110: Wine, whisky and gin

For once I was doing the driving. Charlie had her head in documents she should have already learnt, marked and inwardly digested. We were bound for the old bank in our great cathedral city, and meetings, various.

We began on the ground floor. ‘Have a glass of wine?’ Said Thayer almost before we were over the threshold. He very intentionally showed us the bottle. The label showed a vineyard on a steep slope leading down to a valley bottom being traversed by a narrow-gauge steam train. The wording above the view read; “County Estates Special Reserve”, the wording below in smaller type, “Douro Valley Table Wine”.

‘I say! Most befitting.’

‘It’s a head office initiative, adds a touch of class I shouldn’t wonder, what do you think?’

‘Oh, simply oozes history.’ I reassured him.

‘Here, let me pour you one.’

‘Well, I drove here, I may be driving...’

‘Go ahead, I’ll drive back, I need to keep a clear head, not at all sure I understand what all these meetings are about.’ Asserted Charlie.

‘They’ve been tying themselves in knots upstairs. Correct me if I’m wrong, but they seem to think you’re irresponsible, throwing money left, right and centre. See it as their job to rein you in.’

‘And what do you think?’ I asked.

‘All I tell them, is all I know. You told me to judge each purchase on its individual merits, that’s what I do, they all stand up, as far as I can tell.’

‘This wine is really quite acceptable, shame Porto ever sort to fortify it really, though of course one understands why.’ I was met with blank stares. ‘Yes, well anyway. The whole point of today is timing. Or rather to “be prepared”, so we don’t get tripped up by the timing. When, the consortium jumps to become one unified company, depends on when, the government makes its minor legal adjustments. We must be clear about what remains trust property, and what is exchanged for shares in the new railway company. Right?’

‘Er, right.’

‘Yes, right.’

‘Well, onward and upward then!’

As we entered Brinkley’s office, the one with the second-best view, we were met by the sight of our dour and usually abstemious accountant sitting back in his chair with an unexpected grin on his face and clasping what appeared to be a glass of whisky. ‘Celebrating?’ I enquired.

‘Indeed, I am. The numbers are in, crunched, and pawed over. In summary, we will be exchanging your Tufnell land inheritance for fifteen per cent of the new company. If the company then wants other buildings or any cash injections they can be negotiated for after the consortium has been dissolved. Furthermore, we already have informal agreement from the, er, personal accountants for Gerald, Jack and Brian. Cheers! Oh, I’m forgetting my manners. Any of you care for an Irish?’

Lawrence then proceeded to produce glasses and one of those bottles that looks like a decanter. It had blazon on its side; “Brinkley Associates”, plus the same strange copperplate squiggle that adorns their correspondence. ‘Well, just a taste, if you insist.’ I replied.

‘But all these documents, I can’t work out where all the cash has come from for all the purchases over the last year!’ Asserted Charlie.

‘Close the door a moment Thayer, if you’d be so kind. There are appearances, Charlotte, then there is reality. Tony, who is of course a constant worry, to you in your role as carer, to Bernard and I who can’t stop thinking of ourselves as being in some form of loco parentis, has played another investment blinder. All that digital monitoring of people’s behaviour is producing cash we’d rather not have hanging around. Over one hundred and thirty new models of car, lorry - and tractor I’m told - globally, have driver monitoring systems from the company Tony so casually references as his American investments.’

‘Oh, right. But we only own ten per cent.’

‘Size isn’t everything. We should move upstairs, I sense the creaking of old beams, Bernard pacing the floor.’

Each time I enter the second floor it seems more open plan, more about spaces, fewer desks and what is office, melds into reception, into kitchen and easy chair areas, no hierarchy at all. Bernard, in his semi-retirement seemed to be truly delegating.

‘An, “Integrated Transport Partnership”. That’s what we're going to be investing in?’ Said a rhetorical and slightly frazzled Bernard looking at his papers as we all settled in the conference room.

‘An, ITP. Under the nineteen ninety-three act and the two thousand and fourteen EU directive, with the additional flourish of a statutory instrument or two.’ I helpfully added.

‘I can't believe Lawrence and I are giving all this our precious time. And the new company is to be called the “English Riviera Railway Company”, good lord!’

‘ERR’

‘Or, the ER, R!’ Quipped Thayer.

‘Oh, cheer up Bernard, don’t be such a killjoy.’ Said Brinkley, to the astonishment of all of us. ‘It’s an ideal retirement project for us. And if I may be so bold as to quote your new friend and colleague Henry Walpole, speaking recently on regional television; “A chance to finally mend the relationship between British Railways and the preservation movement, in this the sixtieth anniversary of the Beeching Report”.’

Bernard, for the first time to my certain knowledge, seemed lost for words. At least for long enough for me to notice the bottle, cans of tonic and glasses on a tray, placed beside the comatose owl. ‘Oh, help yourselves.’ He declared with a careless waft of his arm.

‘Blimey! Mother’s ruin. “Merriweather and Stollard”, “organically flavoured gin”, gosh!’ Now Charlie was joining in. ‘Where did this come from?’

‘Both Bernard and I took advantage of a new small firm which negotiates such arrangements...’

‘A bespoke gin, from a boutique company.’ Said Thayer to no one in particular.

‘Enough!’ Barked Bernard, drawing himself up, clearly determined to take back control. ‘There’s a flaw in your plan Tony. You’ll be stuck with a Light Railway Order at best, you won’t be able to go more than twenty-five miles per hour throughout your so-called network.’

‘Wrong.’

‘How?’

‘Only certain items of heritage rolling stock will need a restrictive speed limit. The railway, in its entirety will be re-laid by the same contractors used by Network Rail and to the same standards.’

‘Who the hell will pay for all that?’

‘The government, they will be able to claim, and rightly so, that new and old upgraded services are being introduced. It’s just two operators. Side by side at the old naval port, the latest passenger stock for the Sunday, up Bay Express to Paddington on the short platform, alongside the previous day’s down, steam-hauled heritage service on the long platform.’

‘And what about the dodgy viaduct, huh?’

‘It’ll get the proper maintenance. The new rolling stock will split as it always did in the old days. The modern five-car, aluminium bodied stock weighs less than the heritage train. And it gets to go faster, obviously. The avoiding lines through our station get reinstated. More trains than ever before.’

‘Very well, put in your political fix Tony. Just tell us when to jump and we’ll jump.’

‘You’re drunk! I’ve never seen you drunk before.’ She said, as the landscape passed in a blur.

‘How time flies.’ I replied. ‘Five years, now I’m tipsy on the strength of half a glass of wine, two sips of whisky and a well tonic-ed gin!’

‘Too old, can’t take your booze any longer. And your memory is going, it’s almost six years, actually.’

‘Really? Good lord. Regrets?’

‘Of course not! Well, the odd minor irritations, sir.’

‘Well, you can’t have everything.’

‘You seem to.’ Was there a note of sarcasm in her voice?

‘That is because I am content, as your pal Kenneth once said, to be a large fish in a small pool.’

‘Very good, sir.’

97: The Trumpton Interviews (part one)

‘News travels fast around here,’ is a firm belief amongst most club members. But in reality, it only travels fast when they want it to, so I mused, whilst lounging there one day. As if to confirm my thought, or pre-cognition if you believe in such things, I was interrupted in my reverie by Carrie, and where Carrie goes, Buffy is never far behind. ‘What ho, stranger!’ I declared.

‘Has the blighter come out yet?’

‘Whom? And from where, pray?’

‘Buffy, from having one of his secret recording sessions with Don.’

‘Oh! I see now. I’d somehow got it into my head these must be two hour long, live interrogations.’

‘No, no, Tony. Everything needs very skilful editing. It’s a series of off-the-cuff, lifting-the-lid on the secrets of government thing. But revelations that have been, well, spun to come out right. And passed by the lawyers before broadcast too. By the way, either Buffy or Don may approach you for access and permissions, to use the visuals everyone knows you’ve got, but very few have seen.’ Then she winked!

‘To be in their turn appropriately edited no doubt?’

‘Well, not unlike yourself, with Carry on Prime Minister. But of course, to give a rather different take on affairs.’

‘My cooperation will come at a price.’

‘Doesn’t it always darling!’

‘For once I’ll have to think, what can Buffy do for me? So, you’ve been holed-up at the cottage all this time?’

‘And been being constantly instructed by Buffy to creep across the parkland to get here, before entering by the rear.’

‘Is he really homeless without you?’

‘It’s either stay with me, or at that dump of a flat in his constituency. It’s the only real bargaining chip I have... Between you and me I really can’t see our relationship surviving much longer.’

‘It had a large element of convenience in the first place.’

‘You can say that again. He still thinks he can take a lot of people for granted, I’d say you’re the man to take him down a peg or two, Tony.’

‘I’ll see what can be arranged!’

‘How’s Charlotte?’

‘Growing ever more powerful by the day.’

‘Oh, well that’s good, no chance of you getting bored then.’

Then we were interrupted; ‘Ah! There you are Anthony; I was hoping for a word.’

‘Buffy.’

‘Yes, er, now then, we must consult, we have many matters of mutual interest now.’

‘We do?’

‘I have the ear of government, you with your extensive interests in property and business must surely be in need of a friendly ear?’

‘Isn’t there some rule against that sort of thing these days?’

‘It’s a code, its not mandatory, ministers and prime ministers decide. Constitutionally, it’s none of parliament’s business.’

‘Are you angling for a job? Money worries? It can’t be Carrie, she’s hardly high maintenance, quite the reverse from what I hear.’

‘I’ll leave you two, to it.’ She said, I could see she was on the verge of cracking-up.

‘One is never short of offers after high office.’ Buffy continued, oblivious.

‘Really? Surely after your pre-recorded candour about life behind closed doors, people will worry about how sound you really are?’

‘Oh! Don’t give me that old fashioned civil service guff. The reality of politics and civil servants is very different today, and there are many openings in the private sector. And besides, after wider exploitation by Don, money won’t be an immediate problem. Listen, we need to talk seriously about the broader political message I’m sending out, developing on your ideas as it happens, whispered into Rory’s suggestable ear. Quite insightful really.’

‘And you need some statesman-like video to illustrate the podcasts.’

‘Let me buy you lunch.’

‘Can’t be done today I’m afraid, I’m already lunching my solicitor.’

‘I never had you down as a football fan.’ I chided Bernard over pre-lunch drinks in the bar.

‘How the devil?’

‘Or perhaps you were just networking, taking advantage of the corporate hospitality. Times have changed, I always think of our local clubs as permanently occupying the lower half of League Division Four, as was. And Merriweather and Stollard billboards all around the ground, still I suppose you must know what you’re doing.’

‘Everyone needs a solicitor, especially these days. Who told you?’

‘Not who, but what. You really should think these things through, or read the paperwork that passes over your desk. We sold our facial recognition security software to the football club. The police wanted them to be compatible. But it is of course the same system that clocks you whenever you’re in the old bank. I got an automatic alert, as the responsible person for security at the Trust. My system thought you might be an interloper!’

Bernard had recovered himself by the time we were seated; ‘Well now, this is an unexpected pleasure. A free lunch from you I mean. Do you have something for me, or do you need to confess something? Come along, good news or bad? Spit it out before I order, otherwise I won’t know how expensive to make it for you.’

‘Oh, just a bit of a story to tell. After your rejection of my approach regarding the railway land, I felt duty bound to hand over the property deeds to the executor and his solicitors, for the collecting of items in the estate of Mary Tufnell. I may have no influence now alas, my entitlement is to possessions, not property after all. Ah well. Do order, whatever!’

‘Yes. Thank you. Who are the solicitors?’

‘Periwinkle and Blythe.’

‘What! Are you mad? You’ve heard me talk about them for decades. Blythe is bent.’

‘A strange choice of word coming from you!’

‘As in crooked, as in sailing too close to illegality. I want you to know I regard this as an act of personal disloyalty.’

‘The Tufnell family have always used your chief rivals.’

‘The only reason they are rivals at all, is that they cut corners; damn it I have a file several inches thick on Blythe alone. You know what he’ll do, insist on a particular surveyor going to all the properties, on bringing in an independent valuer, then clock-up who knows how many hours updating the land registry, all those purchases predate computerisation. And at the end of the day, the land will just appear in the estate accounts as of minimal value - abandoned brown field sites with no permissions - taking years to sell, yet the costs, will be astronomical! I imagine your friends will feel as aggrieved about you as I do. Send them to me when all this happens, if I could only get sworn affidavits, I’d be able to kick Blythe into the street once and for all...’

‘How much do you want Blythe?’

‘A lot!’ Then I could see a light come on. ‘Oh! You bastard.’

‘Well.’ I said, turning my palms up in a submissive gesture.

‘And most of this has happened already I suppose?’

‘They met alone with Blythe, he barely mentioned costs, they’re writing their statements as we speak, I’ve arranged an appointment for the aggrieved couple to have an hour of your time, at my expense, in a couple of days. After you’ve explained what you can do for them, you’ll be obliged to tell them it may take some time, at which point you say you are in a position to make an offer on my behalf.’

‘And?’

‘In the spirit of Mary’s Will, the Trust will take all the properties off their hands for half their value, but we will also pay the entire costs. Cash in hand, now. Mr Tufnell junior may look a little affronted at this, but his wife will say something like; “Don’t make a fuss darling, Tony has just saved your arse, again”. I’ll be at the end of a telephone line if you need me.’

‘Done. Not only is it worth it to see the humiliation of Blythe, but it will put more business in the hands of Merriweather and Stollard for years to come. But, I mean, Tony! I just don’t see why you’re so determined to acquire the land?’

‘There are two old avoiding routes for the coast line, both of which we can delay and make horrendously expensive, but at the same time, we, that is other members of what I should perhaps start thinking of as a consortium, can offer to buy outright, from a debt-ridden government, a loss-making railway line, or two.’

‘It’s steaming apple pie with ice cream day, today, isn’t it?’

95: The history man

‘What are we doing today?’

‘I don’t know, but I know where we are going this evening!’

‘Oh, a glamourous dinner, before taking in a show, on tour before the West End? No?’

‘No, they’re still in official mourning.’

‘The cinema then?’

‘No, none of that.’

‘What then?’

‘We are going to a lecture on local history.’

‘You really know how to show a girl a good time!’

‘By a professor of international repute let me tell you, who just happens to use our county as his field area.’

‘And my presence is required to what end?’

‘To better understand the machinations of your employer with regard to the property portfolio of the late great Mr Tufnell senior.’

‘Terrific!’

Our extra mural exertions took us to the more respectable of the county’s two universities.

‘Good evening, everyone, as you can see from the first slide, I have called tonight’s lecture, Our Man-made Landscape. I feel more than justified in retaining the Man, not just as the indefinite pronoun but in the literal sense too, our landscape was built by men for men, you may say; “but women toiled in the fields too”, but what they did and why they did it... Well, need I elaborate? Besides I believe myself to be too ancient now to draw censure, to be cancelled as I believe the phrase has it, indeed many believe me already dead, or at least of so little consequence as to be literally brushed aside in the rush of the canteen that was once the Senior Common Room and home to so much competitive debate over the inadequate ideas of one’s table companions. That was a joke by the way, laughter is still permitted during my little entertainments. As you will have already noticed, I am the last to wear an academic gown on anything other than ceremonial occasions of self-congratulation. It is remarkably efficient in preventing the chill reaching these old bones and at signalling to others in advance, that I should be given a wide berth. However, the key to my academic longevity and continued relevance, and this will be my final point in these introductory remarks, is simply that none of my students has ever risen up to successfully challenge my ideas, no one as yet has, in the intellectual sense, killed his tutor. No tall, angular, neurotic Wittgenstein has dispatched the old pompous and diminutive windbag, Russell. And of course that dreadful old queen, who’s name escapes me for now, has finally been banned from the airwaves, the one who made a name for himself out of hundreds of hours spent pawing over the laundry lists of Tudor monarchs, to the great delight of fans of the televisual extravaganza, always claimed he’d literally killed his former tutor, the old man’s lifeless body having been discovered slumped over his desk, which had lying upon it a copy of the aforementioned’s latest paper, pointing out over a hundred errors of fact and interpretation in the old tutor’s later writing.’

‘Slide two, is an archival photograph showing my old tutor looking down from the summit of one of the highest hills in the realm. No, no, I didn’t push him off. He was far too wise a fellow for such a fate. It was he who would point out that wherever you stood in the British Isles, however close you might think yourself to nature, in reality the entire landscape was a man-made one. Let us examine this example more closely, there, just below the summit are the scree slopes, absent of scree. I confess, I was one of those undergraduates in bygone days, who in youth enjoyed the occasional scree run, thus doing my bit to destroy the planet. The tree line used to reach to within a hundred feet of the summit, part indeed of the arboreal forest which once encircled the entire temperate zone of the northern hemisphere, its partial demise, here in this part of the United Kingdom certainly, due almost entirely to man’s cutting down trees with metal tools, in order to create charcoal fires, with which to fashion even harder metals, to cut down even more trees. The short grass that can be seen here, is the result of grazing by deer and sheep, who of course like nothing better than the shoots of new trees, which would have reforested the area...’

There was a great deal more of this, before he finally got to his principal focus of the evening; ‘Slide Ten, gives us a feel for the sheer impact of railway building, on the left, I offer you a scan of Bradshaw’s railway map of nineteen-seven, the railways had reached their greatest extent at the turn of the century, extending over twenty-three thousand miles, now of course reduced to something less than half that figure. Coincidently, the Edwardian era was also the period of highest profitability for the railways at any time in their history, whether privately or publically held. I ask you to note not only their sheer reach, but their remarkable density, even in the more rural areas. They literally divided up the nation. On the right, an enlargement of our own county, here note not only the coverage but the plethora of stations, here are halts, both on the mainline and branch lines, usually short wooden platforms from which a potential passenger could literally hail a local train or request a stop from within the train...’

What must have once been a crisp fifty-minute lecture, finally staggered to a close after an hour and a quarter, but none the worst for that, it ended with a considerable amount of applause, the kind of public endorsement few academics could claim. We hung back, hoping for a quick word. When the hall was all but empty, I chanced my arm; ‘Professor, I wonder if I might be permitted a rather speculative question about the future?’

‘You can always try!’

‘There is an interest in opening up old railways, I wonder would you consider it a practical proposition given the land is parcelled up and in the hands of so many different interests?’

‘My dear fellow, were I considering reviving old railways, my attention, far from being on dubious rights of property and the law’s delay, would be focused on the Department of Transport itself, the greatest opposition coming from within! At the time of all the kerfuffle over closing railways there were, if memory serves, about two hundred and fifty civil servants dealing with British Railways, against about two thousand concerned with road transport. I’m sure there are a lot more now, though I doubt the ratio has changed. Sorry to disappoint. Now then, young lady, have we met before? You don’t look like one of my students, but you do seem vaguely familiar.’

‘I don’t think so, sir.’

‘Not unless you’re a reader of The Beacon.’ I offered, as a glib aside.

‘Of course! You’re Charlie Sparkwell, what a delight, may I have your autograph? Er, here, sign my lecture notes.’

I confess, to peering over her shoulder, the dedication above the title on page one read; ‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Charlotte Sparkwell xxx’.

A week or so later we made our next visit to our great cathedral city. Charlie left first, in number one car, to pick up Captain Bob. Ten minutes later I set off in the other. On arrival at the old bank, we had the great good fortune to get adjacent parking opposite our intended destination. After intense negotiation over the previous few days, the Forsyth Will was finalised, with attached memorandum of guidance, leaving it up to Charlie whether she opted for being a rich woman or simply a generous one. It took but a matter of minutes for them to formally sign it, in Merriweather and Stollard’s conference room. Afterwards the two of them amused themselves in reception whilst Bernard, Brinkley, Thayer and I had an informal conference.

Bernard paced the room throughout my pitch, while the owl sat comatose but slightly menacing in the centre of the table, now Bernard’s eye was caught by something outside the window. ‘Good lord, they’re identical! I’m surprised you don’t have them wrapped, one with “his” and one with “hers”.’

‘To all but the eye of love, one sports car in British racing green, looks much like another.’ Offered Thayer.

‘Closer to the GWR’s and British Railways’, Brunswick Green actually.’

‘Ah! Now, yes, that’s just it, isn’t it?’ Broke in Bernard. ‘Let me see if I’ve got my ducks in a row here Tony. Mr Tufnell senior spends forty years buying up railway land on the off-chance BR will one day want it back, they don’t, he dies, another fifteen years pass, nothing happens, you now want Lawrence and I to waste what time we have left to us, creating a company - working title, “Steam West” - owned by Mr Tufnell junior and the Arlington Trust, to hold all these properties and update the land registry. And, because there is talk of an avoiding line for the coast, these properties aren’t worth anything on the open market, they’re just a bargaining chip to get any revived railway looking like, what, they did in Victorian times?'

‘To get the railway the community wants.’

‘And none of this actually stops a compulsory purchase order, if the Department of Transport has the will to see it through.’

‘Well, they might need a new act of parliament...’

‘Tony! This is a non-starter, imagine, every one of sixty-seven bits of land would need re-surveying, I mean what’s this one, for example; “including plate-layer’s hut”, what in the name of God was that, in nineteen sixty-five, or at any other time?’

82: Offers to treat

‘You haven’t asked what the agenda is today?’ I spoke.

‘I don’t need to.’ She replied.

‘Oh, yes?’

‘We, are taking a hike, to town.’

‘Oh lord, walk two miles around the hills to go half a mile as the crow flies.’

‘Wrong, I have a short cut, to get you to a haircut with Margot.’

‘Do we have to?’

‘Yes. I’ve lost control of your hair, it’s become lop-sided. Besides, we have other commissions too.’

‘Well, just don’t do this tomorrow, we have a long day’s negotiations at our HQ at the old bank.’

Sparkwell led me out via the tradesman’s entrance. We proceeded passed our new garage. ‘If all goes well tomorrow, Jack will get a down payment within hours and we will have secured the new car, hopefully the same colour, but I suppose the bumpers will look slightly different, like on the one we took to France.’

‘When I was sweeping out the inside, I had the thought it might make parking easier if we painted the interior white.’

‘But driver-assisted works perfectly well in the dark!’

‘But I like it switched-off, I told you it kept cutting-in when I was crashing around country lanes.’

‘I’ll concede it is inherently de-skilling. But I should warn you, once Jack has modified the new car, he will be doing computer upgrades on the old one.’

‘Right, we take a right here.’

Having descended on the town remarkably quickly, I got a five-minute rest whilst Margot performed her corrective procedures. Throughout she remained in instructor mode, they both seemed to find endless fascination in the crown of my head! Afterwards, Charlie apologised for not hanging around saying we were on a tight schedule and nudged me to pay and go. ‘What’s the urgency?’ I asked.

‘Edoardo will be leaving the workshop at twelve-thirty sharp.’

‘Yes, probably none of my business, but er... Why are we?’

‘I have the final items of my wardrobe to pick up, the formal wear.’

‘And you’re not talking about more uniforms, are you?’

‘No, formal wear. Well, it’s bound to happen. After all, you have various paraphernalia; even a complete morning suit, not to mention proper black bow ties, a couple of stiff collars, even a white mess jacket!’

‘You don’t have any particular event in mind?’

‘No.’

‘You, young lady, are getting ideas above your station!’

‘We’re all old friends and we trust each other.’ So said a beaming Bernard as Charlie was pouring out coffee. None of us seemed to have an answer to that, so his comment was left hanging in the air.

The silence was broken by Brinkley; ‘Our coffees always taste so much better when made by a proper barista.’

‘Why, thank you, Brinkley, though one shouldn’t underestimate the benefit of the china service, insisted upon by the late Mrs Hayward.’ She replied.

‘Oh, do sit down Ms Sparkwell, we’re all equals now. My point is, Tony, Lawrence and I are full voting board members of the Trust, Charlotte, you attend all meetings and get to vote on charity matters. You are also contracted by the Trust as are Lawrence and myself. The Trust owns this building, a large chunk of Crawford Park and much else besides.’

‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave.’ Offered Brinkley.

‘Please don’t interrupt Lawrence! All I’m saying is, can we for the purposes of this meeting all agree to hearing about the Mrs Tufnell and Captain Forsyth wills, Tony’s request for extraordinary funds, and, consequently, how one should approach this afternoon’s meeting of the trustees?’

‘Yes.’ I replied.

‘So, firstly, Tony, you have given me a copy of Mrs Tufnell’s bequests, now I don’t see how the matter pertains to anyone but yourself, unless and until you take possession of anything and subsequently care to gift it to the Trust. The situation with Captain Forsyth is potentially more complicated. You, Charlotte, will have executor’s rights until all disbursements are made. But anything turned into cash, will up the residue that is intended for our local homeless charity. However, possessions not specifically mentioned, could simply be gifted by you, to anyone. I suggested to the captain, that he specify how the yacht should be disposed of. He said he had hopes, given - in his words - it’s “historical uniqueness”, that it might go to the Maritime Historical Society. I have spoken to Thayer; he has links to the upmarket boat dwellers and the word has come back that the vessel might be expected to reach in excess of five million. Obviously, a real incentive for the homeless charity. My advice, get the captain’s intentions in writing, otherwise you will be left to decide, and you may feel a conflict of interest since you sit on the homeless committee. Questions?’

‘Yes, the reason I mentioned Mrs Tufnell, is that it will probably fall to me to take charge of her late husband’s papers, he had some sort of business relationship with my father, not as yet fully determined. I suppose there is the outside possibility of other occurrences, not unlike the Crimean gold.’

‘Good lord!’ Said Bernard.

‘Just a hunch you understand.’

‘You’re more than welcome to cross reference with anything in the Trust archive anytime.’ Added Brinkley.

‘I’ll talk to Captain Bob again,’ said Charlie, ‘but if he doesn’t act, then my priority would be to find the right home for the yacht, and if it involved a sale, then the cash goes to the shelter, end of story.’

‘Thank goodness Tony has no involvement, he’d instantly see a myriad of money-making opportunities in the situation! Which brings us neatly to your request for funds.’

Ignoring Bernard’s sarcasm, I pitched in; ‘Yes, we wish to avail ourselves of the opportunity to invest in our last new petrol car. The latest version of what we’ve got now. However, since it will be an appreciating asset, like the current one, we propose running the two cars, one each.’

‘Ah. Mmm.’ Said Bernard.

Then, after a pause, Brinkley smiled and said; ‘I did a while ago suggest to Charlotte that the existing car might be reassigned to her, in her role as Carer.’ Oh, Larry, I thought to myself, what a sweetie you are. ‘And of course, Tony could continue with the new car under existing arrangements.’

Bernard looked at Brinkley like a parent upon an innocent child. ‘You and Charlotte should form a pair at Bridge sometime, whilst Tony and I make for the poker room.’

Then, as I was thinking, no need to invoke special clauses or indeed make concessions at all, Brinkley replied; ‘It’s against your religion Bernard, as I’ve often had to remind you.’

‘Ah! Yes, now, how is the Church of England, gentlemen?’ I enquired.

‘Much as always, Lawrence still does the cathedral books from time to time.’

‘And what about you?’

‘Oh, very occasionally I may arbitrate over minor matters as Chancellor for the diocese.’

‘Oh my god!’ Said Charlie; ‘You’re the Grand Inquisitor! Defrocked any priests lately? Burnt any witches?’

‘The camera for each seat is voice activated Charlie, if you’re remote it’s just the usual boxes on the screen, but if you’re in the room, then from certain angles it gives the illusion of having a swivel head, that’s why it’s called an Owl.’

‘Ladies and gentlemen, if I may call this meeting to order, item one...’ To give Bernard his due, as chair he has a masterful command of the room, dovetailing perfectly with Brinkley as the humble secretary who only on very rare occasions needs to pass him a note, or indeed speak at all. Our other trustees were appearing remotely, one from Geneva where he was giving some sort of expert advice to one of the sprawling committees of the IPCC. The other, from his brutalist breeze block study in a university department whose reputation thankfully rose well above the architecture. Bernard chose his words with care; classic, vintage, historical, along with appreciating asset, low usage, minimum emissions etc.

‘So, that was your scheme, ha! The old boy network would give you the grand cathedral wedding you think you deserve.’

‘Only idle speculation really, just the way my mind works I’m afraid.’

‘Nice try sunbeam, nice try.’

81: The fall and rise

Good Friday found us at Checkley Manor as usual. ‘Does anyone remember the old-style fun fairs?’ I said to the kitchen table at large. ‘How they always had a shooting gallery, you could shoot down figures one at a time in a long line...’

‘And!’ Said Uncle.

‘Buffy’s happy few, his band of brothers are falling at an ever-increasing rate. And yet, new figures keep appearing as if by magic.’

‘Are you going to do anything about Tuffy’s attempt to blackball him from the club?’ Asked Charlie.

‘Ah, thank you for reminding me.’

Later, when alone in the grounds I put in a call to Cat. ‘Er, actually old man, Tuffy’s complaint is in the pending tray for the time being; fact is, Buffy’s membership is currently lapsed.’

‘Explain.’

‘Well, you know how membership renewal depends on the receipt of fees and the clearing of your account, well Buffy has stood a lot of bar bills in the last year, he’s been sent a reminder and all that, but he has slipped over the renewal date.’

‘I see. I think I might just drop a hint to Carrie.’

‘Might be as well, apparently, they’ll be at the cottage this weekend, bit embarrassing if she has to sign him in! Also, you might care to explain to Tuffy that under our rulebook you can only expel someone for behaviour whilst at the club, and that doesn’t include when the premises are being used for other purposes.’

‘Cat?’

‘Tony, old son.’

‘You couldn’t do me a quick favour, check bookings for the ballroom and if it’s free on Easter Monday, book it out to me for the whole day.’

‘Carrie!’

‘Ah, Tony. The voice of sanity.’

‘Bless you. Er, sorry to do this, bit embarrassing really...’

‘I doubt it, not when viewed from Downing Street.’

‘Yes, quite, the fact is, Buffy’s membership of the club has lapsed, failure to pay fees and settle his account.’

‘Shit! I told him, when I renewed. Hang on.’

For once she forgot to press mute; ‘I’m not bloody made of money! Tell him the cheque is in the post.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes!’

‘Will it bounce?’

Then, after a long pause; ‘Tony?’

‘Carrie.’

‘He says there is a cheque in the post.’

‘Tell him, if he plans on visiting, make it Monday, but you may have to sign him in if the money hasn’t arrived.’

‘Very well, and Tony, I haven’t forgotten you were the one who persuaded me to return to the blighter.’

‘Running out on us again!’ So said Uncle when I announced our intention of leaving a few hours early.

‘Well only by half a day.’

‘All the same, what progress in the vines?’

‘I’ve brought you up to date with the pruning and tying.’

‘And what moves in the woods Charlotte?’

‘Your new eastern European hiring is a lot further on with the charcoal burners, than he is with his comprehension of English!’

On arrival at the Park, I took a direct line to the office, there to commune with the club secretary. ‘The ballroom is all yours, the PM’s debts got paid by money transfer late Friday, from some unrecognisable company account at a bank on Grand Cayman, and the man himself is working the room, the lounge that is, at this very moment.’

‘Excellent!’ I replied, exiting immediately towards the veranda bar, that being the best vantage point from which to observe Buffy’s progress. Much to my surprise, I found Bernard and Brinkley propping up the bar, in the company of Henry Walpole no less. ‘I say, what ho, Walpole! You know it’s a complete waste of time touting for briefs from Bernard, he likes to do his own advocacy.’

‘You forget Anthony, I’ve been put out to grass, by my wife.’

‘Yes of course, must be a bit of a wrench at times. And the two of you, a rare sighting indeed.’

‘Well, we are semi-retired Tony, Lawrence and I are entitled to our occasional indulgences. And as Walpole was saying, it’s always worth taking a look at the locus in quo.’

‘Something my old pupil master used to say.’

‘You should be swapping old anecdotes about Sparkwell QC, Charlotte’s daddy. Bernard’s suffered at his hands too!’

‘What brings you here Tony?’ Asserted Bernard.

‘Oh, just on our way back from my uncle’s place.’

‘Here to keep an eye on our esteemed Prime Minister?’ Suggested Brinkley.

‘Yes, alright then. Talking of which, would you excuse me a moment?’

‘How are you Prime Minister?’

‘Ah! Anthony. Under savage pressure as it happens.’

‘Ah, yes. Playing the international statesman, the war leader in waiting. Must take it out of you, but goes down well with the voters no doubt.’

‘I trust you’re not here to gloat?’

‘By no means. Indeed, I’m here to offer you what I just know you will find an amusing diversion from the cost-of-living crisis.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘A short commemorative video of your previous visits.’

‘What!’ A micro expression of alarm crossed his face.

‘If you and Carrie would care to step this way, I’ve arranged a little private viewing in the ballroom.’

I whispered to Charlie, to ask her former handler come mentor from the security detail to lock us in, from the outside, and after a moment or two’s chat, he did!

‘What’s going on? Where’s my protection gone?’

‘I thought the four of us might appreciate a little privacy.’

The large screen worked remarkably well, despite the variable quality of the images in Carry-On Prime Minister. It also benefited from a little program I’d acquired for the removal of layers of ambient noise from audio recordings. Our little half hour movie featured sequences all the way from Buffy’s first landing on what was now the eighteenth green, to his post-run Haka!

When it finally came to an end there was a long silence before Buffy spoke; ‘Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is how to deliver a threat. Notice how he saves your blushes Charlie; you’re just simply portrayed as the innocent waitress. The editing is outrageous, talk about hashtag - context collapse!’ He then buried his face in his hands for about a count of ten, before asserting; ‘So, who apart from us has seen this?’

‘Only my co-producer Barmy, and my co-owner the Earl.’

‘You sure about that?’

‘Oh, yes. And of course, it can stay that way.’

‘I can burn you, as much as you can burn me.’

‘Well, no not really.’

‘What?’

‘All I have to do is send a copy of this to the media. You on the other hand have had two and a half years to fatten your dossier on me, and got nowhere.’

‘You can’t possibly know that.’

‘True, but what I can know with one hundred percent certainty, is that I never do anything, only the Trust does things, and it was entirely reconstituted before the summit. You, are up against a legal brick wall.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Full implementation of the Flotterton Manifesto.’

‘What?’

‘Everything outlined in Rory’s speech.’

‘I know what you bloody meant! That speech you wrote for him was pure fantasy.’

‘I didn’t write a word. I admit I was present when Rory, relaxing in the lounge after a massage from Charlie, came up with his ideas whilst staring deep into the log fire. Besides it doesn’t have to be practical. It merely has to inspire, create the right direction of travel. Oh, and one other small thing. A safe seat for Frimley Coates. After all, in fifteen years or so, he’d be your natural successor.’

‘Aren’t you forgetting something Tony?’ Chipped in Carrie; ‘All the other people who have him by the short and curly what’s it’s!’

‘Am I Buffy?’

There was another pregnant pause, filled only by Charlie asking innocently; ‘How did all this arch enemy stuff start anyway?’

‘It all goes back to the Scripture Knowledge Prize. I noticed just the other day that you’d claimed to have won it, again.’

‘But I did!’

‘Over the heads of better men, by the most brazen swindling methods, “breath-taking impertinence” - weren’t those the headmaster’s words?’

‘Something of the sort, can’t say I remember precisely.’

‘No, they say psychopaths don’t remember pain. But what I do remember was that the Head went on to give a speech bemoaning the passing of corporal punishment, and his inability to tenderise your arse.’

Then Buffy began to laugh. A moment later he said, smiling; ‘Anthony, you are a one-man walking nudge unit.’

‘Well thank you, you’re too kind, Prime Minister.’

‘I don’t buy it.’ So said Charlie as we were crossing the carpark.

‘Just as well, cos’ it ain’t for sale!’

‘What went down back there? You had him on the rocks, yet he walked away with a spring in his step.’

‘I showed him a way out, not just from me, but from everyone else gunning for him. It’s the game Charlie, the motivation is in the thrill of getting away with it.’

64: The great bank heist (part one)

‘An invitation, sir.’ So said Charlie shoving the silver salver under my chin.

‘How do you know?’

‘I got an identical envelope.’

‘So, you’re standing there, waiting for me to open it, when you already know what’s inside.’

‘I wouldn’t want to spoil your enjoyment.’

‘I see. Oh look, who’d have thought, an invitation to attend upon the day that County Estates open their new branch.

‘Should be a laugh.’

‘Absolutely. We shall combine it with a visit to Bernard, I’ve got all of father’s Trust related documents sorted and ready to pass over. And, with your cooperation, we could have some fun viz-a-viz, the basement.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘I’ll explain later. Meanwhile you might add these invitations to the growing collection above the fireplace in the reception room.’

‘I notice Mrs Hayward’s portrait remains unhung, with her face turned to the wall, sir.’

‘There are some things it’s better she doesn’t see.’

Arriving at the old bank, we paused to survey the properties on offer in the window display. Most, as one would expect, were for desirable rural homes plus a few farms. One stood out, shouted-out, its exceptionalism. ‘Melbury Buildings!’ Exclaimed Charlotte; ‘All I did was mention it in passing at the first online Owl meeting. You wouldn’t think a place like this would “soil their hands” with it.’

‘Ah, well that’s part of the deal; that business should trickle down from the top of the building to the bottom, then creep along the street to the new bank.’

‘Who was Melbury anyway?’

‘You’ve never heard tell of “One-coat” Melbury?’

‘Sartorially challenged, sir?’

‘Well, no doubt he was, on many occasions. But no, the sobriquet came from him having started-out as a jobbing builder. New residents would move in and discover his one concession to interior design was a single coat of whitewash.’

‘Whitewash?’

‘An early soluble paint, the emulsion that didn’t stick. You must have found yourself pressed-up against a few old barn walls in your time, only to discover later you were covered in white power.’

‘What an imagination you have. But he must have made it big in the end?’

‘One of the first to call himself a developer, became a councillor, chair of the Bay Council planning committee.’

‘Named the building after himself then?’

‘His vanity soon caught up with him. Took to cutting corners in a big way, went bankrupt. Then it emerged, he’d offered and taken backhanders, did time for it.’

‘Blimey.’

‘The gossip was that he liked to check-in to various B&Bs and Guest Houses all along the coast road, sign his name simply, Melbury, hoping to be taken for a Lord by gullible proprietors.’

‘How do you know all this?’

‘Well, I overheard odd things as a child, but he does appear in father’s office day books quite a bit, not the gossip as such, but the old man was clearly keeping an eye on this particular development years before the Trust actually acquired it.’

‘But if this Melbury had cut corners...’

‘Nerves of steel father, hung-on through the whole bankruptcy thing, the discovery building standards hadn’t been met. Arguments over obligations to tenants, government covering the cost of bringing it up to standard. The legal obligation to put it on the market, waiting through the lack of interest.’

‘So, in the end he gets it at his price.’

‘Precisely.’

‘I’m Thayer.’ Said the man who approached us as we entered the cut-above property emporium, speaking with a distinctly local accent, from north of the Moor if I had to guess.

‘Pleased to meet you. I say, pardon me for being so forward and all that, but I thought your lot all buggered off to Essex in the seventeenth century?’

‘We did, but we weren’t all convinced by the puritanism, neither did we want to build a new England, so we came home. I was told you was local, but didn’t sound it.’

‘Ah, well, the old school. Anyway, let me introduce to my PA, Charlotte Sparkwell. Do excuse the cardboard box, more work for Merriweather.’

‘Welcome to County Estates, Ms Sparkwell. Much more than a PA, if the press is to be believed.’

‘Greatly exaggerated, sir.’

Then we were interrupted; ‘Tony! Ms Sparkwell.’

‘Charlie has a present for you Bernard.’

‘Good Lord!’

‘The gap in the Trust archive has been closed, and is indeed intriguing.’

‘Excellent, Lawrence will be exited.’

‘They are the original documents, I’ve scanned those I’ll want to look at again, I think we need to make this a bit formal, demand a receipt and all that.’

‘My goodness, I’ll ring upstairs, we can creep up the back staircase, once you’ve had a good look around.’

‘Talking of which, what’s the current situation with the basement?’

‘I’ve no idea. Haven’t been down there since the reinforcements for the lift shaft were done. Dusty and a lot of rubble I should imagine.’

‘Are the doors still locked?’

‘Doors? Plural? Tony, you’ve had access to this place a lot longer than Lawrence or I!’

‘Yes, but I don’t hold any keys.’

‘Ah. Point taken. What’s the sudden interest in our nether regions?’

‘It’s in the box, if you can read between the lines. A search for any and all keys please.’

‘Very well, this may be altogether too much for Lawrence, he may need to take one of his power naps.’

To cut a long story short, I managed to cause a good hour’s disquiet on the two floors above whilst we enjoyed snacks, nibbles and a glass of something, all the time interrogating Thayer about the top-end property market throughout the county. Bernard looked quite flushed when he finally returned. ‘This is your receipt, this is the key for the basement that’s kept at reception for whenever the lift engineer turns up, and that, is the ever-expanding collection of unidentifiable-s!’

‘Excellent, shall we proceed?’

‘Can anyone come along?’ Asked Thayer.

‘The more the merrier.’ I replied.

The lighting was better than I remembered, updated when the lift was seen to no doubt. I pointed out to my companions, the scars on the walls and floor. ‘Once upon a time there was a cage, with a locked gate, with the strongboxes and safe inside. Now, that should be it.’ I kicked aside various collapsed old packaging and debris.

‘Should be what?’ Asked Bernard.

‘The original safe of the old bank.’

‘Doesn’t look anything like a safe.’

‘Top loaded, like an old washing machine, there you go, two keyholes.’

‘Good lord! Well, we sure as hell haven’t got keys here for anything like that!’

‘You were lying.’

‘Well...’

‘You spent the whole time watching the rest of us, you knew the layout, the fact it was used as a safe room. You’ve already got the keys.’

‘It was question of flushing Bernard out onto open ground. I needed to know what he already knew. He, will wait for Brinkley to go through the documents with his accountant’s eye for misplaced details. Eventually the two of them will realise there is a story, and that some of the documents are missing, but of course they can’t demand them. As for the keys, it’s not a question of getting the right ones, but whether they will turn the locks which haven’t moved for at least sixty, possibly a hundred years!’

‘Well?’

‘Well, what?’

‘What do you expect to find inside?’

‘I don’t expect anything. Now, time for an unannounced visit to Cat Mackintosh.’

‘Don’t tell me, he has safecracker on his CV along with everything else.’

‘Not quite, but he will know about cleaning, lubrication, rust removal etc. I’m also expecting to get his situation report on the state of the Park, post Summit.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘I asked him to do a sweep, for any bugs left behind by the conference dwellers.’

‘Foreign spies, disguised as diplomats?’

'Oh no, I’m much more concerned about our own side.’

56: Domestic bliss

‘And this, is the Media Room.’

‘Command and control, eh!’

‘Assuredly, and especially if Buffy banishes me from the Park during the Summit.’

‘Two desks, so you can both enjoy the view?

‘Indeed.’

‘Bit hard on Charlie though, she appears to have only a laptop and a tablet whilst you’ve got, well, everything.’

‘Just a matter time, when she needs more, more will be provided.’

‘What’s the empty space by the back wall for?’

‘That will be the late Aunt’s chaise longue, once it returns from being re-upholstered and having it’s horse hair rearranged - or whatever it is they do to it.’

‘Might I have a word, gentlemen?’

‘See, she can still appear from out of nowhere.’

‘May one enquire, what happens tomorrow morning, when the Dragon Concierge discovers Northcott Electrics parked in your parking space, sir?’

‘Shit! What time is it?’

‘Almost 9,00pm, sir.’

‘Er. Right. Okay. Only an old-fashioned person to person phone call will do this. Now, you two, turn and face the wallpaper, it’ll be a distraction. Thankfully you’ll only hear one side of this. It’s ringing. Marietta! Good evening... My Apologies. This is just by way of a quick courtesy call to say that Sparkwell will be arriving shortly with an overnight guest. ..Yes, he is actually rather a good prospect as a future tenant, do you know Northcott Electrics? ..He is in fact the owner, unfortunately his car is in dock, he’s having to use one of the firm’s vans, Charlotte will escort him to my parking space and give him a quick tour of the flat, before returning here. ..Well yes, which is why I thought it only prudent to have a word. ..Just the one night, unless of course he’s really taken with the place and signs on the dotted, then you’ll be stuck with him. My pleasure, as always, bye for now.’ Suddenly the room seemed very quiet. ‘Well, don’t just stand there, go to it!’

‘Satisfied?’

‘Blissful. Are you satisfied, I can’t think of anything we’ve left untested, and the video works a treat, yes?’

‘I know, you can even see the curtains move in the breeze. Shame my online support is about to come to an end.’ Then her work phone rang. ‘Okay I’ll pass that on.’ And after a pregnant pause; ‘Oh, okay. That was my handler, he said we’re on, we get a month of the normal club, from the middle of April. But, strictly members and staff only. No guests, no events and we’ll have to be content with the discretely armed strangers coming and going. He suggested you only actually announce it from within the portal along with the official, at least one jab plus fifteen minute test rules.’

‘And the other thing?’

‘Nothing really, just he’s heard a whisper that enquires have been made by Germany as to whether spa treatments will be available during the four days.’

‘Bugger! Baden-Baden, I never thought, I doubt Buffy did either.’

‘What?’

‘That’s the one thing they, can look down their noises at us, with, as it were, so to speak. Of course, all they’ve been seeing so far is crawfordspa.com and thinking, “oh, yes!” Get me Bernard, now!’

‘Hang-on, there, it’s ringing.’

‘Bernard, crises, drop everything, all hands to the pump, oh lord, find out who owns all the land adjacent to the Park, as of today, especially to the north, say, all the way to Grimpen Cross, and if anything is currently for sale, I want expressions of interest - everything. Now, don’t ask what it’s about, I hope I’m wrong. Just, carry on enjoying your morning coffee and your daily Kit-Kat.’

‘I’ve never seen you in a panic before!’

A couple of days later, having dropped Charlie at the Park, I drove on for a face to face with Merriweather. ‘What, no Sparkwell in tow?’

‘No, she’s doing her daily training and prep at the Park. What, no Brinkley?’

‘Best between ourselves on this one.’

‘You have the self-satisfied look of someone who knows they know more than the other person and is pondering as how best to exploit their advantage.’

‘Nonsense, I think you’ll find what I have to report rather amusing, sit thee down.’

‘Well?’

‘It’s not the Swiss, it’s your own side making enquiries.’

‘Umm.’

‘Firstly, changes to the Trust are done, give me your signature today and we’re squeaky clean and state of the art. Ms Sparkwell’s enhanced role on the charitable side is enshrined, and three out of the five suggested Trustees are already on board. Lawrence flies to Spain this week, confident that he’s on top of the post-Brexit pandemic regulations, we can come and go as we please. So, that’s all fine and dandy, no need for panic or paranoia on anyone’s part. I understand you’re thinking of keeping Mackintosh close at hand?’

‘Don’t push it.’

‘So, my enquires? Well now, officially none of the perimeter properties has changed hands since I last checked. Now, I took it upon myself to speak with the estate agent who gets the most work out that way, nothing up for sale, no informal approaches. However.’

‘Yes.’

‘You know how all property details have been put on pdfs for years now. Well, around these parts, someone has been quite thorough about indexing when archiving - and what with the industry being so incestuous...’

‘The term is digital curation; they’ve realised they’ve got an emergent search engine.’

‘Really, fascinating. And therefore...’

‘A mountain of metadata too.’

‘He went away and got an answer remarkably quickly. Firstly, within twenty-four hours of your old school chum’s arrival in Downing St. the whole of the Park area was searched from a device in the Cabinet Office!’

‘That was expected.’

‘Was it. The other sign of activity was about ten days ago, from a device in the, so apply named, Department for, Environment, Food and Rural Affairs.’

‘Official or politician?’

‘Couldn’t say.’

‘The minister is one of Buffy’s happy few.’

‘Is he. Well, that’s all what you’d expect isn’t it? A flurry of interest with your conference coming up.’

‘Yes, but that’s all organised in the Cabinet Office.’

‘Perhaps they feel frozen out? Anyway, let’s move to the conference room for the signing.’

As we came through the door there was a delivery package set in the dead centre of the large oval table. ‘Oh look, you’ve bought yourself an Owl, how forward thinking of you.’

‘Yes, trouble is, I can’t find anyone in the building willing to volunteer to set it up.’

‘Worry not, I’ll give you Fin Heptonstall’s email.’

‘Who, he?’

‘You’ve met him.’

‘Have I?’

‘He was here for about a week setting up your security system!’

‘Ah, yes, the chap Lawrence took a fancy to. Anyway, take a look at how we’ve mangled Sparkwell’s wish list, that’s the only possible point of contention.’

‘Mission statement.’

‘Whatever. Now, I’m going to be signing-up too; so, we’ll need two of the right sort of witnesses, one had better be Stollard himself, and let’s see if young Benson is in the building...’

‘Well Tony, are we all systems go?’

‘Charlie won’t like it.’

‘Yes, but with the utmost respect, she doesn’t have to. You’re the one who has to positively like it, or you should kill it now whilst you have the chance. These are the biggest changes anyone’s ever made.’

‘I love it.’

‘Thought you might. Gentlemen...’

As Bernard was showing me the door, I asked; ‘Any thoughts on how we spin this to Charlotte?’

‘Lawrence made one of his rare public witticisms when we were brainstorming it all; “This is big C conservation, not Green pipe-less dreams”.’

Back in the fresh air I reached for my mobile and switched it on, only to freeze on the spot. I took a minute or two to collect my thoughts, then like so many others, proceeded to do what I’d long decided to do, when the inevitable news came from Windsor.

53: Sparkwell's return

‘Where the hell are you?’ Said Charlie, down the line.

‘At the Villa.’

‘You’ve moved us!’

‘Only me and my stuff, take a look around, you’ll find you’re still fully intact. What’s that crash?’

‘I just dropped my fishing tackle. Oh, now I see, I think? The camera has gone from the treatment room I notice.’

‘Yes. I’m speaking to you from the Media Room, first-floor front. But anyway, I couldn’t move you without your consent, but then I couldn’t show you what you might wish to move to; without moving myself - if you see what I mean?’

‘That might be logical in your world but I’m not sure... I’ve only been gone a week; you must have been scheming this for ages.’

‘Well not really. The builders finished here the day after you left. You commandeered the car so I had to leg it to Jack’s for a courtesy vehicle and he was moaning about how much his lads were underemployed and suddenly I had a brainwave...’

‘Don’t bother.’

‘All done for free, payback for our road trip. Anyway, get yourself over here. It would appear I’ve got some even bigger news you may have reservations about.’

‘Oh my god, what?’

‘Have you been living in total isolation?’

‘Of course.’

‘Not listened to the news?’

‘Why would I?’

Charlie arrived rather recklessly. I’m sure some curtains must have twitched in the avenue. She practically ran up the path, clearly, she must have put the radio on. ‘Don’t you ever do that to me again. I almost crashed. Are you out of your mind? Talk about getting above yourself, and just what role in the proceedings had you got in mind for me?’

‘Firstly, the idea came from the top; secondly, they’ve asked for you, more or less full-time until the summer.’

‘But, but... You’ve only got six of the bedrooms in commission!’

‘Correction, we’ve got state rooms as grand as anything they’ll have ever known, they just need the dust blowing off.’

‘What!’

‘And if they’re not satisfied, they can make do with the servant’s quarters above.’

‘Seriously, Tony. What’s this all about?’

‘Buffy’s revenge, I think. His chance to stick it to the rest of the world.’

‘How?’

‘He wants us, as we are. The club. Right down to the regular menu.’

‘Well let’s pray they’re not here on a Thursday.’

‘Why?’

‘Well! I’m pleased you’ve forgotten, as chair of the Dining Committee you must have approved it once upon a time - Spotted Dick with lumpy custard.’

‘Oh yes. Happy days.’

‘So, you promised Prudence foreign statesmen, are you going to deliver an HRH too?’

‘Well, unknown as yet. But we do have a banqueting room familiar to their ancestors.’

‘Well, you’ve changed this room.’

‘Yes, back to what it must once have been. Ground floor front, therefore a literal reception room, somewhere to meet visitors and decide whether they should be allowed any further on to the premises.’

‘Do take a seat madam, I’ll see if the young master is at home.’

‘Or, do take a seat, whilst I prepare the treatment room, there’s mineral water on the sideboard.’

‘What?’

‘Step this way.’

‘How come it’s so light? And where’s the dining table, you said it was a genuine heirloom.’

‘The table is in three bits in one of the top floor bedrooms, only took the lads five minutes, it was designed to be taken apart. The ceiling and walls above the picture rail have new white paint and LED ceiling lights, see? And, this back wall is now white, whilst the remaining posh wallpaper has had some sort of damp spongy treatment, that brings back the original slightly reflective effect.’

‘The floor?’

‘That I admit is a bit of an indulgence, has to be sealed again apparently, when the wood has dried out a bit more. Oh, and the patio doors have been rehung and tinkered with, easy to leave ajar now, for fresh air and birdsong on spring mornings. So, moving on, only minor changes to the kitchen and pantry.’

‘Fresh paint and?’

‘Just a thorough clean-up really, food was quite a priority with the Aunt.’

‘What’s happened to the backdoor?’

‘Oh yes, I almost forgot, it has in fact been replaced. So, no more bolts but a dead lock as well as a sprung lock - now an alternative way to ingress and egress the property.’

‘Honestly this isn’t fair, you’ve been doing this to make me want to be here, rather than creating your own space. Now, it’s like I owe you!’

‘You haven’t seen upstairs yet.’

‘Oh cripes.’

‘So, master bedroom one, street facing, becomes proper family withdrawing room come library - henceforth to be known as the Media Room.’

‘Now that is cool.’

‘Well yes, and apart from Barmy’s garden shed I can’t think of one to beat it. Indeed, my wraparound screen is bigger that his.’

‘Looks like you’re still at the same place with your father’s documents as you were when they were downstairs?’

‘Yes, and likely to stay that way if I have to be hands-on with the Summit. Anyway, moving along, real master bedroom, garden facing with new improved bath and shower arrangements.’

I left a long pause, until she broke the silence; ‘All plumbed in, but no tiles yet.’

‘Correct.’

‘Well, I’m not signing-up for cleaning. Either you do it yourself or get someone in. And the car?’

‘Bernard is in negotiation to get Uncle Thomas’s mews garage back.’

‘Mews?’

‘At the confluence of the two back lanes that serve the avenue.’

‘Now you’ve lost me.’

‘An ancient, pre-historic version of a residents association, formed out of the freeholders, to look after the mews, the back lanes, the avenue, and the common lawn behind the trees.’

‘It’s all private? You wouldn’t know it.’

‘Long may it stay that way.’

‘You said you would be using last week to settle the reconstituting of the Trust!’

‘Well, that’s slightly delayed on account of it can only happen once Bernard and Brinkley have put their own semi-retirement plans into operation.’

‘You’re in charge, aren’t you?

‘Of course, but they have to do it all of their own free will and fly-off to the sun in the firm belief it was all their own idea.’

‘You know you said I’d have to find out about those two on my own. Well, I’ve discovered nothing, so perhaps you’d better come clean.’

‘All I know, all anyone knows - and this’s the point - is, you know that Art Deco block of flats between here and town? That’s where they live.’

‘Together?’

‘No. They each have a second floor flat; they live across the corridor from each other.’

‘Oh. Right.’

‘And, about twenty-five years ago, when this arrangement began, they each went halves on a timeshare in Spain. The only gossip ever to emerge, is that they nearly always take annual leave at the same time.’

‘They don’t look the part, do they?’

‘I’m not sure that’s an appropriate question these days?’

‘You know what I mean! Brinkley looks positively, Dickensian.’

‘Indeed, the miserly clerk, sat on a high stool at one of those high desks. Whilst Bernard looks like the country squire, fresh from tearing a strip off the stable lad.’

‘So, what happens, they keep their financial stake in the whole set-up I take it?’

‘Absolutely. They just hand over most of their clients to the staff they’ve been bringing along the last couple of years, with the exception of the Trust, the Park and the club accounts. If you go to the websites of Brinkley Associates, and Merriweather and Stollard, you will find them describing themselves as Consulting Accountant and Consulting Solicitor respectively.’