93: Panic

‘All done, Mr Cleverly.’ I spoke. ‘And I can quite appreciate the bank’s desire to move on, I’ll do what I can to expiate matters.’ Back in Archie’s office I was met by expectant smiles. ‘Well, we mustn’t delay the staff Charlie, onward and upward.’

Back in the street; ‘Well?’

‘Bit of luck that, being able to just breeze in, I quite thought such arrangements were a thing of the past, there was no indication as to how many boxes were still in use, so to speak.’

‘You know damn well what I meant. Are we now the possessors of a wad of escape cash, several false identities and an automatic pistol?’

‘You really are quite romantic when you want to be. No, none of that, just more notebooks and old documents, masses of them, they weigh a ton! So, to the Villa, for as long as it takes for me to do an initial assessment of the two bags.’

‘Archie was really quite nervous.’

‘He shouldn’t be, they have us and we have them. In the fullness of time a local media event, highlighting our discoveries, might solve their problem.’

‘But surely, they could just get the police and some sort of officer of the court and the crooks are busted.’

‘You’re still not getting this. Remember your heuristics. Separate in your mind; empathy, feeling what others feel, from “theory of mind”; the realisation that others think differently from you. The bank, are bricking themselves over what is in the boxes of the honest punters, okay?’

‘But?’

‘Just suppose the bank does decide to end the service and open the boxes, the owners of the contents are anonymous and most probably long dead. The crooked stuff? Ten per cent at most. The vast majority is the property, if they only knew it, of well to do and influential locals - jewels, historic artefacts, documents giving title to, investment certificates of one sort or another. Some of the best of the city was flattened in the war, killing their owners. Before you know it, multiple multi-million-pound lawsuits from people claiming to be the rightful owners of the same stuff!’

‘And you think you can gain kudos by helping them avoid all that by publicising something you don’t actually know anything about yet!’

‘Just thinking ahead.’

‘We need to tell Julia something! It’s getting late.’

‘Er, text; “MT frail but okay, hope to return by tomorrow evening”.’

Charlie was towering over me as I was trying to make sense of our cache of documents by arranging them on the floor of the media room. ‘Done. Now, what have we got?’ She asked.

‘In essence, Mr Tufnell’s name on title deeds for numerous properties, across the entire county it would seem, but what’s odd is these are piddling bits of land. Mainly brown field sites, occasionally built on. I can’t see rhyme nor reason to any of it.’

‘Someone must know.’

‘Sure. But which of his contemporaries would be in the know? And how to get them to talk?’

On our way back to the manor, we couldn’t resist dropping-in at the Park. There was raucous laughter and cheering emanating from the bar. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Buffy’s gone.’

‘Gone where?’

‘Sacked, thrown-out, they’ve deserted him. He’s gone too far. The right-thinking element have told him to walk.’ Said one of Buffy’s long-time critics.

‘I see.’

‘Glass of bubbly old man?’

‘I’ll just stick with the black coffee, if it’s all the same, need to keep a clear head.’

We retreated to the lounge, only to be confronted by Prudence, pacing the ground before the hearth.

‘It’s the end, certain defeat at the next election, money gone, Rory jobless, hopeless, the shame of it, Tony you’ve got to help, I’ll do anything, I’m begging you.’

‘You need to show patience, Prudence.’

‘What?’

‘You’re local, Rory’s local, that’s your appeal. You fight for the seat with all gusto, unapologetic about Buffy, if you lose, you merely stay where you are, campaign for the local party, fight the next election after that, return in triumph, the problem is the money. Rory’s unfit to do anything else, you have to find the cash doing something part-time that will raise enough. Focus on that.’

‘That’s all very well for you to say!’

‘I know, but that is the answer, the only answer.’

‘But how?’

‘Well, you’ve got two years to put your plan B in place, hang around here as much as possible, the money is here. With the individual members. Who likes you, who do you get on with, what do they need that you can supply, get my drift? Oh, and remember, membership here, is a fixed cost in your accounts.’

‘Er?’

I walked towards the garden for some fresh air, Charlie had drifted off somewhere as is her habit. I needed time to think. As I wandered towards the pond, I was surprised to find Don Wooley, newspaper man extraordinaire, seemingly on much the same mission. ‘Wouldn’t have thought you’d be operating from here at a time like this?’

‘I’ve been sneaking into the conference area and using the fibre, it’s still copper wire in the first-floor bedrooms. I don’t think that Fiona likes me!’

‘I see. Okay, well I can get the issue of more fibre throughout the occupied parts of the house further up the “to do list” because the relative cost is falling, Fiona is another matter entirely. Fiona always has to be in the room, so to speak. She is the public face of the Park, she’s the one in front of the camera. She may not have authority in decision making but she does have to be included. Charm her Don, after all she’s an old friend of Charlie’s, Charlie got her in here.’

‘Shit! Er, look I’ve got an idea about your conference centre, let’s go inside and have a look.’

It turned out the Don was concerned about the smaller of the two rooms leading off from the ballroom. ‘So, you don’t like the tables and chairs?’

‘Most of the time it’s being used as a media room now, no point in it looking like a college seminar room when by the simple act of replacing them with a sofa and a couple of chairs from upstairs, you have the grand country house decor along two sides, and your cameras and a perch for the technician come director on the other two sides. Now what does that set-up make you think of?’

‘The posh-ist Breakfast Time or Daytime tv studio ever?’

‘Exactly! Or to be more precise the summer residence, or perhaps winter residence, of The Don Wooley Podcast. Daily rent for at least three months of the year.’

‘I like it.’

‘Not that different from your home set-up really?’

‘Who, told you that?’

‘Oh! No secrets between me and Charlie these days, I know all about her, spread out on the chaise-lounge, whilst you fiddle with your gadgets.’

‘I beg your pardon!’

‘Fear not, she’s one of the special people. Anyway, what do you think Buffy will do now, now he has time on his hands, write his memoirs?’

‘Buffy doesn’t write.’

‘Really? Now that is interesting.’

‘Apart from reading agendas, and scribbling notes for speeches, he is a cultural desert!’

‘What are you two conspiring about?’ Came a voice from the doorway.

‘Charlie!’

‘There’s progress at the stables to be inspected, sir. Before we hit the road.’

‘Well, don’t let me detain you any longer.’

‘I’ll speak to the committee.’

‘What’s he doing?’

‘Distressing a brick!’ Our stone mason’s mate, had just chucked a brick into the portable cement mixer, whilst the man himself was attending to a piece of the decorated stonework which intermittently broke the monotony of the brick work. Only the garaging of the minibus could be said to be complete.

Speaking from atop the portable scaffolding, the boss said; ‘We’ve been taking a few days off from your Magdalen Place properties, while matey rescues bits of wrought iron guttering and down pipe from the back, to make the front entirely genuine again, so the back alas, will be entirely fake.’

‘Which it’s going to look anyway because of the sure-ing-up you’ve had to do?’

‘Well, that’s the way we see it, sir.’

‘No worries! Right then Sparkwell, we can’t hang around here watching other men work, we have places to be and things to do.’

Back at the manor about a week later, Julia sort me out in the grounds; ‘Tony, I’ve just taken a call from Victoria Herring.’

‘Oh, lord.’

‘I’m sorry, Mary’s gone. Passed away whilst still at the house apparently.’

92: Sweating

‘It’s not working!’

‘No, no it isn’t.’

‘All that trouble you went to.’

‘Yes.’

‘Rory’s lost his nerve, he’s dithering.’

‘He should bowl as fast as he can, Buffy has a good variety of shots.’

‘What? What has cricket got to do with a parliamentary committee?’

‘You can draw an analogy with cricket, for anything! Besides, Buffy has always had a cricket bat by his desk since school.’

‘Even in number ten?’

‘According to Carrie.’

‘Anyway, they can’t hog the conversation much longer, and they certainly won’t get away with more jabbering about your Anglosphere ambitions.’

We were sitting watching the television in the library at Checkley Manor, with the shutters closed. The heat had forced us indoors and onto a Mediterranean timetable. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the rest of Rory’s Whitehall watchdog forced the questioning onto ‘conduct unbecoming’ and the ‘dignity of office’. Buffy remained ebullient, but looked relieved when Rory started looking at his watch and asking the honourable members to keep questions short, to which one unintended wit replied; ‘Yes well, I think we all understand the Prime Minster’s time is almost up.’

‘Oh dear, oh dear.’

‘You, are going to need, a Plan B, old boy.’ I turned my head, just to check, yes, definite signs of her suppressed smirk.

It came out of the blue, as these things always do. ‘Have you checked your mobile?’ Asked Charlie.

‘No.’

‘A text from an M.T. “Come soonest STOP Be unobserved STOP” What on earth?’

I could feel my temperature drop, it’s what lets you act without falling apart. ‘It’s an emergency, pack everything, as if we were gone for good, drive around to the front and wait, fifteen minutes.’

‘But?’

‘So that everyone knows we’ve been called away. I’ll talk to Julia.’

‘Is she dying?’

‘Of course, but this must be about something that she needs to communicate in private, whilst she can still make herself understandable, rightly or wrongly she thinks this is her last opportunity. Not easy to arrange if you think about it, Tuffy and Victoria out of the way, maybe she’s off to hospital or a care home. I’m treating it as an emergency until I know different.’

‘But you think you know.’

‘Something about father, mother maybe, via her late husband.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Town.’ Then, five minutes later, I had Charlie pull off the road. Saying nothing, I showed her instead. I switched off my mobile, then reached under the dash and pulled the plug on the computer, finally I stepped out, turned around, ferreted under the bench and pulled the plug on the extras. I then looked at Charlie in expectation. She turned off her two mobiles, showed me her off tablet and laptop.

‘This is Moscow Rules, is it?’

‘Well, not quite, just dead methods.’

‘Park here, just a short walk. But, er, keep your driving gloves on.’ I then extracted a modest selection of tools from the boot, small enough to fit in my pockets. I found a fold-away bag and then we were on our way, down the lane.

‘Where are we?’

‘Back of Tuffy’s house.’

‘Oh yes! Why?’

‘The message said unobserved, so...’

‘M.T. Mary Tufnell.’

Things were very overgrown, but the back door was unlocked. Inside the atmosphere said age, neglect, and the presence of a young female in the last few hours, carer not nurse or doctor. ‘Presumably the other two doors are unlocked, if so, the house is empty apart from Mary and we now have a plausible story for being here if interrupted.’

‘Two?’

‘This is the lower basement. Nonetheless we’ll need to lock all three before leaving by the front.’

When we came out on the ground floor I said; ‘We’ll try the first-floor withdrawing, but my guess is the bedroom.’

A few minutes later, at the bedroom door, I said; ‘Stay here, delay anyone arriving as long as possible, something like; “Tony is here about the deplorable state of the back and the yard, he always knows how to get things done cheap” etc.’

I knocked, no answer, I opened the door a little; ‘Hello! It’s Anthony.’ No answer, I went in and closed the door. She nodded towards the chair by the bed. ‘Before we talk, if you can give me the keys to the basements, Charlotte can lock them again right away.’ She pointed to them. I took them out to Charlie, then returned.

‘You took your time.’ She said it with that glint in the eye that Tuffy never seemed to notice.

‘We were at Checkley Manor.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, your summer holidays.’

‘You’ve got a young female carer.’

‘Not for long.’ A hand went beneath the covers, then reappeared, clenched. ‘My husband put these in my hand on his death bed, he was incapable of explaining, and I’ve never been able to find out.’

I felt metal in the palm of my outstretched hand, I extracted a bunch of small keys with my free hand, whilst holding on with the other. ‘Well now, these ancient ones open boxes, I imagine, in the late-great’s study, but this is a modern-ish safety deposit box key, and the letters and numbers tell us, oh, how convenient!’

‘Yes?’

‘Mary, there are different sorts of accounts, I may not be able to gain access until after your Will comes into force, it may even require Tuffy’s cooperation.’ All I got in reply was a blank stare. ‘Yes, er, Tuffy mentioned a while back you’d had him make a start on the office, but that he’d come unstuck with the day books, said they were written in some sort of code, perhaps I can help?’

‘Permission granted.’

There was a knock at the door. I placed the small keys in an inside pocket. Then collected, and returned to their rightful place, the basement keys. I remained standing. ‘I’m leaving now, you’ve put us on a tight schedule. I owe you everything, and I love you for everything you’ve done. To borrow a quote; “We will, meet again”.’

‘I believe you.’

‘Hold on here for a few more minutes.’ I said as we came to the study door. Mr Tufnell had kept the place neat to the end. Mrs Tufnell had kept it as her late husband liked it. Tuffy had just left it where he’d got to and walked away. Which was good, for what I thought I needed, was on the top of the pile. I extracted the non-transparent reusable supermarket carrier. We left by the front door.

‘Where to, sir?’

‘What time is it?’

‘You know bloody well I don’t wear a watch, but you still do!’

‘Jack’s filling station for a comfort break. How do you normally approach Archie Layton, text or phone first, or just walk in?’

‘Phone.’

‘Phone him from Jack’s, on whichever mobile you normally use, if he’s there, say you’ve a load of dosh to pay-in, hoping to get there before closing, let him assume you’re on your own.’

‘Shouldn’t you be briefing me?’

‘I don’t know. I would say, “you don’t wanna know”, but I don’t know that either. Therefore, using dead methods, it’s a series of physical cut-outs if and when required.’

Later, at the multi-story in our great cathedral city, we went fully back online. ‘Why now?’ She asked.

‘Well, we don’t want our system, our network, saying something other than the usual when in the presence of the Trust’s own banker’s security. And bank security tends to make all the running online anyway, internet giants and governments slipstream behind them more often than you’d think. Now, there’s another bag in here somewhere.’

‘Ha! Tony. What an unexpected surprise. Er, what’s going on?’ I was holding up the key. ‘Is that one of ours?’ Archie said, promptly shutting the door.

‘Well, I’d hardly be here otherwise!’

‘The thing is, I don’t really get involved in such matters. No authority, I’ll have to bring in Mr Cleverly, okay?’

‘Sure.’

The aforementioned arrived suspiciously quickly. After formal introductions; ‘If I could just view the key, sir. Thank you. I’ll use your terminal a moment Mr Leyton if I may. There. We don’t offer these key-holder accounts anymore, sir. Moved to a different system. As soon as you are happy to discontinue, do let us know. Still, nice to know it is in the hands of such a prominent client of our mainstream services. If you care to follow me sir, I’m sure Archie will keep Ms Sparkwell company.’

‘Oldest part of the new bank now, funny that. I rarely get to see it. Quite un-upgraded. I’ll be just by the door, sir.’

Right, take your time, no matter what’s in the tray, all in number two supermarket bag. Although, give the impression of sorting a little and just taking what you need.

91: The sun always rises

‘If tweed is for the country, and you always wear it at Checkley, why do you never wear it at the Park, which is just as much the country?’

‘At the club, I never wear tweed at the club, but I do occasionally wear it around the Park.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question!’

‘The club is, in essence, the town, in spirit.’

‘Very good, sir. I’ll lay out our clothes for the summer hols.’

It was the day of our departure for Checkley Manor. We were a few minutes from leaving when the inevitable finally happened. And it was I, who happened to be closest to the front door.

‘Anthony Arlington, I presume.’ Said the man at the door.

‘Who wants to know?’

‘I’ve been on the road for four hours; I’m not playing games. Is my daughter here?’

‘Ah! So, you’re claiming to be Charles Sparkwell, barrister at law?’

‘The very same. I’m not here for an argument, I just need to speak to Charlotte as a matter of urgency.’

‘Well, you’d better come in then. Do go on through to the reception room.’

He paused, somewhat abruptly, when he saw our cover stories from The Beacon; ‘You actually celebrate my daughter’s appearance in the public prints?’

‘Oh, indeed. A great source of pride.’

‘But it’s the country’s most notorious tabloid!’

‘It also has the largest circulation of any paper and their executive editor is a big fan of Charlie, do come on through.’

As soon as Sparkwell senior was seated and I’d taken my usual seat, I said; ‘When last seen, Charlotte was closing off the upper part of the house, we’re due to leave for our summer holidays within the hour. No doubt she’ll join us in a moment.’

‘Aren’t you going to call her?’

‘No, I generally find she appears when required. When she does, I’ll leave you alone to talk.’

‘Stay where you are Tony, I’d be glad of a witness.’ As anticipated, she’d clearly been skulking; ‘You almost missed us; we’ll be gone in minutes. You should have messaged.’

‘I’ll come straight to the point then. Your mother is dying.’

‘What! What of?’

‘Nobody knows, the medical authorities are at a total loss.’

‘Then how do you know she’s dying?’

‘Very well, she believes her time has come. She’s in distress and says she wishes to see you one last time. It’s all very upsetting. You may be able to calm her.’

‘Does she look ill?’

‘Well, she’s not been sleeping well, slow to rise, somewhat listless whilst going about her household chores.’

‘Well, we’re on a schedule. What do you think Tony?’

‘Checkley Manor is kind of en route, you could deliver me there, offer your apologies to uncle and auntie, then proceed up country later today.’

‘Excellent idea.’

‘But I have my car outside.’

‘Father, I simply refuse to be a passenger in your car, you’re not the greatest of drivers at the best of times. You can tell mother I’ll be along as soon as I can.’

‘Very well.’

‘That was a bit of a shock!’ So said Charlie as we observed her father drive away.

‘Let’s get out of here, we can talk on the way.’

‘Okay.’

‘Go to the mews, work the switch with the cars. You’ll be safer in number one car should you become distracted. I’ll lock the back gate behind you.’

‘Thank goodness you were here. There’s a load of stuff I ought to tell you.’

‘If I had to bet, I’ll be back within forty-eight hours. Still, I’ll phone mother from Checkley, try and assess a bit. They wind each other up, but they always calm down when I’m there. That’s the worst of it. I become the focus of attention, of concern, scapegoating as the therapists used to say. Now I’m doing well, they’re kind of lost. There’s more to this than meets the eye. Fact is, father married above himself, the house was a wedding present from Mum’s family. She made a Will, years ago, leaving what she had to me. She said at the time, it’s not much, just her building society account. She always claimed father could fend for himself. Henry Walpole is right about father, he always went for the money briefs. But I don’t know, and this never occurred to me until I got to know you, and your way of thinking, I wonder if the house isn’t in Mum’s name and he knows it.’

‘Oh, right. Does your father read The Times?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘Well, I think they still print the complete honours list, don’t they?’

‘Oh, God!’

‘Since the award is coming from our community your mother may think she’s lost you for good. No, perhaps that’s over the top. Pointless speculating with so little information.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. When father got keen about my marriage prospects, the thought occurred to me he was thinking of his own future financial wellbeing.’

‘Ha! No, best change the subject.’

Uncle was meek, and mild, when Charlotte explained her predicament. He merely suggested she should eat something and rest up a while. She said she’d phone her mother first. When she joined us again, she declared; ‘Well that’s as clear as mud!’ We all looked up expectantly. ‘She just sounded her usual self, but said she felt like she was at death’s door. I told her father was returning, and I’d be along later, she just replied, “bless you, darling”. You can’t tell sod all. What would you do Tony?’

‘God knows! You could just treat them both as if they were clients coming to you for a treatment. Though I suppose that’s easier said than done.’

‘I’ll sort myself out, then be gone.’

Later that day, uncle called me into the library; ‘Now, sit down young man, I’ve news for you. Might as well tell you whilst Charlotte’s not here, I’ve left all my worldly goods to your aunt. Now what do you make of that?’

‘Sounds like a perfectly rational thing to do.’

‘Which means, in the fullness of time, you’ll cop for the lot.’

‘Yes, but that’s not the beginning and end of it all, is it? I mean, if you drop dead fairly soon, Julia could have quite a long stewardship. I might only inherit at the very end of my life.’

‘Nothing to stop you making useful suggestions, spend as much time here as you like. Charlotte too. You’ve not made a new Will then? Since she came on the scene I mean?’

‘No. Everything goes to the Trust as before, but we have new green terms of reference for what would, is, now more or less, an entirely charitable concern. I don’t need to be worried about Charlie because she is tied to the Trust, she wouldn’t go unsupported if I dropped off the twig. Besides, she’s accumulating savings of her own now. Tell me, does death come in to everything after the age of fifty? Seems to me half my life is tied-up with other people’s Wills!’

‘My dear fellow, had you been born into the landed aristocracy, you’d have found your entire life, from cradle to grave, had been mapped out by the inheritance of previous generations.’

On the second morning, as I was piling a goodly helping of the Checkley plum preserve onto my breakfast toast, I looked up to see Julia giving me a suspicious look. ‘What?’

‘You did that yesterday too.’ She remarked.

‘Well, when the cat’s away. Excellent jam, you’ve not lost your touch.’

‘Don’t thank me, thank Mrs Gregson, I had help.’

My device pinged; ‘It looks like she was right. Forty-eight hours she said. Says she’s leaving now.’

‘Of course, she’s right. She’s always right.’ Said Julia.

‘I beg your pardon! What can you mean?’

‘Well, everyone ends up doing the right thing when she’s around, even you.’

‘Ends-up?’

‘Yes, you start off with some pretty dubious scheme, but by the end of it, it comes right, because of her.’

‘Umm. “Sparkwell, will see you right!” I could market that.’

‘Fatuous, that’s your problem. Have you ever heard Charlotte make a fatuous remark?’

‘Not in public, I suppose.’

‘Well, there you are then.’

I was in the walled garden when Charlie appeared. She stood a moment, looking around. ‘All right?’ I enquired.

‘Yes. By last night they seemed their normal selves, so... You, me, this, the Park, the Villa, it’s so much more real. Mother complimented me on being well dressed, that was a first!’

‘The world is back on it’s right axis then.’

‘Where the sun always rises.’

End of season seven.

90: Nest of spies

‘Well?’

‘Well, what?’ I replied.

‘What’s on?’

‘Nothing’s on.’

‘With you, something is always on.’

‘Today we simply wait to see what the day brings forth.’

‘Sod that, nothing comes of nothing. Time to get moving!’

‘No post?’ I asked.

‘No post. Online?’

‘Nothing stirs, at least nothing human!’

‘I’ve summoned Melisa, to be here by tea time.’ Announced Charlie as we were consuming our meagre lunchtime rations. ‘She can pick-up her copy of the placement report, check it over, before the other one goes in the post to her headmaster.’

‘At least she has a headmaster, that’s something. Or headmistress, I mean, rather than some other silly, ungendered title.’

‘Shut the door quickly. I think I’m being followed.’ Melisa scurried to the reception room window and peered down the street.

‘And whom do you fear is spying on you?’ I asked.

‘The family of course.’

‘Ah! Well, you’re a child, you should be used to that.’

‘Yes, but they’re all so evasive when you ask questions.’

‘Come on up to the media room, we’ll talk before tea.’

‘It would be highly unusual if anyone in your family was physically following you. Your father provided you with a top of the range mobile, he’s almost certainly set it up, so he knows your location, and if you’re here that’s no problem.’

‘What’s that?’ She asked looking at what I’d just put on the screen.

‘Your father’s mobile is on, and is in the garden shed at this very moment.’

‘Oh, my god!’

‘It’s okay, we’ve been playing this game for years. But he will know what I just did. It’s the way our network is set up. I mean there will be masses more you can do with your mobile in years to come if you care to learn how.’

‘I just keep getting an uneasy feeling everywhere I go.’

‘Well, in a sense, we’re all on tv now, cameras are everywhere. And if you’re sensitive to that, it’s not uncommon to feel you’re on stage all the time, unable to relax completely and just play as you please.’

‘But father and all his lot are expert in this stuff, then there is grandfather, mum’s dad. I don’t get straight answers from any of them.’

‘Well, just because someone knows a lot of secrets doesn’t make them a spy! It just means they have to abide by the Official Secrets Act, and keep their mouth shut.’

‘That’s kind of what they say.’

‘But anyway, we need to stop this anxiety of yours running away with you. You need to be confident about what’s fact, fantasy or simply stuff that is unknowable or uncertain.’

‘How?’

‘Wipe from your mind for a moment, any thought of spies or your German heritage. You are in grave danger of missing that which applies to absolutely anyone who looks into their family history, whoever they are, wherever they come from.’

‘What?’

‘You have four grandparents, eight great grandparents, sixteen great, great grandparents. Everyone’s family tree of descent grows massively as you go further back. Sooner or later, you come across people you dislike, or disapprove of. Some you may be able to empathise with a little, realise that had you been in their situation, you might have acted in a similar way. But all our ancestors experienced poverty and tyranny by today’s standards. Equally, if you could go back far enough, you’d find you are a direct descendant of someone, considered royal in their time.’

‘Okay.’

‘That’s your context, your starting point or baseline. So, with a little knowledge of German history, it should be obvious you’ll come across people who went along with unpleasant regimes as well as those who took a stand. Most people think and act in terms of day-to-day survival, even if you’re resisting a particular government, you’ll still have had to join a queue for the essential food or energy supplies your enemy controls, in that sense everyone ends up a kind of collaborator.’

‘But if Daddy’s family made money, ever since radios and electrics went into planes, they must have been in the arms industry, war profiteers!’

‘Sure. But you must ask what choices they had? Could they pick which side to be on? Come on, let us go in the garden, and have some of Charlie’s wonder tea.’

‘How are you, Mel?’ Asked Charlie.

‘A bit jumpy actually, you explain Tony.’

‘Melisa is a bit worried about her German family history, their involvement in the aeronautics industry, and the whole secrecy thing that comes with her father’s work.’

‘How old are you, Melisa?’ Asked Kenneth.

‘Sixteen.’

‘The only way to get over the old spying paranoia is to read about real spying throughout history. Anthony, you should lend her your ancient copy of Knightley’s, The Second Oldest Profession and Simon Singh’s, The Code Book.’

‘So, you’ve been spying around the media room then!’

‘Bad puns don’t become you.’

‘More to the point, how do you know about such things?’

‘National Service old boy, trained as a cypher clerk, down the coast from here as it happens.’

‘Is Barmy being asked to give consultation on this business in eastern Europe?’ Interceded Charlie.

‘More than likely.’

‘In that case he might be a bit anxious, Daphne would pick up on that, and so too the girls.’

‘That’s a point.’

‘Some people default to Moscow Rules when under pressure.’ Threw in Kenneth.

‘Oh, good lord!’ I exclaimed.

‘What are Moscow Rules?’ Melisa asked in all innocence.

I looked at Kenneth, he said; ‘You’re the great explainer Anthony.’

‘Well, the term has taken on a life of it’s own these days, some people even produce lists. What they don’t usually explain is that the expression comes from fiction, from the John le Carre spy novels.’

‘Or the late David Cornwell to give him his real name, one time MI6 officer.’

‘Thank you, Ken! In le Carre’s fiction, Moscow Rules should be followed by spies when in enemy territory, rules about being hyper vigilant. But it has a very specific context, the situation in the Cold War period when the Soviet Union existed. So, anyway, a western spy finds himself in say, Moscow, now the foundational rule, so to speak, is you must assume in all your day-to-day behaviour that your real identity and purpose is already known to the KGB and that you are always being followed. Therefore, every communication with your informer, or contact must appear innocent, unplanned. Now there is no list in the novels, just odd examples of procedure, I’m trying to remember examples?’

‘Oh, carry on old chap, you’re doing very well.’

‘Well, take being followed, we have this sense of the danger being behind us, but the real situation is likely to be very different. It’s almost certainly a team, men and women. All dressed differently, possibly with a couple of cars as back-up. The real danger is very likely in front of us... Makes one think of Nemesis.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Greek goddess of retribution.’ Offered Kenneth.

‘But that’s just where people go wrong. The goddess Nemesis, in her winged chariot, is inevitable retribution, something everyone faces eventually. She is way out in front of you, over many horizons, sets off at your birth, she is coming straight at you from the future... Anyway, that’s a bit of a diversion, what you really want to know about are dead letter boxes, crash meetings, and their relevance in a digital world.’

89: Fish out of water

‘What have you got planned, for whilst I’m away?’ Asked Charlie as I was about to wave her away at the mews.

‘Only a lunch with Walpole, so far.’

‘He’ll be able to explain father better than I can.’

‘Surely the train would have been easier?’

‘It’s actually a long way from the station, and much easier once I get there.’

‘Oh, well, enjoy the open road, or whatever.’

‘I’ll be back in time to oversee Melisa’s placement. Cheery-oh, pip, pip, as your lot would say.’

‘I’ll have the steak and kidney pudding, plenty of mashed spud and tell cook not to skimp on the gravy.’

‘And, cod and chips for myself. Something to drink?’

‘Oh! A glass of your best cooking claret please.’

‘A bottle of the house Bordeaux Red, thank you. Nice to see you getting into the spirit of things.’

‘One day, if I win the lottery, I’ll be able to afford to put-up myself, and return the favour.’

‘Stranger things have happened.’

‘I imagine you want me to talk about Charlotte’s father?’

‘Oh, not in the least. My approach has always been to avoid asking her, just listen on the odd occasions when she chooses to mention him. When she met you for the first time at the gallery, she was being genuinely respectful, she wasn’t playing the Valette.’

‘The only occasion we’d been in the same room before, was years ago, in court, when she came to watch her father in action. I meant to try and speak to her then, but she didn’t stay long. I don’t like second-hand gossip, I like to check out my facts, make up my own mind. I’m pleased to see her so happy, settled.’

‘Well, tell me what he’s like at the law then? From the horse’s mouth, so to speak.’ I said smiling.

Walpole looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘You know, that fellow they’ve got leading the opposition in parliament at the moment? Technically, he’s a bit like him. Always trying to impress the judge, rather than appeal to a jury. Hopeless for the defence, a natural prosecutor. But in other respects, quite different. Practices mainly in the civil courts. You see, in point of fact, not to beat about the bush, he’s a zealot!’

‘Really?’

‘Oh, yes. A zealot for the law, a law as seen through the lens of traditional, protestant, high church, Christian beliefs. That god bothering society of his has quite a few followers, but essentially, it’s him. And in your face, all the time. That’s what I can’t stand. So, utterly convinced of his own convictions. I imagine, and I do mean imagine, that’s what Charlotte couldn’t stick, she obviously read the bible for her own sake, chose tolerance, acceptance. I often read The Beacon, mainly for the law reports you understand, so I realise she does work for the homeless on the side.’

‘Yes, she’s been involved for a long time, persuaded our Trust to chip-in and taken a seat on their committee on our behalf.’

‘Charles, it is always Charles, never a Charlie, used to express his frustration with his daughter all the time. We shared chambers for a while. As I say, unverified gossip, not worth recalling.’

‘A little bird told me you were also acquainted with our Chief Constable Wainwright?’

‘Ha! I laughed like a drain when I saw her pictured with your Crimean gold.’

‘I got her out of bed that day.’

‘Really! No, funny how first encounters stick with you, she doesn’t appear to have changed at all, a stickler for correctness. Caught her with a left hook on her first appearance down the Bailey. Jack told you, did he?’ I nodded. ‘I met Jack, when I got him off a charge of handling. Smart guy, understands other’s expertise, behaved exactly as I told him to in the witness box.’

‘We have an informal, business relationship, I flatter myself I bring an air of respectability to his world.’

‘Oh, I’m sure. I ought to say, I’ve not mentioned to my wife that I’ve reconnected with Jack, and the likes of our Chief of Police, she has a tendency to believe gossip and pass it on without question.’

‘Absolutely. Understood.’

‘Still, a blessing in disguise, from time to time. You can bet that the news of Charlotte doing well for herself, keeping out of trouble I mean, has already got back to her mother. Terribly incestuous, the law.’

‘And for dessert?’

‘Jam roly-poly with custard, I think.’

We took our coffees to the log fire in the lounge and settled in. ‘Now, have I got this right, Brinkley is your accountant, Merriweather your solicitor?’

‘Correct.’

‘I was just getting settled in the law, as a barrister, when they go and let solicitor’s take the very bread from our mouths.’

‘According to Lawrence, Bernard’s problem is not so much the law, as not understanding judges.’

‘Oh, you bet! Most of the work may be done in writing these days, but that just makes judges even more bureaucratically minded. Bernard, as you call him, opened up a bit about Sparkwell QC giving him a mauling. Again, it all comes back to not being able to keep God almighty out of court, or do I mean, keeping the law out of the church. How can I put this politely, one shouldn’t be surprised if your friends continue to soft-pedal their relationship, particularly if they’re committed Christians? Being of that generation, they’d see Sparkwell senior as a real potential menace and your Charlotte, well as a probable victim, but also, as a possible ally.’

In order to wake up again after a heavy lunch, I took Walpole on a bit of a tour of the house and grounds beyond the confines of the club. ‘Whereabouts are you living?’ He mentioned a village on the edge of town with one foot in the countryside. ‘And how’s your wife taking to it all?’

‘Gardening. She, has become the world’s most enthusiastic gardener. Constant expeditions to your garden centre.’

‘Not really your scene?’

‘No. I’m the townie, feeling a bit like a fish out of water to be honest.’

‘But you’re the more sociable one?’

‘Oh, I’ll adjust. Just don’t ask me to do the digging and weeding.’

‘You should write your memoirs.’

‘Not the noblest of professions. And what I like to recall, well its all terribly out of date now.’

‘You could write a blog, about a townie trying to adjust to life in the country.’

‘I can’t think who’d be interested!’

‘Actually, it’s quite a controversial area, you should try reading my aunt’s magazine, wealthy townies importing their values. The eco-minded trampling over traditional agriculture. Charlie writes an occasional column.’

‘Does she? Is there no end to her talents? Where is she by the way, if you don’t mind my asking?’

‘On leave. Gone fishing. She and her pals have somehow got on the right side of the Duke of Northumberland’s gillie.’

‘My word!’

‘Is that the sea, that I can, see?’ Walpole asked after we’d wandered on a way.

‘It is indeed. One of the main reasons for remodelling the golf course, hence the new trees. You can also see the sea from the roof again, I won’t take you up there, problems with health and safety, insurance etc.’

‘Oh, I can believe it. You know the only reason Sparkwell senior isn’t a judge is he can’t play golf. No, I don’t quite mean that. But part of the social life of many judges is golf, and it’s hardly compatible with having a compulsion to bring religion into everything.’

‘You never took to the game?’

‘Oh, no! Absolute self-torture, just playing against oneself, no end to it. Mrs Walpole was keen I should play at one time, but then she was far more ambitious than I, to see me progress in the law. Do you suffer from having a partner with ambitions on your behalf?’

‘Only that I should be as much a fitness fanatic as she is!’

‘Ha!’

88: Talk of war

‘How long is this cost-of-living crises going to last?’

‘Good lord! Are you psychic, Sparkwell?’

‘I really couldn’t say, sir.’

‘The question is bothering Brinkley too. I’m currently reading his amended budget projections for twenty-two, twenty-three.’

‘And?’

‘He thinks, for what it’s worth, there should be no new projects and no further property sales this financial year.’

‘Will he get his way?’

‘Yes, I would think so. Just as well everything we wanted started, is started.’

‘But for how long is it going to last?’

‘Well, that’s unknown. The pressure on energy prices, which is pushing the inflation, will likely stay awhile. The war in eastern Europe following the pandemic following the disruption of Brexit. Mind you, there will be falls as well as rises, but you never know when it will level off.’

‘Why no property sales?’

‘Because, for reasons which are unclear, property prices continue to rise in a buoyant market, therefore also the valuation of the Trust’s assets, he hopes it will act as a hedge against inflation. Wisely, he also asserts, one should think twice about passing on rising costs in case they stifle demand, better to look for cost savings first.’

‘Not like you to accept a pep talk from Larry!’

‘I accept it, because he’s right. Don’t shoot the messenger.’

‘Does our happiness depend on riches?’

‘I beg your pardon! Is this the same Charlotte Sparkwell that we know and love speaking, the natural therapist, the fitness fanatic who can claim with some justification that joy is gravity defying behaviour, that love and happiness must be remade every day through exercise that takes us to our goal of human social connection, huh?’

‘I meant, have you sucked me into your world; of forever looking for the edge, of pecuniary advantage, financial power, have I become corrupted by association?’

‘Absolutely not. Quite the reverse. You have led me on a path of enlightenment. Just because you are no longer as poor as a church mouse, doesn’t make you a running dog of capitalism.’

Then she was pinged, and a moment later; ‘Oh my god! A message from Captain Bob. And a link, “see me on tv”, blimey!’

We sat and watched the five-minute clip on the big tv screen. It was some sort of ceremony in Port Stanley. Captain Bob, smartly dressed with medals, standing to attention. He seemed to be in charge of an elderly, but far from motley crew. They were clearly the guests of honour at some sort of anniversary celebration hosted by the town, or city as we must learn to call it; ‘Bob appears to be the star of the whole show!’

‘We need to share this with the rest of the world.’ Asserted Charlie. ‘We’re not doing anything for the rest of today are we?’

‘I’m due to check out the yacht again anyway.’ So said Charlie as we headed into town. ‘I’ll do that first, then meet you at the Harbour Cafe.’

At the cafe, the talk was all of the current war. Plucky underdogs fighting a clear and obvious enemy. That had been the way it seemed forty years ago as a child. Most of Captain Bob’s regular crowd were milling around. I kept my own council, setting up the laptop, until Charlie returned. ‘How’s the yacht?’

‘Fine, no problem.’ She started working the room as if she still worked there, then began rearranging a couple of the outside tables.

There were half a dozen souls who wanted to view the video in the end. Quite an involved discussion followed, with general agreement that the country would have been unlikely to get behind the government, if it had all happened today. Someone quoted Margaret Thatcher; ‘Our first duty to freedom, is to defend our own.’ People doubted anyone would regard the Falklands as our own anymore. Someone else, suggested Charlie take the video up to the shelter, on account of there always being ex-squaddies there, and that everyone there, knew Captain Bob.

‘You should take a picture Charlie, to send to Bob.’ I spoke. Then a thought suddenly occurred; ‘Did you ever go anywhere on the yacht?’

‘Oh, aye! She had no choice, living there!’ Chipped-in a third.

‘Smile, everyone! Only down the coast for a couple of hours, long enough to check out she was still seaworthy, as a sailing ship. But I got to learn a few of the ropes. Not that easy to organise a crew for sailing though. Sometimes we’d just go around the bay, if it was the engine that needed testing.’

On the walk to the shelter, I said to Charlie; ‘You might consider the potential of the yacht, as a training vessel, when looking to the future. That combination of a proper sea-going engine and sail only, if you see what I mean?’

‘Oh, right. Yes of course.’

We found the manager in the canteen. Someone had been doing some baking. Having shown her the clip, I then posted her the link. Charlie and she started talking shop, I sat and earwigged their chat. It seemed the manager thought it worth pursuing Captain Bob’s long held conviction that the local authority, the council and or harbour commissioners, had some sort of legal obligation to support the shelter because they had taken over from the old Seaman’s Mission. Apparently, there was some sort of historical precedent for providing temporary accommodation if the local community failed to do so. They then moved on to moaning about the perennial problem of the annual rough sleepers count, the one time in the year that the council really wanted their cooperation. The charities outreach staff were of course the best at finding and signposting the homeless to the shelter. It was in the council’s best interest to have full occupancy at the shelter at the very moment they did the count!

Someone offered me an iced bun. I hesitated, looking at Charlie. ‘Oh, go on.’ Said the manager; ‘After all, you paid for it.’

‘Thank you. Who was it who said it takes as much generosity to receive, as it does to give?’

‘Sounds like a definition of charity.’ She replied.

‘You two do realise you are talking about probably the worst council in the country, historically speaking?’ I asserted.

‘How do you mean?’ Asked Charlie.

‘Well, its been run by Buffy Trumpton’s party, almost continuously since the war. Once the country’s premier seaside resort, now dominated by the retired and disabled, the homeless and dispossessed from the rest of the country. They totally missed the rise of the heritage industry; practically destroying the work of Isambard Kingdom Brunel, our greatest engineer ever, and disregarded the legacy of Agatha Christie at one time the world’s best selling author.’

‘Whilst you’ve been living here over fifty years, and, you went to school with half the jokers who run the country now! What’s your excuse?’ Countered Charlie.

‘There’s only so much one man can do.’

‘At least you and the captain are keeping us afloat.’ The manager kindly offered.

‘Is it important to your punters, clients, or whatever you’re calling people this week, to be close to the harbour side?’

‘What are you thinking?’ Asked Charlie.

‘Well, you could pursue an alternative strategy of distancing yourself from the authorities altogether.’

‘Nothing we’d like better, but they own the building, the half-way house too. And come to that, the precinct where the shop is!’ So retorted the manager.

‘I know that look, Tony has spotted an opportunity, but I warn you whatever it is, it will profit him too.’

‘Well, it might occur to you too, young Sparkwell, if you paid as much attention to the Trust’s property portfolio as you should. I’ll say no more.’

‘Talking of youth, who’s this young lass you’re foisting on us in a few weeks time?’ Asked the manager.

‘Daughter of a family friend, smart as hell, curious about people. She asked Charlie if she could fix it, so as to prevent the school sending her somewhere they thought would be appropriate.’

‘You do realise I’m on leave next week?’

‘Of course.’

‘We’re meeting in the borders.’

‘Good lord!’

‘I’ll be driving the length and breadth of the country, at the invitation of a Duke.’

‘Blimey, as you might say. Now I may know nothing about fishing...’

‘True.’

‘But isn’t that stretch of the Tweed just about the most famous, the best and most difficult to get permission to...’

‘Correct.’

‘Don’t tell me, his grace is a reader of The Beacon?’

‘More likely his gillie!’

87: I am not worthy

‘Be so good as to bring the car around Sparkwell, I’ve been invited to lunch at the club.’ There was no response, her head remained in a letter she’d been studying for sometime; ‘Not bad news I hope?’

‘Er, no. I don’t think so, here, you check it out.’

After a moment of contemplation, I said; ‘Well, may I be the first to offer my congratulations. You have ascended to the first rung of the ladder of respectability.’

‘But how has it happened?’

‘Well, as it explains, you were nominated by someone in your local community who feels your contribution should be recognised.’

‘Not you, then?!’

‘No, and they will want to remain anonymous, so you don’t make enquiries. Anyway, the details they provide get checked out by others.’

‘And this medal, isn’t it the lowest of the low?’

‘Yes, but that is the way it is meant to be. You are relatively young, the Crown hopes you will be encouraged to continue your good works, and in time, higher honours will come your way. As with all honours however, the system doesn’t always work, and some people’s contribution isn’t obvious at the time, so they suddenly get a high honour late in life. And of course, there are ways of bestowing honour posthumously.’

‘This wasn’t the Chief Constable then?’

‘I very much doubt it, at least in her official capacity, it was the fact that last time the idea came from above, that got her back up! And the more she is forced to fall-in with us, the more her seething resentment will grow, I should imagine. Although it must be said, her antipathy towards you is a lot less than it is towards me.’

‘You haven’t got a letter, why not?’

‘I don’t expect one. Most people believe I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, giving back is rather expected, and accepted as their due. “It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than...” Besides, you have the advantage; “joy shall be in heaven over one sinner who repents...”

‘I’ll bring the car around.’

‘Anyway, I shall stand ready to be your consort as required.’ I continued thinking aloud as we motored into the countryside. ‘You’ll probably get your award from the Lord Lieutenant of the county, and your name will go on the Palace Garden Party list, there to mingle with whichever royal has drawn the short straw.’

‘Not Her Majesty then?’

‘No, not with her limited mobility these days. Unless of course she chooses to use her new buggy, she’s never been the sort of monarch that likes her public to parade before her.’

‘Whose giving you lunch?’

‘Frimley Coates.’

‘What does he want?’

‘I have absolutely no idea.’

‘Order what you will, my dear fellow.’

‘Well, thank you Frimley.’

‘I’ll come straight to business, then we can enjoy our food.’

‘Indeed; “When I pray, I pray. When I eat, I eat”.’

‘Saint Teresa of Avila, nice to know you appreciate the point. Er, the Prime Minister and I wanted you to know about a slight change of strategy.’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘It was awfully decent of you to but in a word regarding a seat in the Commons, but we’ve concluded that it would all just take too long.’

‘I see.’

‘He wants me in government, indeed in the cabinet. Well, with Her Majesty’s gracious consent of course, and I realise I am not worthy - I shouldn’t really be telling you this but I know how discrete you are - the fact is I’m to be elevated, a little young some will say I’m sure, to the peerage.’

‘Well, let me be the first to congratulate you. You have no ambitions to lead the party?’

‘Oh, goodness, what a flatterer you are Anthony. No, I hardly think I’d unite the party, do you?’

‘Perhaps not. I say, not wishing to put a damper on things and all that, but working in the Cabinet Office as you do, you’ve not been caught up in Rory’s committee’s enquiries into conduct-under-Covid?’

‘Oh, goodness no. One was investigated of course, we all were. But I was able to offer an exemplary account of myself.’

‘Really!’

‘It’s my habit to arrive early and leave early. The church in recent years has been forced to take extra security measures, I was found, at all the times in question, to be in contemplation of less earthly pleasures.’

‘Unlike all the other Mr Cummings and Mr Gowing’s of this world.’

‘Indeed.’

‘What exactly will your job be?’

‘Well, more or less the same as now, but with the authority to implement.’

‘Anything with post-Brexit constitutional implications, which is almost everything, should you wish to make it so.’

‘Yes, rather neat, all in all.’

‘You can be a scourge on whoever.’

‘Who is that lady your companion is talking to?’ Asked Frimley over coffee.

‘Ada.’

‘Ada?’

‘Mrs Armitage, she owns one of the bungalows, hangs out here quite a lot, she’s actually one of the remaining small investors in the Park company. Didn’t realise Charlie knew her. Oh, good lord, I’ve just had a thought, no, silly idea.’

‘Go on, spit it out, confession is good for the soul.’

‘Well as you might have guessed Charlie is a real going concern these days, and so she’s beginning to acquire some savings, and her financial advisor has been urging her to make investments. As a result, only the other day, I tried to point out the ground rules. But I also said, if she wasn’t motivated by profit, but sort influence, then being a small investor could at times be extraordinarily effective, and there she is, getting cosy with a prime example.’

‘How much of the Park remains with small investors?’

‘Eight per cent.’

‘Ah well, not such a bad idea to start with an organisation you know really well.’

‘Not for me it isn’t, not when you know the testamentary intentions of the other principal shareholders!’

‘Ada, how are you?’

‘Oh, middling I’d say, and you, young man?’

‘Bearing up, bearing up. I don’t mean to interrupt your conversation, but I just wished to enquire whether the newsletter on future developments at the bungalows made sense?’

‘Oh, yes, indeed. Very exciting, especially since it won’t cost us a penny! Phase one; fibre optics, tarmac round the back and proper fencing by the end of the summer, jolly good. The timing of the rest is a bit vague though.’

‘Well, we just don’t know how much repair or rebuilding of brickwork will be needed at the stables and in the walled garden.’

‘A few of us have been having a bit of a poke about recently. We think the greenhouse at the far end can be saved, by using material from the more wrecked one.’

‘Excellent! I’ll see what the builder thinks.’

‘Of course, your uncle’s book goes into some detail, that should be some guide when it comes to the look of the place. Now then, Charlotte here has been telling me about all the advantages of being better connected, electronically that is...’

‘Oh, and whilst I think of it, have you tried the new bus service?’

‘Yes indeed. Very nice bus. Very nice driver. But I think you might be missing a trick, Anthony.’

‘Oh, really. That’s interesting.’

‘You must ask the driver about passenger’s final destinations.’

‘Ah, fine tuning the route you mean?’

‘Bit unimaginative just running a shuttle service too. It should be a circular route for parts of the journey, you can take in a lot more, but hardly add to the journey time.’

‘Thank you, Ada, you’re a great help.’

‘So, what did Frimley want in the end?’

‘I’m not allowed to say. I didn’t know you knew Ada.’

‘No, not really, most enlightening chat though.’

‘What did she have to say?’

‘She spoke in confidence.’

86: Money goes to money

‘Oh, there you are. You disappeared to get the post ages ago!’

‘I’m gobsmacked.’

‘By whom?’

‘By what. This cheque from The Beacon, it’s massive!’

‘Are well, royals, that’s a different league all together.’

‘Perhaps I was wrong to turn down Don’s offer to act as agent and sell the pics on.’

‘No. Wise decision. A good reputation for discretion, is worth more in the long run.’

‘You still think they won’t mind about me doing the exclusive for The Countrywoman?’

‘It’s not what you do, it’s the way that you do it. A small regional magazine exclusive, authored by the photographer, highlighting good works rather than high jinks. No problem.’

‘You going to drive me to Jack’s garage then?’

‘Yes. As long as you promise to bring number one car straight back here and garage it, and put the car cover over it.’

‘Very good, sir.’

‘I’ll hang around for a while, then return and park out front. I know, it’s a silly conceit. But you’d be amazed how unobservant the average person is. And at the very least we get a good laugh out of it, we might even gain some as yet unknown advantage.’

‘Tuffy didn’t notice when we loaded the picture frames.’

‘There’s nothing average about Tuffy!’

I returned in time for lunch. ‘Here. Take a look at this.’ Said Charlie, passing over a print-out whilst we were sat at the kitchen table. ‘It’s a programme for Melisa, one whole night shadowing the manager at the shelter, then a day off, then a day in the shop, a day at the halfway house and a day in the office including a committee meeting.’

‘Looks good, a teacher will visit at some point, worth finding out when.’

‘Oh, right.’ Then the doorbell rang. ‘That will be her now, I’ll let her in.’

As Melisa came on through, she said; ‘Love the new car, Tony!’

Charlie collapsed in hysterics.

‘And there’s nothing average about Mel either!’ I asserted.

‘What’s going on?’

‘Tony reckons no one will notice the new car, it being so similar to the other one. He thinks we can go on pretending to have one, when in fact be have two. Our mews garage looks like a single, but is in fact long enough to take the two.’

‘That’s cool. Actually, I think he might be right about most people.’

‘Here! Charlie has worked out a programme.’ I handed over the piece of paper.

‘That should be great, thanks.’

‘Have some lunch.’

‘Okay. Dad will be here to pick me up in about fifteen minutes, said he wants a catch-up.’

‘I could show you the treatment room.’ Said Charlie.

‘Magic.’

‘So, this guy just walks straight up to me and says, I believe you’re an old friend of Anthony’s, like he knows you. Turns out it is his brother who met you years ago. But anyway...’ We were coming down the stairs after our conversation in the media room. ‘Are you ready Melisa?’

A moment later they emerged from the treatment room. Charlie and I stood by the front door and watched them go. ‘Did Barmy say anything about the car?’

‘No, hasn’t noticed yet.’

‘How much does it cost us going by car to your great cathedral city?’

‘Well, it used to cost, two or three quid I suppose, plus parking fees.’

‘I’m losing money every day I don’t pay that cheque in.’

‘True.’

‘Archie already thinks I’m saving too much, when I should be investing.’

‘That’s his job, buyer beware. Only ever invest amounts you can afford to lose.’

‘How much is that?’

‘Well, it’s different for everybody, but traditionally the rule of thumb is twenty per cent of your overall assets.’

‘What’s good to invest in then?’

‘First mistake. You should only be considering things you know about, things where you are confident of your level of expertise. Never trust people who invest, that is spend, other people’s money. Even with things like charities, those who donate should actually be able to see, literally, where their money is going. That’s why local charities tend to be more ethical.’

‘The only thing I’m meant to know about is sports and leisure.’

‘There is another aspect to investing you might want to consider, there are those people who are what you might call, investors for influence rather than profit, people who own a few per cent of a business, then exploit their rights to the full, call people to account at shareholder’s meetings, sometimes sit on boards, know their company law back to front.’

On our next foray to the Park, Charlie asked; ‘How much is the whole stables enterprise costing?’

‘An arm and a leg, probably. I’m making it half a dozen or so contracts, spread over several years. It has certain nightmare scenarios. Like almost reaching completion only to find new wrought iron gates don’t quite hang properly, that sort of thing.’

‘God!’

‘And it’s a very long-term investment, indulgence you might say. Just raises the value of the leases on the bungalows really. You can’t have astronomical management fees otherwise it defeats the point of what are in essence retirement properties. But the entire grounds will look forever neglected if it isn’t sorted.’

‘Then is that it, for improvements?’

‘Apart from all the never-ending stuff, replacing pipes, better insulation, developing our own sources of energy etc. You do it bit by bit over very long periods to try to absorb the cost.’

‘Talking of investments.’ I said as we entered the bar; ‘I spy a forum addict. Cat!’

‘Tony, Charlie. I heard that!’ He said looking up from his mobile. ‘And you’re right of course. What I’ve been a bit slow to pick up on, is how the portal, well all sorts of social media I suppose, interacts, is part of real life. I always tell myself to go into the portal before setting-out, not always possible, but you can’t just turn up here anymore and find out what’s happening by idle chat because people announce and report, post photos and videos online, then assume when you buy them a drink that you’ve already consumed all that!’

‘The online club has become integral you mean; you can’t be part of one without the other.’

‘I know by the standards of the Internet that the advertising is pretty tame, but none the less it is a bit intrusive.’

‘Well, speaking as the principal administrator, it’s either that or accept above inflation increases in fees. I spend too much time in the portal too, I suppose what we really need is a marketing manager, for the Park as a whole.’

‘Geeky, tech savvy.’

‘Therefore young. Classy, stylish...’

‘Country bred, a face, who can handle the media.’

‘Female.’

‘I’m still here you know! I may be ferreting behind this bar, but I can hear every word.’ So piped-up Charlie.

‘But you know what we mean!’

‘Sure, but it would probably cost you seventy grand to get one full-time, you know.’

‘Good lord!’

‘I say!’

‘What you need Holmes, is Fiona.’

‘Who’s Fiona!’ Said Cat and I in unison.

‘You are slow sometimes, you go on about observational awareness, but miss it, her that is, when she’s staring you in the face.’

‘Go on.’

‘The face of Jack’s Classic Cars, the pretty but smart, front of house, who enchants the rich but dim punters, is the same Fiona who once worked at Macy’s and ensnared Tuffy years ago.’

‘Good lord!

‘I say!’

‘Precisely, sirs.’

‘But we’ll never entice her away from Jack, if she’s all you say she is.’

‘You won’t have to, most of what you need is online, right? I know she likes her job, but a lot of the time she just has to sit there waiting for the next customer, offer her a package. Staff privileges when she needs to be the face here, which is more than likely evenings and weekends, plus ten or fifteen hours or whatever, done from some sort of encrypted programme on Jack’s computer.’

‘Sod that, I’ll provide the hardware thank you very much.’

‘Well, there you are then. Another drink, gentlemen?’

‘Thanks. You know Cat, I think we should get a negotiator on site right away.’

‘Oh, absolutely.’ He replied, as we both stared at Charlie.

‘What’s the finder’s fee?’

‘Good lord!’

‘I say!’