75: The long day out

‘It never seems right, seeing the river so full of pleasure craft.’

‘Daphne! Yes indeed, never more stylish than when the Navy dominated.’

‘I think one of my ancestors was invited to review the college, before World War One.’ Chipped in Barmy.

‘Ah, one forgets, it wasn’t until the first decade of the twentieth century, that the British press started painting Germany as the enemy.’

We were all on the ferry crossing the river, to the one railway station in Britain that never had any tracks.

‘So, you see Mel, what is now a cafe, once had a booking office where you could buy a ticket to anywhere in the country.’

‘I’ve brought your book back.’

‘Excellent. I anticipated such an outcome and have brought along a new volume.’

‘More adventures?’

‘Of a slightly different kind. A book about Sherlock Holmes, written by a female PhD in psychology. Here, let’s do a swap right now, whilst we’re out of sight.’

‘God! Isn’t it going to be a bit advanced?’

‘I doubt it. I don’t know what the adults say about teenage frustrations these days, in my day everything was blamed on puberty, anyway don’t listen to any of it, your frustrations are about having an underused brain.’

‘You are terribly politically incorrect Tony.’

‘Oh, thank you very much.’

‘Mummy has taken charge of the packed lunches, could do with a drink right now. I bet they’ll snag all the wine for themselves.’

‘Ah, now, there’s a point. I should tell you on the quiet. Your father has never had a good head for alcohol, perhaps your mother is concerned you might have inherited it, apart from the fact that the female frame is smaller and therefore glass for glass, more susceptible to intoxication. Of course, she could also be worried about the prospect of man overboard. Anyway, how did you find the Adventures?’

‘Great. The opening story made me think of Daddy’s alleged grand connections, they came from Bohemia, born on the wrong side of some royal bed. Not the Grubers, obviously, his mother’s side.’

‘Hereditary bastards of Bohemia, sounds like a good title for a book, well, well, not the kind of ancestors to shout about.’

‘Is it true Grandpa used to be a spook?’

‘Snooper, not spook, well that’s the rumour, never actually had it confirmed. It is your mother’s father we’re talking about?’

‘Yes, he always says he was a civil servant. So, what’s a snooper then?’

‘Ah, well. First there were codebreakers, reaching back into the mists of time. Then add in military signals intelligence, Morse code and all that. Then whole networks of electric telegraphs, telephones, radio and finally the internet, all to be snooped upon.

‘Grandpa’s never been much of a one for tinkering.’

‘No, he, allegedly, got involved with how to interpret the product. Thing is, in recent times the US and UK have had the capacity to eavesdrop on all electronic communications from around the globe. So much data, that you have to come up with a system for the computers to filter it all for you. Then, how do humans set about interpreting what might or might not, be a threat...’ We were interrupted by a shout from over yonder.

‘I say! Are you two coming?’ It was Tuffy, gesturing from the riverboat. Everyone else it seemed was already on board.

‘Tuffy seems excited about his day out.’

‘Too excited. He’s taken to carrying his father’s hipflask.’ So said the Lady Vic.

‘Thank goodness it’s a small one, he hasn’t got his grandfather’s snuff box on him?’

‘Oh, I’ve not heard about that.’

‘Tried it at school once, but only the once.’

‘The thing is, he indicated he’s not too clever on boats, you’re not in a position to elaborate I suppose?’

‘I can’t ever remember being on boat with Tuffy.’

We made steady, one might say sedate, progress up the estuary, nonetheless a bit of a cross wind did give us a slight roll, along with the wakes of passing craft. Cat was getting into his stride as a tour guide. After a lengthy discourse on the naval college, taking us well passed the actual location itself, he barely had time to catch his breath before starting his preamble to our view of Greenway. Given Christie lived a long time, and indeed grew-up just down the road, there was a certain logic to giving a potted biography before the river narrowed and we came alongside the place she spent her declining years.

‘Looks like some sort of river crossing here.’ Said Walpole.

‘Oh, indeed. In modern times there always seems to have been a local boatman willing to ferry people across. But the village on the west bank has at least a thousand-year history, part of the church was started in Norman times, the tides are quite strong but at low tides it’s the last point on river that’s fordable, that’s why the village existed, why there was a road on which to build Greenway.’

‘One would never think it.’

‘Fords are often built-up and straightened artificially with river gravels, have to be maintained of course, remarkable how deep you can take a coach and four...’

Then suddenly he interrupted me; ‘I say, that Tufnell fellow is looking rather green about the gills.’

‘Serve him right for drinking too much.’

‘You know I once had cause to view the body of a man who died from poisoning, he had just that kind of distorted face.’

Sure enough, a moment or two later there was the sound of retching, and the sight of Tuffy bent over the side. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ said Charlotte.

‘No Charlie, let him be, he’s Vic’s responsibility now.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh, yes. Discretion being the better part of valour and all that.’

‘Very good, sir.’

After what seemed like hours, there was a palpable feeling of relief all round when we finally made landfall.

Cat marshalled us on the quayside; ‘Let’s stick together till the river bridge, then I can show you where we’ll be picked-up.’

‘The railway sidings used to run as far as here.’ I said, falling in with Walpole again; ‘Shame the preservationists of the other line going towards the Moor, never thought of including it.’

‘That would have meant permissions, in and out of the BR station in two directions, unthinkable at the time.’

‘Alas.’

‘Alack.’

‘Now then,’ said Cat pausing to address us all. ‘The bus will be on the hotel side of the road, access to the castle is via the main street, follow me group.’ And with that he promptly turned away, with our erstwhile neighbour taking his arm. Charlie and I followed behind. I’d previously decided there was no getting out of it.

A minute or two later my loyal confederate whispered in my ear; ‘Don’t look round but we’re not being followed!’

I waited until we were passing under the famous archway before looking back down the hill. With the exception of Mrs Walpole looking in a gift shop window, there was no sign of anybody.

Sparkwell and I sat side by side on the park bench outside the entrance to the castle. Having consumed our cans of red wine with the beef sandwiches whilst on the boat, we now rewarded ourselves with the cheese sarnies and water!

‘You do realise we have less sex than we used to.’

‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’

‘Well neither had I. It only came to me by accident.’

‘It doesn’t bother you?’

‘No. Well, not until I started wondering about whether it should. It’s kind of unfamiliar territory to me, being with someone for so long. I mean, I’d heard from others that things drop off.’

‘An unfortunate turn of phrase. Fact is, this is all rather unfamiliar to me too.’

We were prevented from further discussion by Cat and his companion emerging from the castle. She was saying; ‘So, the proper beacon hills to the west and east are both higher but out of sight, because we are lower than the surrounding hills, despite being at the high point in the valley. Is that what you are saying?’

74: Packed lunch provided

I had feared we’d be barely out of the Park carpark before someone started on their packed lunch. As it happened, most people simply had a poke about, resisting temptation. Contained within each brown paper package, with handles, was a bottle of our water, a can of red wine and a miniature, two rounds of sandwiches (one beef, one cheese) and of course, an apple.

I was most impressed with the coach, its sleek curved lines, manufactured with detail and care in the nineteen fifties. The thought given to offering real support to the seating, real visibility out of the windows. The two-tone paint job was pleasing to the eye too, but nonetheless it was the same design, though then in plainer colours, which had taken all kinds of passengers on cross country journeys for many years. It was simply a more civilised way to travel than what was to follow. It did however, demand more of the driver, but then that was no bad thing. I was brought out of my reverie by Mrs Walpole’s voice behind me. ‘Don’t you find the country so much more romantic than the city Walpole?’

‘Yes, it still has dirt and grime. Cities are so hygienic these days.’

‘Oh, really!’

Before we were allowed off the coach at the bus station opposite the steam railway, Cat as ‘teacher in charge’ gave us detailed instructions regarding the itinerary, especially where we were to be picked-up again by the coach at the end of the day.

As we dismounted, I said; ‘Cat, I think I’ve spotted the flaw in your plan.’

‘Oh, I say! Really?’

‘We’re to be picked-up at the main bus stop, which is next door to the most famous hotel stroke pub, south of the Moor. Both of which, along with the river on which we will have arrived are at the bottom of the hill. And yet, you expect us all to take a hike up to the top of the town, before entering the castle. I doubt many will get beyond the pub.’

‘But surely Charlotte will have you taking the exercise?’ So said the lady from number forty-two.

‘Oh, absolutely.’

‘Alistair has promised to explain to me, why there was a need to have two beacon hills.’

‘Oh really! You’ve been brushing up on our local history then Cat?’

Getting to the train involved leaving the bus station, crossing a busy road, walking alongside the entrance to the conventional railway station, crossing over it at the level crossing, all before entering the space on the far side of the tracks dedicated to the steam railway. We must have resembled a co-educational school ‘crocodile’ by the end of it. Walpole commented; ‘Brutal, isn’t it. Worse than the Berlin Wall.’

‘You are aware of the story Harry?’

‘Oh, indeed. Everyone just calls me Walpole by the way. British Railways was really quite hostile to the preservation movement.’

‘My husband spent many years going on circuit. He used to enjoy the days of Brown Windsor soup.’

‘Yes, I was first introduced to that way of life by my old pupil master...’

‘That and the railway claret.’ She added.

‘Oh, really. Helene! No, BR, rather than cooperate with the enthusiasts, who of course were in large part ex-railway employees, divided the station in two, and sold off the accompanying land, all the way down the line, to the relevant local authorities, and in the process destroyed any possibility of a faithful preservation.’

‘What truly bothered me as a young lad, was the fakery of the rolling stock, again quite unnecessary.’

‘Thank goodness they’ve given us a coach rather than that “chocolate and cream” observation car, which should really be in southern region green and given to another railway altogether!’

‘It dates from that period when the Atlantic Coast Express tried to make it’s buffet cars look like pubs, doesn’t it?’

‘You’re far too young to remember them!’

‘Every inch of film has gone onto DVD, and now is mostly online too.’

‘Yes of course, so much easier to be an enthusiast these days.’

‘Just a lot less to be enthusiastic about!’

Our reserved carriage, was a mark one British Railways coach, an open second as it happened, which any self-respecting train spotter would recognise. None of them had gone into service before nineteen fifty-one, either in a maroon, or a ‘blood and custard’ livery, yet we were confronted with one painted in traditional Great Western Railway ‘chocolate and cream’ and with an ascribed name!

‘Come on, it’s the seat that counts.’ Said Walpole.

We were quick enough to grab a double table, but were disappointed as our bottoms sunk to an uneven halt. ‘Damn it! You’d have thought they’d have the courtesy to stuff them properly once in a while.’

‘Really Walpole, are you going to find fault with everything. They are volunteers after all.’

I tried to be conciliatory; ‘Well, we won’t be travelling at more than twenty-five miles an hour.’

‘Now there’s another thing. I put to you members of the jury, that throughout its life as part of the GWR, this was a main line - the Bay Express left Paddington daily - it had to be, it carried thousands of navy cadets to the Royal Naval College. It may be a single track from here on but the terminus was designed to take the largest trains and maintain the largest locomotives. Why both Princess Elisabeth and Phillip Mountbatten travelled this way before the war...’

‘Oh, do be quiet Walpole! It’s not your job to make speeches anymore.’

‘In that case I shall make a start on my can of wine.’

‘Dare one mention Agatha Christie? She was most certainly a regular traveller on this line.’ I asserted as we cantered along between beach and countryside.

‘Oh, I do like a good Christie, do you Anthony? Walpole disagrees, as usual.’

Harry had his can open, so I continued whilst I had the chance. ‘I think she improved a lot over the years; indeed, I think her final Miss Marple novels were her best. A character not that different from herself.’

‘I wonder if these crime writers would actually be any good at solving real life crimes?’ Asked Charlie.

‘Ah! Now you’ve put your finger on the bull point, young Charlotte.’ Asserted Walpole. ‘I must say this wine is real quite acceptable Anthony, better than the crude Bordeaux type usually available to an Old Bailey hack. No, I doubt very much whether any of the so-called crime writers would make a good detective.’

‘Oh, come now Walpole, the only fiction you every read is Sherlock Holmes!’

‘Yes, but Mrs Walpole,’ I interceded; ‘Conan Doyle knows he’s not a great detective, he’s tried his best to be a student of Dr Bell at Edinburgh, but he knows his limits as a diagnostician, part of the reason he’s turned to writing.’

‘Thank you, Anthony. My point entirely.’ Then the train came to a gentle, but unexpected standstill in the middle of nowhere.

After a minute or so Walpole opened the window; ‘We’ve not arrived at Adlestrop by any chance?’

‘I hate the way literary types go on about Adlestrop. They quite fail to realise the location was irrelevant, that what Thomas was describing was an experience known and understood by millions.’

‘Absolutely.’ Replied Walpole.

‘What experience is this?’ Asked Charlotte.

‘Riding an Express, you suddenly feel the driver take the power off in the middle of nowhere, the train slowly slows down, clearly not an emergency, he lets it roll, hoping for a green signal so as to pick up speed again, trying to avoid stopping altogether because of the work and time that involves. But after a couple of minutes, he has no choice but to stop at a red signal. The noise and vibration cease, as the minutes tick by the passengers hearing adjusts, if a window isn’t open, someone opens one. The sounds of the countryside become the background, there is sense of peace and stillness within the train, however busy the world is outside. The fact that this happened to the poet at a halt on the mainline to Worcester in nineteen fifteen is just so much context, it’s only sixteen lines long as it is.’

‘Still worthy of inclusion in anyone’s edition of the Oxford Verse though.’ As Walpole spoke, we began to move again and proceeded without incident to the end of the line.

73: The art lovers

‘I’m on the train.’

‘And you’d like a pick up at the station.’

‘At two-thirty.’

‘No problem, see you then.’

‘You haven’t made any changes, have you?’

‘No.’

‘That’s all right then. Bye.’

‘What are we doing today?’

‘We, are off to meet the art lovers.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘A new exhibition apparently, poster art, nineteen thirties to the present day.’

‘Surely it all started earlier than that?’

‘Oh, I think so, but this is the mass-produced stuff, like thousands of copies of railway posters, commercial art and advertising, that sort of thing...’

‘I’ve something to say.’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘I’ve decided against a cleaning lady, if I get unhappy with your standard of upkeep, I’ll step in myself, much as I did at the apartment.’

‘Okay, but you do surprise me sometimes.’

‘I can’t do it, give orders, especially to someone in a servant kind of a role. I’m not you, I can’t judge the moment, or what to say, know the difference between a schoolmaster, the vicar, a gardener, a farm manager, insult your uncle in the first half of a sentence, then praise Julia in the second half. I can do equals when we’re alone, be a subservient servant or uppity servant in public, but that’s it. Daphne’s wrong, I’m not being understanding, I just don’t understand.’

‘There’s just one thing, what’s going on when you give orders to kitchen or bar staff?’

‘They’re not my orders, they’re the customers.’

‘We are just dropping in, it’s not a do?’ So asked Charlie as we walked the harbour side.

‘Correct, but it is the opening day, and they’ve only been going an hour, so no doubt there will be those who wish to be seen to be there.’

‘Welcome old man. Charlotte, do step this way.’ So said Tuffy, holding open the door. ‘There are just a few exhibition pieces, the rest are prints for sale, various ages, conditions, rarity. But the thing is we are now the sole local agent for new print runs from the National Railway Museum Collection, hoping it will be a nice little earner on the side, so to speak.’

As we wandered, Charlie confided; ‘How does Lady Victoria cope with Tuffy? I mean all the obsequious attention? I know I’d find it terribly, cloying. Worshiping someone, not the nicest thing you can do.’

‘Well, I imagine always having been a Lady, helps. She must understand what’s genuine. And if it’s for real, it is flattering. She has a natural confidence, she’ll know how much rubs off on him, she’ll know she’s good for him. She’ll also know of Tuffy’s reputation for falling in love every five minutes, and how, somehow, she’s managed to bring an end to all that. Tuffy may not appear much of a catch, but there is every sign the devotion is real.’

We ruminated awhile on the romance of train travel before the war, and wondered how much of it had been for real. After a minute or two I saw a familiar face approaching. ‘I say, Walpole! What ho.’

‘I didn’t think anyone spoke like that anymore?’ He appeared to be in the company of a lady, a little taller than himself.

‘He doesn’t usually, only when he’s especially happy.’ Interceded Charlie. ‘How are you sir? A pleasure to meet at last.’

‘Charmed. Likewise. Ah, yes. I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Helene. Helene, this is Anthony, part owner of Crawford Spa and his partner Charlotte Sparkwell.’

‘Surely, not by any chance...’

‘Yes, one time tearaway daughter of my old sparing partner down the Bailey.’

‘Good lord. You never mentioned any of this before Walpole.’

‘Well, it hardly seemed relevant.’

‘How are you finding life on the Riviera, Mrs Walpole?’ I asked.

‘Most relaxing. A lot less worry now, since I was able to drag Walpole away from the criminal bar, such sordid cases he’s been doing these last few years.’

‘Are you the art lover, Mrs Walpole?’ Asked Charlotte.

‘Oh, indeed. But alas only from a distance. Walpole never got the money briefs, unlike your father. I’m afraid we’ll never be able to afford the luxuries of your spa.’

‘Well, Charlie here managed to get herself signed-in as a guest most weeks, for the better part of eighteen months, made herself so essential to the life of the place I was eventually forced to persuade our accountant to put her fees on expenses.’

‘I’ve never understood the world of finance, one reason why I stuck to a life of crime.’ Commented Walpole.

‘An idea occurs to me, perhaps the two of you would like to be our guests on the club’s annual outing?’

We were just working our way towards the door again when we came across someone else previously known. ‘Good lord, Thayer! What are you doing here? Lady Victoria isn’t going bust just yet, is she?’

‘Not that I’m aware of, sir. I’m just inveigling myself with local society, better to improve contacts. Oil the wheels of business.’

‘Well, I guess we are amongst the well healed. Thank you for your negotiations on our behalf by the way. Has Brinkley paid you yet?’

‘No, but in fairness I only submitted the account a week ago.’

‘Still, one of the advantages of being on the premises, eh!’

‘Let’s go to the Harbour Cafe, I’ve not been this way for ages. And I’ve had word that Captain Bob wants to speak to me. Talking of whom, how do I properly account for my time at the night shelter?’

‘Ah, good question. I would say, any time spent in meetings or doing anything that smacks of administration can be legitimately marked up as Trustee work - and expenses claimed accordingly. But obviously, informal chatting with clients is something else. Ah, I’ve got it, any time spent where you need to be supervised by a qualified worker should count as voluntary.’

‘Yes, that works.’

Sure enough, the captain was holding forth to his table of followers when we arrived. After ordering at the counter, we took a vacant table outside. ‘By the way, just for the record,’ whispered Charlie, ‘it’s Captain Robert Forsyth RN.’

‘Thanks for telling me.’

‘Glad to catch you two together. I need your help, both of you. Charlie knows me as well as anyone, and since you’ve spent a lifetime looking after a family fortune, you’re a disinterested expert. Fact is, one really ought to make a Will.’

‘Ah, yes indeed. Do I take it your classic yacht is worth more than you paid for it?’

‘My god, Charlie said you were quick! Fact is I can trust Charlie to know what to do with my possessions, what I really value, who might value them or benefit from them after I’m gone, I just need someone with the clout to make it happen.’

‘Well,’ I said picking up my mobile, ‘the answer is probably to name Charlie as your executor, then - given she’s now a Trustee of the Trust - she can get my people to do the leg work, but still have the final say. Besides, she’s totally taken me over when it comes to moral or ethical decisions... Bernard! I need to make an appointment on behalf of an acquaintance. Just a case of drawing up a Will, but a chap with a lot to leave and a close personal friend of Charlotte. His name? Captain Robert Forsyth RN. Yes, I’m sure Lawrence will be interested too.’ I placed a hand over the phone. ‘Are you free next Tuesday morning? Sparkwell can chauffeur you over to our great cathedral city.’

‘Why all this now Bob? You’re not ill, are you?’ Asked Charlie a few minutes later.

‘Apart from the usual ailments of old age, no. The fact is, I’ve signed-up for a cruise. I’ll be off to the Falklands this winter, to take part in one of the fortieth anniversary tours. Had thought of sailing myself, but was advised against it.’

‘Thank god for that.’

‘Would have done, just can’t guarantee supplies of fuel at the south Atlantic ports. Still, one feels one has to be there of course, so an organised tour it had to be. It’ll be nice to see the old place again, though during the conflict itself, we never got near it.’

‘How come?’

‘By that time, I’d transferred to the old Merchant Marine, in charge of a refuelling vessel. Stuck in mid-Atlantic, doing ship to ship transfers. Hell on earth at times, terrified of collisions. Bloody suicidal for the boys on deck.’

72: Charlie takes leave

‘You’ll be okay, if I leave you for a week?’

‘Of course.’

‘No hatching of plots.’

‘Cross my heart...’

‘That’s alright then.’

‘Tea’s ready Kenneth.’

We sat at the kitchen table. ‘This is very good of you. I was quite prepared to fix my own refreshment.’

‘Least I could do.’

‘Since we’re alone, I thought I might approach the subject of fruits.’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, I was wondering what you might require?’

‘I, don’t require anything. But if you and Charlie are willing to go to the time and trouble, I’m more than happy to tell you what would get my approval and hence what I’d be prepared to pay for.’

‘I see. Charlotte has confided how involved you’ve been with your uncle’s place over the years, she says I shouldn’t be taken in by your stand-offish-ness. You do care rather a lot about the garden. And your concern betrays knowledge.’

‘I trust history Kenneth, this is a smallish Victorian suburban garden, if you think there is room for a plumb, and or apple, and or cherry tree, I’ll go with that. Also, traditional raspberry canes and gooseberry bushes - well, so much the better. As for strawberries and tomatoes, that really would mean all three of us mucking in at certain times of the year.’

‘All sensible choices, but a little unambitious perhaps?’

‘You started this conversation by saying “since we’re alone.” Is there something you couldn’t discuss in front of Charlie?’

‘Oh, no. It was just that, she warned me off, refused to brief you herself.’

‘She does know me quite well!’

‘You do have a south facing wall, sir.’

‘Oh, no! No way. I’ll not see you waste your declining years. Better to live without the worry, the obsession. You’ll be far more productive on general upkeep. And after all man, what do you get at the end of the day, a couple of shrivelled apricots, blotchy nectarines and probably a single peach.’

‘The wall does show evidence of previous ties.’

‘And since when was that evidence of success? Expunge the idea from your mind, I’ll forget you ever mentioned it.’

‘Your aunt once said much the same thing. There is one other, small matter, quite unrelated.’

‘Go on.’

‘The Book Club has settled on the reading list for the next six months, Charlie said I should mention my choice for Boxing Day, on account of her having seen a copy in your library.’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Buchan, The Thirty-nine Steps.’

‘Good lord! Although I don’t know why I should say that, just because it has become unfashionable.’

‘Exactly.’

‘You think the redoubtable ladies will appreciate it?’

‘I intend to mount a sterling defence of it. I thought you might care to join in, rather than just hover in the background. Charlie says you have one of those minds that absorb everything. I’m sure you’d be marvellous with examples, especially since age tends to wear so badly on the memory, for that which one read only yesterday, so to speak.’

‘I’ll be prepared to repel boarders then.’

‘Excellent. Anyway, I mustn’t waste anymore of the dry weather.’

‘I say, I’ve got a scheme old man, thought you might care to come in on it.’

‘Can’t be done I’m afraid, I’m under strict orders not to get involved in anything whilst Sparkwell’s gone fishing. She thinks, she’s the one who keeps me out of trouble.’

‘Whilst, in fact you have been drawing her into your schemes for ages.’

‘Oh, dear. Are people really beginning to notice Cat?’

‘Well, only those who’ve known you the longest, like your uncle and myself. Actually, it’s more of an idea for the club rather than anything covert. Just thought I’d consult a little before mentioning it publically and all that.’

‘You’re beginning to intrigue.’

‘As well as the Christmas lunch, we need to start another tradition, another event, say a couple of months or so earlier, start offering members a proper schedule, our own high days and holidays.’

‘Go on.’

‘An annual Work’s Outing, but in the autumn when the tourists have gone and we can get a good party rate.’

‘And your suggestion for this first event?’

‘Get the steam railway’s old charabanc to pick us up from the club, take us to their Bay station, then onward to the old historic navy port, finally a boat trip up the river to the castle on the hill.’

‘Could turn out to be a day of soggy sandwiches.’

‘But that’s just my point, our own reserved carriage on the train, just like returning to school in the old days!’

‘Yes, I don’t mean to put a damper on it, but anyone whose been around these parts for any length of time, has all ready done that itinerary.’

‘Not as group. Taking a day-off, or do I mean a day-out. Members only and spouses as guests. Or in your case, the two of you could invite another couple, so could Barmy and Daphne too, come to think of it.’

‘You’d need people who’d realise what it was, work’s outing or school trip, varsity club.’

‘Absolutely. Have to get the recruitment literature right.’

‘And of course, a packed lunch included.’

‘Now you’re getting into the spirit of it!’

‘Er, tell me Cat, just asking out of idle curiosity, who would you invite to join you on such a misery tour?’

‘Well, as yet to be determined. But recently I’ve been making friends with the lady at number forty-two.’

‘She’s the answer to life, the universe and everything is she?’

‘Ah, yes, very funny. You know to whom I am referring?’

‘Oh, yes. Always seemed a friendly sort to me.’

‘A widow, she and her husband both worked for one of the banks that have now deserted the high street. Comfortable pension. She has this cruise bug, like so many, well, any organised tour to places of historic interest, if it comes to that.’

‘You should suggest an exclusive tour of your parent’s place.’

‘Well, I’m sort of working up to that, if our day out goes without a hitch.’

‘I can just see you motoring off, if you take on that Triumph sports of Jack’s.’

‘The open road only exists for a few hours a day, at particular times of the year, even going strictly cross-country from here.’

‘Strictly, now there’s a word. An annual dinner dance, with a band.’

‘What?’

‘That’s another possibility, now the ballroom is back in commission.’

‘Oh, right. You mean a nineteen forties dance, stroke swing band?’

‘Absolutely.’ There followed one of those pauses for quiet reflection. ‘You know, I’m beginning to warm to this project of yours. Charlotte and I could invite Mr and Mrs Walpole along.’

‘And who are they?’

‘Well, he is a recently retired defence barrister, with an equivocal reputation.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘A bit of a thorn in the side of Charlie’s father.’

‘How often have you met this chap?’

‘Only the once, I was introduced by the Don. He having cut his teeth on some of Walpole’s more notorious cases.’

‘Not like you to instantly take to someone.’

‘Well, I suppose I do have an ulterior motive.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘Charlie made a spontaneous remark which made me wonder whether it wouldn’t be a good idea to get on the right side of old Walpole. A gut response that one would do well to pay attention to. She said you and I should watch out, that Walpole would see through the machinations of you and I, in an instant!’