m sure you’ve all done very well.’

Before leaving the Park, I ran off a hard copy of the report. I refuse to own a printer on principal these days. I pursued it as I was driven home. ‘Well?’ Asked Charlie.

‘Well what?’

‘This is all bound to involve a lengthy briefing, you may as well make a start.’

‘Er, um, yes. I know! Now then. Us chaps, as you know, take a pretty traditional view of life as a whole. When the club opened there was a general feeling that tv in the lounge or the bar - or indeed in some sort of dedicated tv room was strictly a no, no. A smoking room, no problem. A library for quiet contemplation and the writing of letters, natural enough. But couch potatoes, enduring their Soaps, not for people like us.’

‘I get it. But what to do about live sport? Of course.’

‘Precisely so.’

‘Hardly within the purview of the Dining Committee surely?’

‘You’re remembering your education. Well, geography really. I mean the permanent open access between the lounge, the dining area and the veranda bar, was all the result of lifting off the two sets of connecting double doors. All areas food and drink.’

‘Right.’

‘So, when the issue looked like being contentious, I suggested a one-off sub-committee. And it was agreed that a temporary solution of a flat screen on the wall in the bar with the sound usually off would be allowed, wired for free channels only.’

‘And eighteen months later…’

‘Quite. The problem was everyone chipped in with the different sports they wanted, we didn’t want to have people staying at home for significant parts of the year, so somehow it had to be everything from the Albanian football league, to the Zimbabwean cricket team. Not to mention the gender lobby, whether they were fans or not, if there was a female equivalent somewhere on the globe, we had to be seen to be providing it. So, technical and financial challenges to be overcome.’

‘What’s the cricket test?’

‘Well that’s what I’m in the middle of now, leave me in peace a while and I’ll endeavour an explanation in plain English.’

After fifteen minutes or so of cogitation back at the apartment, and fortified by a glass of iced water with a slice of lemon, I resumed. ‘The premise is; if we can satisfy the demand for a live feed of every single international cricket match - with the sound turned down - and the TMS radio commentary or equivalent, plus a second screen showing a real time scoreboard, then, we will, by default have purchased all the right kit and subscriptions in order to view everything else!’

‘Are they right?’

‘Well they’ve had long enough to think about it!’

‘And how do they propose paying for it?’

‘Well, here it would seem their psychology is right on the button. I may not be a great sports fan, but I can see that charging a premium on alcohol during a sporting event is genius. It satisfies the fundamental need for the club itself. After all, solitary sport is no sport at all, artificially creating a crowd spirit is the whole point - with a premium paid on the drinks, the right crowd self-selects itself.’

‘You mean on cricket days the bar will be packed with cricket fans.’

‘Got it in one.’

‘And on women’s football days?’

‘Not so crowded I grant you.’

‘But what about the disgruntled male members who can be seen hovering at twelve o’clock every day?’

‘Oh, I think you’ll find a sizeable chunk of them keeping half an eye on the game.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, the Americans have an expression which covers the phenomenon rather well, “foxy boxing”.’

‘Are you all right?’

‘Sure.’

‘It’s just that, you’ve been staring into space since ending that call.’

‘Yes, just taking it all in. It was from Carrie, I’m having one of those, “why am I being told all this” moments.’

‘Oh yes.’

‘I’ve been told the proposed election date, it’s a week later than I’d supposed, apparently we, the constituency that is, are ground zero. Given that Rory is Buffy’s majority, Rory must be seen from the start to be on the up and up.’

‘You mean Buffy wants you to big him up, Rory that is?’

‘Quite, but of course from the opposition’s point of view, we are their key marginal. Now I’m clear in my mind on what needs to be done, I know what would work, it’s just the how…’

‘Well just don’t drag me into it.’

‘Understood.’

‘Negotiations over the wood patrol are at a delicate stage.’

‘Of course, Tuffy and his chums will be well out it.’

‘Fortuitous.’

‘I leave the matter entirely in your hands, though of course I shall be available to give consultation should you require it. Only one item of advice. Supervise the stacking like a hawk, air flow is the key to the whole enterprise.’

‘Very good, sir.’

42: Charlie's chainsaw massacre

Undercover of the growing darkness brought on by parliamentary chaos, we sent in the bulldozers.

Well not quite - various earth moving equipment was used by the contractors. Uncle and I had started by making a rough map from the old illustrations of the parkland, then a golfing landscape gardener, friend of a member, made a proper digitised map using super accurate current data, before proceeding to send in the lads with the poles and tape to mark it all out. Trouble is, as soon you dig things up, the spoil always takes up more space than hole left behind - however modest your project, the whole place starts to look like a giant tip! Then it had to stay that way, until the tree surgeons had done their stuff. Despite giving reassurance all round, few seemed convinced by our argument that there would be just as much green and trees and much improved views with eighteen, rather than nine holes!

‘I say, where’s the money coming from for all this?’ Asked an anonymous club member.

‘Fear not, the Park company is paying, from real cash it’s already got, no new loans on my watch.’ I replied.

‘Still, no doubt you’ll be increasing the rent, and therefore our fees in the fullness of time?’

‘Well, yes and no. The current freebie of the nine holes, becomes an optional extra golf membership fee, separate from the standard package. Non-players should see their outgoings stay more or less the same in real terms. Well, that’s the plan anyway.’ What I didn’t say was that the money had actually come from the Trust, already accounted for a year earlier in the imaged cost of purchasing the mineral rights.

One day when Charlie and I were roaming the grounds monitoring progress in our precautionary wellies, she said; ‘Wouldn’t it have made more sense to do the felling and trunk removal before the earth moving?’

‘Well that rather depends on what your baseline for measuring efficiency is I suppose, something is only efficient when measured against an agree standard.’

‘But time, labour, mess…’

‘Sure, but these days with computerised measurement of everything, it’s often more profitable to calculate the total energy expended. Sometimes that’s just fuel, but even then, fewer people gently operating machinery set to some form of cruise control, which leads to a job taking longer, is often more profitable. There are reasons why the Green market economy is taking off!’

‘What! But…’

‘Think it through.’ I said, as I started to gently wander away.

‘Hang-on, are you saying the Green movement is being undermined?’

‘Well not really, but if you’re an idealist and have decided a particular way is morally superior, you’ll probably think it unnecessary to study what your enemy actually does. Always a mistake to focus on your opponent’s words rather than their actions.’

‘There’s still a lot you don’t know about me you know.’

‘I don’t doubt it. But that’s only right, surely, we hit each other with stuff, if and when we choose.’

‘For example, I’m fully certificated to use a chainsaw.’

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’

‘That’s why I had to take instruction from you and your Uncle on hand axes despite being quite good in woodland.’

‘Now there’s a thought, we decided not to sell all the wood but hold some back in the hope of finding someone who could knock out some woodland furniture. Any thoughts?’

‘You can’t help it can you. It’s instant. Looking for an opportunity in every situation.’

‘I try. Shame the pond doesn’t freeze over in winter, we could get you ice sculpting!’

Back home that evening, Charlie caught me off-guard with a question I couldn’t answer. ‘How many of your club members are religious?’

‘I don’t think we have that data. Besides it’s your club as much as mine these days.’

‘I suppose so. I just overheard a bit of chat at the spa about the nearest church, down in the village, having had no services for eighteen months.’

‘Good point. I don’t know anything about where the owners of the bungalows go either.’

‘Perhaps you should have a faith centre or meditation room in your ever-expanding plans for the Spa.’

‘We might be able to do better than that. How far have you got in your reading of Uncle’s magnum opus?’

‘Not as far as you.’

‘The house has a private chapel. I’ve only ever seen inside for a minute or two by torch light some years ago, but according to the manuscript it occupies the same space as the original chapel attached to the first house - ancient, sanctified ground in other words. And of course if we got truly ambitious about the whole place we’d have to spend money protecting it anyway, burials and all that, there never was a separate mausoleum or anything as fancy as that.’

‘I should like to be buried there, with a chainsaw in my hand for protection in the next life.’

‘Here lies Nemesis. You’ll have to make that clear in your Will, none of us will be here to see it done. However, at least we’ll have time to prepare for your arrival and the inevitable retribution.’

‘I’ve had yet another idea!’ I announced, entering the kitchen the following morning; ‘I must get Tuffy round here right away.’ I rattled off a text before turning towards a bemused Charlie. ‘Now then, I want you to listen in, hover and observe all, because although it does concern you, I want you to remain silent for the time being. There’s a chance for a nice little earner for you on the side, but we need to give Tuffy a few days to absorb the idea, realise you are the answer to his problems, then come begging.’

‘Whatever.’

‘What?’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

‘Really? You don’t require a full and exhaustive briefing?’

‘I trust you. Besides, I doubt you could best me anymore where Tuffy’s concerned.’

‘Tuffy! I have a new scheme, and I think you’re just the man to mastermind it.’

‘Really?’

‘Absolutely. Morning coffee? Still milky with one sugar?’

‘Yes, er thank you. I am pretty busy these days old man, and I’m not sure Victoria would approve if she got to hear of anything, you know, underhand.’

‘My dear fellow! Would I suggest such thing? No, on second thoughts don’t answer that. What I have in mind is purely legit. Now then, for a while now you and your buddies have been angling for the return of at least one open wood fire at the club, correct?

‘Certainly.’

‘We are now in a position to move to the experimental, feasibility stage of your project. However, we will require a modicum of volunteer labour. Are you up for it?’

‘Well, that rather depends…’

‘Your eleven-es, gentlemen.’

‘Thank you Charlie. We have hung-on to some of the wood from the golf course, we need you to lead a work party, to cut, chop and split said wood.’

‘Oh, I see.’

‘I think I have found just the spot to allow the wood to dry enough in time for Christmas. And besides, we have to buy a bit of time anyway, to track down a country house chimney expert, otherwise we run a very real risk of falling foul of the local authority, not to mention setting fire to the whole place.’

‘Yes, gosh, one wouldn’t want that.’

‘Now I reckon the house’s original wood store, which backed on to the boiler house, and therefore was always dry and slightly warm, can be reinstated. I fully realise that the modern boiler is a lot better insulated, but I think it will do the trick. The one thing I can’t tell you, is whether you’ll be better off moving the wood before or after you chop it, I imagine that will depend in part on what kind of transport you can rustle-up. Well, are you our man?’

‘Of course, of course.’

‘Any thoughts on team selection?’

‘Well, there were a least six or seven who sounded pretty keen the last time it came up for discussion.’

‘Excellent. Now then, how’s life with Lady V?...’

I’d barely closed the door before Charlie started in. ‘Are you sure? I mean, suppose they think they’re just the men for the job, get stuck in and only realise they’re in trouble when a lose axe head flies through the air and takes half someone’s head away.’

‘Ah, now then. You’re theorising from insufficient data, Watson. These buddies of Tuffy’s, are on the whole country-bred. At some point in their childhoods their fathers insisted they spend some part of the holidays mucking-in, sometimes mucking-out, with the outside staff. They would also play a lot in the grounds. They will know perfectly well that hard labour is involved, and yet it is they who fantasise about spending the long winter afternoons lounging in front of a real fire, and someone is bound to immediately turn out an old toasting fork intent on crumpets at four o’clock. In other words, they’ll be thinking of hired help within the first five minutes.’

‘Well. I’m not doing it all on my own, you’ll need tons of it just for a try-out over Christmas!’

‘Precisely so. But my thinking is, you provide the leadership, the motivation. You should, for a modest fee, command and instruct the reluctant detail yourself.’

I could see her mind at work. Just as I’d seen that Tuffy was determined not to lose face by turning the job down; she I knew was thinking; ‘Can I rise to the challenge?’ It would be, but a matter of time.

41: Sparkwell and the fourth estate

‘Your arch enemy is in all sorts of trouble.’ So said Charlie whilst reading our great nation’s leading scandal sheet on her tablet. ‘Are we pleased?’

‘Buffy is probably just beginning to enjoy himself.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, he delights in thinking up ways of doing the opposite of what people expect, of disorientating them before going on the attack. Journalists, as well as the opposition, should always think twice before telling him there is something he can’t do.’

‘Sounds like he has ongoing authority issues.’

‘I say! There’s no call for that kind of language.’

En route to the Park, with Charlie as usual taking the wheel, I found myself ruminating on past times. ‘At our school it was a tradition, given the extensive private grounds, to give boys the opportunity to learn to drive at a ridiculously young age. However, the quid pro quo for all this, was that the Car…’

‘You don’t have to explain, I know, we had one at Beaconsfield, I was the only girl in our year’s team. We had a Moggy Minor, what did you have?’

‘A Triumph Vitesse.’

‘No way! Not a chance. I know what that is, I’ve seen under the bonnet. This is some kind of a cheat done for the posh boy’s school…’

‘Just, just... Hang on a minute. How it was done, is the whole point of the story.’

‘This had better be good.’

‘Now, originally, back in the nineteen thirties there had been an old Model T that started the tradition. It, as we know, was designed in such a way that a mechanically minded farmer stuck out in the Mid-west could do any kind of repair, ordering parts via the Sear’s catalogue or whatever! Then during the war, they moved up to a baby Austin. Post-war the school gets more ambitious, there was a Moggy at one time, a half-timbered traveller I believe…’

‘It would be.’

‘Before moving on to Minis. But by the early-eighties, the whole self-reliance, team working point of the exercise was rapidly losing relevance. Now it so happens, a new young master turns up who drives a low mileage Vitesse and parks in a carpark stuffed with Jaguars and the occasional Aston. But they are two-a-penny to the boys who have grown up with them all their lives. The new master says why not make it all about vintage, tradition etc. And offers his car, because he’s about to get one of the last TR7s - a decision he regretted for the rest of his life I think.’

‘What colour was it?’

‘Canary yellow.’

‘Not the fucking TR7...’

‘Oh, green, soft-top with red upholstery, quite close to a Great Western locomotive, Brunswick Green.’

‘Carry on.’

By this time, we had arrived and parked. ‘So, when we all arrived and started to absorb the legend, the old stable yard garage had a pit, benches down each side and a hand operated lift from an overhead joist. Our man had accumulated spares and a proper workshop manual, secondhand from a real garage - a ring binder thingy with added notes, drawings etc by real mechanics. Time passes and it becomes our turn for the Vitesse Challenge planned to last for twelve half-days, naturally competition is stiff for places, Gruber, MacIntosh and I are the core of it, but on the day, low and behold Buffy turns up, we all say “what the fuck”, after all he was already well into his Brideshead phase and didn’t know a torque wrench from a toffee apple…’

‘Nothing wrong with Evelyn Waugh.’

‘Sure, Sword of Honour and all that, but at fifteen - starting every sentence with; “My dears”, it’s a bit much.’

‘Are you seriously suggesting you stripped the entire car and put it back together?’

‘All right, but it was a damn good course with supervision; wheels, brakes, shock absorbers, electrics, the high point was to have the engine out at shoulder height, have the ritual celebration, then put the previous hours’ worth of reverse engineering into reverse, whilst we could still remember what we’d done. But my point is, Buffy…’

‘Yes, well, the whole point is to get lost, to have to share ideas, panic, tinker with parts that can tolerate a bit of tinkering. I’m not sure all that qualifies.’

‘But my point is - there really is a lot of tom boy, jolie-laide in you - Buffy, despite lounging and disporting himself all over the place the whole time, turned out to be some real use in the end. He’d started developing this thing, a leadership style I suppose, of staring intently at what’s going on, then saying once in a while; “Cat should be doing that”, or “Barmy’s best for that”. More often than not he was right. He really is the living embodiment of; “I don’t know, but I know a man who does”.’

‘Look out!’

Cat MacIntosh was heading across the carpark. ‘Are you two coming in? There’s a bit of a flap on as it happens.’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Just come out of the membership committee. For the first time in ages, we are unresolved. No one forced a vote or anything, but no one really knows the guy, obviously one knows where he works, but even what he actually does is a bit of a mystery.’

‘To whom are you referring?’

‘A chap who goes by the name of Don Wooley.’

‘No! Really?’ So said Charlie with one of her smirks.

‘Never heard of him.’

‘He’s a journalist, works for that paper you delight in calling my scandal sheet. He’s an Aussie bruiser, but really rather camp with it. His by-line often has Executive Editor added, but I don’t know what that means.’

‘This is one of those situations Tony.’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘What situations?’

‘Rare, but real. Where we, are stuck in our own world. We need you Charlie. What do we do?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

‘No! So okay, we know we’re talking to the right person, now help us out.’

‘Talk, to your arch enemy, he didn’t get where he is without help.’

‘Thank you, understood. Time for a little light lunch I think.’

I found a quiet spot alone in the grounds and phoned Carrie. ‘Tony darling! How are things?’

‘Fine, excellent in fact, yourself?’

‘Oh, baring up with the best of Christian fortitude I suppose, he’s got me practicing a sort of low key first lady act, just to keep me occupied until an election date is known. What’s your problem?’

‘I need a couple of minutes chat with Buffy on a non-official, private matter.’

‘Ah, well you may be in luck, he’s here with me in the flat, changing for an early run, God knows where they’ll take him today, I’ll pass this phone over.’

After a ten second mute; ‘Anthony, good news or bad?’

‘Information required, name of Don Wooley - never heard of him until ten minutes ago.’

‘You should have.’

‘That’s why it’s you I’m bothering.’

‘Aussie journo, works for our journal of record. Has a sort of strategic brief, outsider who can see the big picture, understands the changing readership, tell them when they’re missing the target. Quite fun to read too.’

‘That explains why he’s read by my Valette then.’

‘Ha! Love it. Next question.’

‘You know she spotted Frimley at Aberdeen, half a second of video with his back to the camera.’

‘Bloody hell! Still, we got away with it. He reckons we’ll lose in court though.’

‘Then rise above it, explain nothing, question their right to judge.’

‘Goodbye Anthony.’

‘Well?’ Charlie asked as I returned to the veranda bar.

‘I managed to get hold of him, he obliged, gave a short description of what your man is.’

‘What does he recommend?’

‘He, doesn’t recommend anything, anyway the conversation never happened. If formally asked by the committee for my opinion, I shall give my opinion.’

‘Wait here, I’ll see if they want a post-lunch recommencement.’ So said Cat before scurrying off.

‘So? What will you recommend?’

‘Let the bugger in!’

40: Summer wine

Late August, the smell of autumn in the early morning air, the return of Orion. I was at Checkley Manor, as had been my habit for some years, along with Charlie who was enjoying her second summer in the woods. But today would be different, we were scheduled to do a run into town on various errands, the principal one being the grand opening of Lady Victoria’s new picture gallery. However, our departure was somewhat delayed when, with a mouthful of toast, Charlie suddenly jumped up and declared; ‘That’s Frimley!’

She was pointing at the tv which sat in one corner of the big kitchen with its sound turned down - an old vacuum tube colour set that simply refused to die. After some confusion I was despatched to find an enhance-able digital version.

It appeared that breakfast television had gone live to Aberdeen International Airport, to a member of the press pack that camps out there on the concourse every year during the months of August and September, hoping to spot arrivals and departures, to and from Balmoral Castle. Two privy councillors had been spotted, there to ask permission, it was presumed, for parliament to be on holiday too - and, but one pace behind them appeared, momentarily, the one and only.

‘Ah yes, the tall chap with specs, I remember Coates, that’s his rear view is it?’ Said Uncle. ‘What the devil would he be bag-carrying for the government for?’

‘Special Advisor to the PM on constitutional matters, he is, no less, this countries’ leading parliamentary nerd.’

‘Can’t think why he’s there, he’ll be stuck in the servant’s hall with a cup of tea, the monarch meets alone with her council.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh yes, no notes taken, no nothing. Strictly speaking, that weekly audience with the PM is a meeting of the council too, the privy is but one room away from the bedchamber, remember.’

‘Amazing. So, if Her Madge, says that in the year nineteen thirty whenever, her father sent Chamberlain away for having the temerity to suggest something unprecedented, Frimley can’t jump up and say, but surely Ma’am in eighteen forty-seven etc.’

‘Precisely. You know my great grandfather, was once made to stand for four hours in full dress uniform when he was an equerry to…’

‘There ought to be a written constitution,’ asserted Charlie.

‘There is!’ Replied Uncle. ‘It’s there in every single document of the court, every decision, every time a subject of the realm has exerted their common law right to seek redress from the Crown since Runnymede.’

‘Good Lord, is that the time, we should be making a move…’

‘So, what was Frimley doing there?’ Asked Charlie as she steered us back to the coast.

‘No doubt in his mind it’s the ultimate Awayday! Of course, there is always the possibility that at this very moment he and his political masters are lost in the mist, having been told by a flunkey that She Who Must Be Obeyed is holed up in an ancient bothy with the dogs and whoever is her version of John Brown.’

‘Why would she do that?’

‘Well, apart from the fact it’s a more pleasant way of spending the morning than talking to politicians, if you’re in a position of power then absenting yourself can be an effective way of getting the decision you want by default. Uncle does it all the time, ask Gregson.’

‘That man has delusions of grandeur.’

‘I’m sure you’re right. But what does that make me?’

‘Oh, you’re just an upstart!’

‘Do you mind if we hang back and loiter for a few minutes, just observe a bit?’ I asked.

‘Okay.’

We were on the opposite side of the street from the gallery, itself a conversion of two adjoining shops, on that side of the harbour now given over to a marina for pleasure craft, whilst the fishing industry was confined to the other side. ‘I just want to get the lay of the land, the inside is still a bit in shadow despite all those spotlights.’

‘But they won’t have any trouble seeing us!’

‘That’s okay, we have all the time in the world, they need us more than we need them.’

‘That’s a pretty pompous thing to say.’

‘It’s a networking event, these openings always are - and people want to be seen. Vic won’t be happy until several local press photographers have snapped the cognoscente. We may not be the richest present or indeed the greatest art lovers, but we are chic, and we are the zeitgeist!

‘Oh, for goodness sake.’ And after a pause; ‘Are there really people richer than you in this town?’

‘Of course, you’ve met one or two at the club. Not to mention those with some of the bigger yachts behind us.’

‘Which one is this Lady Victoria then?’

‘The tall one, as skinny as a mannequin, with the dress that flows when she moves. Looks like she was once something in the ballet.’

‘She didn’t used to be one of yours?’

‘Er no, not my type. The traditional ballet look I mean, she’s not your more modern super athletic, all skin and muscle Darcey type.’

‘And it’s the muscles that get you all hot and bothered, as we know. Reminds me, I need to work more on my core.’

‘Hello, something’s happening.’ A couple were just approaching the doorway.

‘Hey, you were right. He’s practically touching his forelock. Who are they?’

‘No idea. Besides, you’re the one who should be learning to put a name to every face.’

‘What’s he wearing?’

‘Looks like some kind of ancient frock coat. Come on, let’s get stuck in.’

After twenty minutes of polite hand shacking chit chat and a glass of terribly hygienic Australian chardonnay, I finally got a chance to look at the pic-tures. ‘Tuffy!’

‘Yes, sir. May I be of assistance?’

‘I’m getting seriously worried about you Tuffy. What on earth is your father’s collection of Victorian seascapes doing here?’

‘Temporary loan old man, help the new venture along don’t you know.’

‘They’re not in the sale then?’

‘Well, I suppose Mother might accept an offer on one or two of them.’

‘Ah, well, that’s all right then. I thought for a moment I was going to have to organise a heist in the dead of night on her behalf. So, what hangs on her grand-ish staircase now?’

‘Well, nothing, just for a mouth or two.’

‘Tuffy, I’ve been entranced by these pictures since I was no higher than the banisters themselves. That’s positively cruel.’

‘Mrs Tufnell has been terribly sweet about the whole idea.’ Said a female voice from behind.

‘She’s terribly sweet about everything! Vic, I’ve just decided, I’m giving you your first big success as a dealer. Hear and now, before witnesses, I want first refusal on all seventeen of them. What’s more I’ll give them all back on permanent loan during her lifetime. Well, Tuffy? Promise me, you’ll tell me immediately if there’s any prospect of any one of them going anywhere.’

‘Of course, old chap. How do you know there are seventeen?’

‘I despair. Because, if you include the landing as one, there are seventeen sodding steps to your bedroom!’

‘Good lord, really?’

‘Now then Tony,’ Lady Victoria said, taking me by the arm; ‘You must take a look at these Metroland garden pictures from the forties…’

A week or so later when we returned to the apartment, there was a parcel amongst the half a dozen or so letters. Charlie hovered expectantly. ‘Well bless my soul, who’d have thought. Life is full of joy, and sorrow at the same time.’

‘What is it?’

‘A gift, from Tuffy’s mother, I really don’t deserve it. The note says, “you’re the person I know will value it the most.” It’s Tuffy’s father’s first edition of the nineteen thirty, complete Sherlock Holmes.’

‘Oh my God of course! So, he accidental bought a house with…’

‘Well, not really, the Victorians standardised a lot of stuff, that was a large part of their success. And of course, Tuffy’s father introduced the both of us to the stories.’

‘That must have been where it all started, you absorbing everything and Tuffy…’

‘It really doesn’t bare analysis.’

‘What does “the neo-deconceptualists” mean?’

‘I didn’t mean you had to change the subject completely!’

‘No really, I need to know.’

‘Don’t tell me, the other day some chap sidled up to you whilst you were looking quizzically at one of the pictures and said something like, “difficult to admire the neo-deconceptualists, wouldn’t you say?”’

‘How did you know?’

‘Well, it’s the sort of line I’d use if I were trying to pick you up. But no, it’s sort of an in joke. Think about de-concept, well that must mean ending up with no concept, no process, no thought at all really, then the neo bit is really just, a double dose of nothingness, second generation or another layer of nothingness piled on top.’

‘You and I both know we’re looking at crap with a thousand-pound price tag.’

‘Exactly. But we’re keeping quiet about, because life’s more fun that way; never give a sucker an even break - whether they’re the so-called artist or the collector.’