99: Recovery

It wasn’t until the first week of the new year that events seemed to slow down and I could get my breath back. I mused aloud in the media room; ‘Is it my destiny to spend my fifties as a kind of Mr Fix-it for the octogenarian population of the Bay area? To be an enforcer for old men in a hurry?’

‘No one is forcing you!’ Replied Charlie, from deep in the chaise longue, as well as The Beacon.

‘You know, when offering your private treatments, you might care to specialise in the relaxation of the older male.’

‘With the possible exception of Tuffy, the result with older men is rarely relaxation, more a rejuvenation and revitalisation!’ Then, in one flowing movement she was on her feet and leaning over my shoulder saying; ‘And you, are in no position to deny that.’

‘Oh, of course, undoubtedly.’

‘More to the point, regarding your dangerous old men, are we finally done with politics now?’

‘I certainly won’t go looking for it, but I can’t promise it won’t find us. Buffy seemed to be suggesting the other week that he could be useful to me. Which I doubt. And if he was hoping for a role in Trust related business, he can forget it. No, the only question mark, is the newly ennobled and promoted Frimley, who seems untainted by association with the aforementioned.’

‘What’s he calling himself?’

‘Lord Coates of Matchet.’

‘I didn’t know he came from across the border?’

‘Oh yes, he claims his family took refuge there, around the time of the Reformation.’

What I diplomatically failed to mention, was the conversation I’d had with Buffy immediately preceding the Christmas lunch. ‘I realise you are one of our most accomplished public speakers, your speech in the Commons on the passing of she, of blessed and glorious memory, was really quite moving...’

‘Thank you, Anthony.’

‘But there are mixed feelings about you around the club since the podcasts, and the Christmas lunch is regarded by members as, well, not at all a time for controversy, so, appropriate anecdotes only please.’

‘I’m not a fool Anthony, I’m always sensitive to my audience.’

‘Excellent, you were happy with the visuals I was able to offer the podcast I take it?’

‘Oh, indeed.’

‘I’ve decided how you can pay me back.’

‘Oh, really.’

‘I know I chided you about influence in government, but there is one area in which I’m lacking expertise and would appreciate being pointed in the right direction.’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘The Department of Transport, how it works.’

‘Road or rail?’

‘Well, that’s the thing. It’s more how they work together, when they cooperate. Under what circumstances are road makers prepared to give way to the priorities of rail?’

‘What an extraordinary question! I suppose it must happen on occasion. Still, I’m sure I could find you the right person to talk to.’

‘A while ago, when I was first trying to explain you to Charlie, I said you were the ultimate man who doesn’t know, but always knows a man who does.’

‘Well, thank you again.’

In the end the lunch went off without a hitch, more joyous than raucous, and of course we all got the chance to toast the King!

The Boxing Day book club met, though I didn’t attend. Charlie did the refreshments and reported that nothing untoward had occurred. Murchison had so far proved as mercurial regarding his past association with Captain Bob, as he was about everything else. But the garden looked good, though with the passage of time, inevitably, Charlie took on more of the legwork, or do I mean spadework?

The following week we had our first ‘all remote’ Trust meeting. Which again, was odd from the off! We were all in separate boxes, yet Charlie and I were sat side by side at the Villa, whilst Bernard and Brinkley must have been talking from separate rooms in their apartment on the Costa del What’s It! One of our Green experts, the professor of something or other, claimed to be talking from his Tuscan villa; the other from a hotel room in Bogota! Apart from the routine business, I gave everyone the official line, previously agreed with Bernard, on the fortuitous acquisition of the railway land. I also explained we might have a tenant for The Grange, and Charlie said how she might deal with any conflict of interest. At the end Lawrence announced he’d not be returning to the UK until spring, declaring he could work just as well from home! At which point the Chair brought proceedings to an end.

‘Is everything alright between Bernard and Brinkley?’ I asked Charlie once we were offline.

‘Sure, Lawrence just prefers being in Spain. It’s better for his condition.’

‘I beg your pardon!’

‘Brinkley has a condition.’

‘As in medical?’

‘Sure, didn’t you know? It’s caused by too much sitting, making standing painful unless you’re actually moving. Trouble is, the only relief is more sitting. He says he’s had it for decades. Have you never thought it odd that he’s always sitting unless he’s actually on his way somewhere else?’

‘Oh, right. Shame really, less opportunity for you to get pally with Larry...’ Ping! Another train of thought interrupted. ‘Ah! A text. From the Lady Vic; “Buy me a stiff drink, tonight seven pm, the club.” What on earth?’

‘Well, that makes sense.’

‘It does?’

‘I’ve been asked to maintain order in the Games Room tonight. Darts match.’

‘Oh, of course, Tuffy is on the Darts team.’

‘He’s quite good, seems able to relax, when he’s in the zone.’

‘Really. How fascinating.’

‘There you go, I ordered one in.’

‘Just what I need. I wish Tuffy was as attentive. It would be a start if he could remember what my usual is!’

‘And I take it this is all about...’

‘He, is bothered, perturbed, permanently distracted it would seem, by the fallout from Mary’s death.’

‘Have I made things worse?’

‘No. No. It’s just, he can’t get his head around the reality of his father not spending every last penny on his family.’

‘Ah, well I can give you a very clear and definitive answer to that one. It’s all very simple actually, you’ve met it countless times in your own life.’

‘Hit me with it then.’

‘Mr Tufnell senior, self-made man, doesn’t want any child of his to become one of the idle rich, believes they should make their own way in life. Me, son of one of his pals, is one of the idle rich. But my father and he were good enough pals, for the message to get through that the idle rich aren’t that idle - unless they want to see their wealth disappear within a generation or so. Father and mother die. And I was there, standing next to Tuffy when Mr Tufnell gave his encouragement, occasional pep talks and homilies. I got the message, Tuffy didn’t, he just picked up bad habits at school and university, whilst I was picking up cash on the side, before I left either of them! Tuffy’s father and mother did everything right, he’s no business feeling aggrieved. But once Tuffy picked up the message others thought him stupid, he somehow turned it into, the world owes me a living.’

‘I believe you.’

‘Same again?’

‘Please.’

‘And, no I don’t have a solution to the problem, other than you keeping doing what you’re already doing, making him feel useful.’

And then the Dart’s team started drifting in.

‘That was quick!’ I exclaimed.

‘Play suspended.’

‘The Ref called extended injury time,’ said another, ‘she’s helping Tuffy over to the spa as we speak.’