104: Castles and Kings

‘I went by Magdalen Place the other day, well, walked through that little park in front of it.’

‘Actually, it’s not a park, simply a common front garden for the Place, just like we have here.’

‘But everyone uses it, I thought it belonged to the council.’

‘You thought that, when it is so well maintained?’

‘So that’s it. That’s why I saw matey’s mate, from the Park, helping put back the railings.’

‘Yep, part of the restoration.’

‘And that’s another thing, why if you’re trying to get an authentic façade, is that corner house having the ground floor converted into a shop?’

‘It’s not a conversion, it’s undoing the previous attempt at restoration.’

‘You mean it used to be a shop?’

‘Well, strictly speaking, it was the business entrance of the old apothecary's house.’

‘As in pharmacy?’

‘Correct.’

‘So why?’

‘Well internally there is still evidence of what it once was.’

‘Okay.’

‘I just thought we could make a feature of it, add to the heritage, as it were.’

‘Since when were you that benevolent?’

‘I’m not, the idea is to put up a notice or plaque, saying, in effect, here was where Agatha Christie learnt to be a poisoner!’

‘She worked there?’

‘Posted there when she was a VAD during the first war. She was being trained-up to work in the hospital dispensary.’

‘Blimey.’

‘Anyway, shake a leg, here’s the shopping list for this afternoon’s polite tea that we’re laying on for Mr and Mrs Walpole.’

‘You’re giving me a list!’

‘Not only that, it all needs to be purchased from our own garden centre shop.’

‘Cucumber, carrot or date and walnut cake, Earl Grey tea!’

‘Remind me why I’m doing this.’ So said Charlie, bent over the kitchen table and doing her best to produce unfamiliar, thin-cut cucumber sandwiches.

‘Because it is Mrs Walpole who needs to be convinced, that the proposition I shall put to Walpole, is a good idea.’

‘You think he’s under her thumb?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t put it as strong as that. But I know he wants a reason to get out of the house more, or more precisely, out of the garden!’

‘Sounds familiar.’

As I reached the door to the reception room at three minutes past four precisely, I hung back a moment, skulking if you like, for I realised something remarkable was unfolding before my eyes. Charlie appeared to be adopting, full hostess mode. She was showing various invitations from the mantelpiece to an admiring Mrs Walpole. ‘And these are the photos from the Palace back in the summer.’

‘You’ve never been invited to a garden party have you Walpole?’

‘Nothing so grand for an Old Bailey hack.’

There was more, after just a few more moments; ‘You might find these interesting too, from just a few weeks ago Mrs Walpole.’

‘Oh, do call me Helene.’

‘Simply the strangest of ceremonies, we were invited by Tony’s old friend Alistair.’

‘Take a look Walpole, Charlotte, with the King!’

‘Strange, I don’t remember these from The Beacon?’ Said Harry.

‘The better part of valour is discretion, is it not?’ I said as I entered the arena.

‘Ah! Here cometh Falstaff.’

‘Welcome to our humble abode, one and all.’

‘Anthony, do tell me about this distinguished lady.’ So said Mrs Walpole looking towards the infamous portrait.

‘My late aunt, the former occupant of this address. Painted when she was twenty-five-ish. By a rather famous RA, I was always told.’

‘Please excuse me, I must see to our garden consultant's tea before our own.’ Said Charlie.

‘Oh! Do you hear that Walpole? A garden consultant.’

‘Well, a slight exaggeration, he’s getting on a bit, but an excellent supervisor, very strong on fruits and the possibilities of climate change. We must introduce you some time.’ I said as Charlie departed.

‘We’re most grateful for your garden centre Anthony.’

‘Oh well, you’ll recognise tea when it comes!’

There was pause. ‘Well, this is all very nice, delightful view.’

Helene was running out of steam and Harry had raised an eyebrow more than once, it was time to come clean. ‘I must confess, I have an ulterior motive for inviting the two of you here today.’

‘Don’t tell me, you’re in trouble with the law.’ Was his instant response.

‘Really, Walpole!’

‘On the contrary, we’re out to cause trouble for the law.’

‘Who is this we?’

‘The Trust, and a few business partners, we need your help. More precisely, your voice and skill as a cross examiner.’

‘Ah, well, count me in!’

‘Just a moment Walpole. You must understand Anthony, Walpole is retired.’

‘I’m merely thinking of an occasional, part-time consultancy.’

‘Just what would he be getting into?’

I gave a summary of the project so far, concluding; ‘So you see, we need a legal voice to represent us, wherever. Enquiries of one sort or another. Planning enquiries, public enquiries, parliamentary committees, public meetings, in court, maybe. Someone who understands the audience, whether an ex-judge or local politician or general public, someone who can monitor our own PR, tell us when to back-off, etc.’

‘Planning law is very boring.’ Was his reply.

‘But that’s just it, I have a whole building full of solicitors - plus accountants and estate agents! What I lack is an advocate.’

‘Surprise, surprise.’

‘With a passion for, and interest in, old railways.’

‘You want me sell the romance of steam as well?’

‘Well, it's not so much about Castles and Kings as the need to explain that speed is no longer of the essence, though punctuality and comfort are, that we can do the German-style mobile office train, with more space and a better view for everyone. That we all have time to stand and stare, with the bicycle in the brake van, refreshment rooms at all stations.’

‘I used to love the old station hotels.’ Said Helene.

‘We have two of them, the old Morestead Manor House, and the old Grand at the town station, that’s Gerald, he’s one of our group.’

‘Despite your plans to collaborate with the government, it must still be a massive investment.’ Said Walpole.

‘Well, you’ve heard of the huge fortunes of various online platforms, well the Trust is a minor player in all that. The trick is turning all those zeros on paper into bricks and mortar. I should perhaps add that talks are underway to get the GWR society, with all its collection down to the extra land at the Abbey station.’

‘Walpole’s a member, aren’t you? He used to abandon me on our Sundays!’

‘Well, who’d have thought.’

‘This part-time work, how much would Walpole be paid?’

‘Well, as you might imagine it’s very difficult to estimate how much of the “when and where” would be required, initially at least. I was going to suggest in the first instance that I propose Walpole for membership of the club, on the understanding that we pick up the bill for his first year’s fees at least, plus whatever he runs-up on his account. I can see two advantages to such an arrangement; it would avoid any change to his tax and pension situation, and he could sign you in, any time he liked.’

The rattle of the trolley could be heard. ‘Tea everyone?’ Said Charlie.

It was as they were leaving by the front door, that Walpole hung back a split second, pivoted, held out a hand and speaking just out of earshot of Helene, said; ‘Nicely played sir, nicely played.’

End of season eight.

End of book two.