138: A walk in the park

‘He’s fast isn’t he, how come he’s so fast?’ I said, looking down to the end of the garden.

‘He’s young.’ Declared Charlie.

‘He’s always fast.’ Added Melisa, with a chuckle.

‘And he barely takes five minutes for tea!’

‘He’s always quick to recover too.’

‘Well answer me this Mel, given his height, how come he doesn’t have a stoop?’

‘He's had his spade customised, it's got a longer shaft. Always uses his own tools. Has quite a bag full in the van.’

‘Taken to chauffeuring him around I take it?’

‘We practically live in the van.’

‘Really.’

‘When I cleared out the back of all Mr Mackintosh’s stuff, Jack showed me his van, he has all this great flooring, he gave me a length off his roll.’

‘Does Jack know your father?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘You should introduce them some time.’

‘Why?’

‘Has Jack explained all the computer electronics in his van?’

‘No, just says it’s all for driver assist, self-drive.’

‘Ah! Actually, it’s more about counter measures shall we say, that’s why I think your dad might be interested.’

‘But he’s official, whilst Jack is...’

‘Your father is an independent consultant, brought in because the state apparatus has trouble keeping up with the private economy, he lets them in on what he thinks they ought to know. Comprende?’

‘I think I might be beginning to!’

‘Why are we doing this?’

‘A walk in the woods, when have you ever been known to turn down a walk in the woods?’

‘Another, “inspecting the works” I meant.’

‘Because Brinkley is insisting on attending this afternoon’s board meeting to hammer home the need for tight accounting. And he will also be nervous about the degree to which the Trust has been lending to the Park company over the water works. I need to be well armoured against attack, not to mention uncle.’

We walked down from the back of the house, on top of the now refilled new trench. ‘It leaves quite a scar on the landscape.’ Observed Charlie, walking in front.

‘Yes, we need to stop people using it as a path, especially if we try and plant new stuff, might be a project for young Tim in due course.’

‘Is it all on a new alignment?’ She said, coming to a halt.

‘More or less.’ I replied, walking on. ‘Once the contractors had realised there was an easier gradient to be had, they were only too pleased not to dig out the old piping. It’s probably modern diggers that make it worth while going deeper to get a better lie, meaning the pump doesn’t have to work so hard.’

‘Hey!’ She said, her voice now a little distant. ‘If you look back, you can see intermittent patches of better tree growth, over there and there.’ I wandered back a step or two. ‘I’m sure that’s where there have been longstanding leaks.’

‘More money saved then.’

In time we reached the restored pumping station, the only point in the parkland where you can hear the flowing river before you see it.

‘Very smart. What’s that?’ She said, looking at a new grey panel in the wall.

‘One of Eltham’s battery storage things, fed from the solar panel on the roof, supplements the mains, covers power cuts as well.’ I fiddled with the keys borrowed from the office. ‘We’ve kept the old back-up generator; it’s just been reconditioned. It’s the electric pump that’s all new, latest computer controlled what’s it! Oh look, it looks just like it does in the catalogue.’

‘What’s the yellow, hazard, electric, nuclear sign thing on the door for?’

‘Oh, just there to keep the curious away. Well, everything looks to be in order. Seen enough?’

‘Expensive.’ She said as I locked-up.

‘It’ll last well beyond my lifetime.’

‘Depends how fast you intend to age. I need to keep you on your toes. Let’s go back another way, where it’s more secluded.’

Uncle and I took our pre-meet at the veranda bar as usual. He opened with; ‘You look flushed.’

‘Tight schedule today, scratch lunch.’

How’s Charlotte?’

‘Fine. She’s here about, somewhere.’

‘Never stops, eh?’

‘She has projects of her own.’

‘Rather putting you in the shade these days.’

‘I’m a contented consort. How’s Julia?’

‘Your aunt is worried about me, damn near stopped me driving here today.’ Then, after a pause; ‘I’m not so old, all things considered, a man’s as young as he feels.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘You know perfectly well. Look, I concede Mrs Gregson is happier now their cottage is done and hence Gregson goes about his business more contentedly, which makes all our lives easier. And, the brickworks, well I’d probably never have got around to it. You force the pace, fine. I know I’m slow, but I’m not incapable.’

‘Pace yourself.’

‘Quite. But why this separate company though, A & C Restorations?’

‘Well, it’s just Charlie and I, quite separate from the Trust. Therefore, in the fullness of time, A & C can merge with Checkley, or Checkley take it over. Maybe one just subsidises the other, but the point is, neither will be subsumed by the Trust. Over time my influence over them is bound to wane.’

‘I see, and ultimately the Park might be more secure too.’

‘Indeed.’

‘Anyway, you’ll be with us within the week, we can talk more then. The two of you are going to be busy, there’s much to be done.’

‘Ah! Small fly in the ointment. Charlie’s parents will be roaming the county looking for a retirement property, we may have to take some time out.’

‘Damn!’

As we left the bar via the lounge, Ada Armitage could be seen deep in conversation with none other than Brinkley. I froze on the spot. Then I remembered the two had met over the matter of the railway station which never had trains. Larry looked distinctly sheepish as we approached their table.

‘Good afternoon young man.’ Ada said with a glint in her eye; ‘I’ve just been asking Lawrence, I may call you that, may I?’

‘Of course, dear lady.’

‘I was just asking Lawrence what he thought my shares might be worth, I shan’t break a confidence by telling you his reply, but I wonder what you think they’re worth Anthony?’

I was acutely aware of uncle’s presence beside me and Brinkley, glaring; ‘Whatever a worthy recipient is prepared to pay.’ It was the best I could come up with on the spur of the moment.

‘Most gallant.’ She replied.

‘We’re in the club committee room when you’re done.’

The business of the meeting seemed to take an age. Uncle took the chair as usual. I reported on the water pipe, the pumping station and the cost. I offered my view on the loan, the period of extension for repayments and a reasonable interest rate that the Park could afford, and I hoped the Trust would approve. Uncle looked pleased, Brinkley bristled. Lawrence then let off steam by outlining the discipline that the responsible staff must show in their accounting methods.

He then surprised us all saying; ‘Finally, changing the subject entirely, I’d like to take the opportunity of informing the board that the Arlington Trust has had a letter from our, other university.’ He then produced said item and began to read aloud; ‘From the “Faculty of Agriculture and Rural Sustainability, Floor Ten, Drake’s Tower, City Campus”. It’s from the “Placements and Apprenticeships Officer” of the “School of Horticulture”, which as we all know is actually located at the opposite end of the county, but they are of course looking to place students, I’m about to send out copies to all parts of the Trust, but I thought I’d just let you know...’

‘Well, I’ll be damned! The lad’s even better organised than I’d imagined. I’ll draft the reply thank you Brinkley.’

137: Father, mother and me

‘Oh my god, they’re coming to visit.’

‘That’s nice.’

‘Nice! You’ve met him.’

‘Well, it’s a situation that’s doable, at least for a short time. When are they are coming?’

‘Not for a while.’ Charlie replied, her head in her mother’s handwritten missive. ‘And father’s finally retiring. I don’t believe it. Oh no! He wants to “take the opportunity to look at properties in the west country.” Well, they can stay off the Riviera for a start. And she wants me to recommend a hotel. I suppose the Grand is, well, what they’d consider grand.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, you are slow sometimes, send them where you’ve got a man on the inside, the Manor House.’

‘Right, I wasn’t thinking.’

‘Junior Jack is just the fellow to keep your father in order, looming in the lounge. And another thing, you’ve got friends, if your parents are moving it’s a chance to find out all the legal ins and outs of your family, steer them towards Barney Benson, better still go in on the ground floor and hit them with Thayer, it’s what that building is for.’

‘County Estates is outside father’s price range I should think.’

‘But Thayer will offer to find them their ideal property, if he knows what’s good for him.’

For once it was me inviting Daphne for lunch at the club. After the usual pleasantries I tried to get swiftly to business. ‘We need to have a serious talk Daph, ghosts from the past are, unsettling me, shall we say.’

‘Gosh! Not more accusations about me being an agent for my father I hope?’

‘No. But let me apologise in advance, I do have to ask you about your father’s world. If you’re able to answer, please do so, if not, try to distinguish between don’t know, and not at liberty to say.’

‘Hell, this had better be important. I’ve had enough of trips down memory lane. So, what’s this all about?’

‘I don’t know, that’s the point. Who or what is, or was, Casper Wieck?’

‘A hanger-on of Daddy’s.’

‘They worked together?’

‘Sure, and used to see each other in retirement.’

‘Just, how senior was your father in the end?’

‘Deputy Chief.’

‘And Wieck?’

‘Head of Personnel.’

‘Sounds a bit euphemistic!’

‘No, but yes. I mean government communications is a big employer, the seventies, a time of expansion for them. Lots of positive vetting. But yes, sort of internal security as well. And...’

‘Yes?’

‘Look Tony, there were all sorts of formal channels for distributing the product, with Whitehall committees attached. But once in a while, there had to be informal, face to face contact with odd individuals from the other agencies. Wieck would handle that. When I was a kid, if Daddy had to be contacted out of hours, it would be Wieck who came to the cottage. That was the only time, you know, hand on the shoulder afterwards; “You know Daddy’s work is a bit secret, no need to mention the visit”. My point is, Wieck was the only one who really knew anything about the world of the spooks.’

‘And what was Murchison’s role?’

‘Ken? He was entertainment. Same generation, only stayed a few years, the butt of jokes often, I mean he was the last of his kind, had to oversee, climbing telegraph poles, messing with mechanical exchanges, you know, your actual adding extra kit to wires, international cables, museum stuff. And radio of course. Amuses Barmy to this day. What’s this really all about Tony?’

‘He was genuinely attached to my aunt Elisabeth, not just the gardener, left an old Will, leaving her everything. Why was Wieck at the funeral?’

‘Out of respect?’

‘Tidying up loose ends more like, only he didn’t succeed. How’s Barmy?’

‘Fine, I think. In Germany, with a solicitor, one of your lot. Wills again, one of his many relatives dropped of the twig. Barmy thinks he can snatch another chuck of the family fortune for the foundation. Mel keeps saying all that nonsense will stop with her, rather admire her for it.’

Over the years Charlie and I have tried to limit our visits to Head Office, in our great cathedral city. Killing as many birds with one stone as possible. And we’ve got into the habit of entering by the ground floor and working our way up. The first surprise of the day was to find Barmy lounging with Thayer at the back of the shop; ‘I was told you were in Germany.’

‘That was yesterday. We were talking about you. Ways of turning cash into bricks and mortar.’

‘I was saying, how profit, in rural enterprises rarely tells you about the real value of assets like land and buildings.’ Thayer explained.

‘Quite right.’

‘Brinkley sent word he wants to see you two. And since you’ll be going that way you might care to deliver these papers regarding your old apartment. Tell him he has forty-eight hours to fix it, whatever the fix is, before those details go in the window, at market price!’

‘Number forty-two is sold?’

‘Finally.’

‘Right. Now, we never arrive without a purpose, over to you Charlie?’

‘My father is retiring, looking for a property in the west country, we were wondering if you could, I can’t believe I’m talking like this, help manage the situation, facilitate an outcome, conducive to all parties...’

‘Being as how, you’ve just told the whole world you’ve never got on!’ Thayer interrupted.

‘Did I? Oh god.’

‘Fear not, point them in my direction, I’ll endeavour to keep all parties satisfied. Now, you don’t want to keep Lawrence waiting, besides Mr Gruber here, by all accounts is an even more important client than you Tony.’

‘That man is getting ideas above his station.’ I said as we ascended the back stairway to the first floor.

Upon entered, Brinkley’s voice boomed; ‘In here you two.’ I was beginning to regret the comprehensiveness of security in the building, but then I only had myself and Fin Heptonstall to blame!

Just as Brinkley opened his mouth to speak, I shoved Thayer’s papers in his face, then took up my usual position of admiring the second-best view.

‘Yes. Yes.’ He mumbled whilst perusing the papers; ‘Mackintosh has been much on my mind of late. In more ways than one. Are we committed to this?’

‘Gentleman’s agreement, handshake and everything, an offer to treat, and an acceptance.’

‘Leave the law to Bernard, Tony. You have noted the difference in these figures?’

‘Yes.’

‘Thayer knows the market.’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I...’

‘Cat has already paid in kind, future prospects with Jack’s garage look very rosy.’

‘Jack! This office has no truck with him.’

‘Then I’m your cut-out, I keep you squeaky clean!’

‘Yes, well that’s as maybe. And now, Mackintosh wants to institute a park run, of all things, Charlotte?’

‘It’s an idea, it would have to be a cross-country event, not enough paths and they’d have to stay off the golf course, he suggested a paper chase, keep it traditional.’

‘Insurance will never wear it. Plus, with your MP’s visit, this leaves the whole park organisation severely exposed.’

‘Larry, you’re not making any sense.’

‘It doesn’t matter how well you’ve sweet-talked her; MPs have to account for their every action these days, two forms, it’s either expenses or the register of freebies!’

‘So?’

‘Public documents, it won’t be her, just some, beady-eyed left-wing journalist, one article, one call to the tax office, that’s all it takes. We need to formalise certain internal arrangements at the Park.’

‘How?’

‘Three departments, say Spa and Sports, Conference Facilities, House and Hospitality. Clear accounting, if Macintosh is organising events for Spa and Sports, that’s consulting or volunteering, not the club which is just renting from House and Hospitality. Wooley rents from Conference Facilities, however much he wines and dines guests in the club, follow?’ He said looking in Charlie’s direction.

‘The whole point of the Park is it’s informality.’ She replied.

‘It’s appearances and reality again Charlie, paperwork makes stuff, official.’ I interceded.

‘Oh, right.’

‘Agreed?’ Asserted Brinkley.

‘Agreed. Where’s Bernard?’

‘Incommunicado.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘At home, in Spain, the doctors have ordered complete rest. No online, no nothing.’

‘What’s happened?’ As I was asking, Charlie spied something behind Brinkley’s chair and rose to investigate.

‘Fell over in the outage, hairline fracture, whole foot and ankle strapped up, stick and everything...’

‘In the outhouse?’

‘In the power cut!’

‘Another one!’ Charlie exclaimed, holding up a new bottle; ‘Irish whisky not enough? Bespoke again I suppose.’ Turning it to the light she continued; ‘Seriously? “Brinkley’s Rum”, oh come on!’

‘Care for a glass?’

‘No thanks.’

‘Slip-up stairs and you’ll find Bernard now offers, raspberry and lemon liqueurs.’

‘Charlie, we’re leaving. Clearly, we’re paying these people too much!’

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.’

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.’

61: Gardening leave

When it was all over, the Press were clearly divided along political lines. Some asserted the conference was a great embarrassment to all right-thinking internationalists and a personal humiliation for the Prime Minster; others declared Britain was back, taking up its historic role as a leader on the global stage. Charlie was now so trusting of her fellow club members; she didn’t bat an eyelid at The Beacon’s treatment of her photos from the shenanigans in the Games Room.

One of the advantages of our side-by-side desks in the Media Room, was the uninterrupted view they afforded of the entrance to the avenue, the spot favoured by our Postie for leaving the van. Early one morning in late June, Charlie suddenly jumped up; ‘There’s at least a couple of letters, I hope there’s nothing distracting, I promised to get Kenneth’s gardening supplies this morning.’

Upon her return she thrust an invoice, come receipt, come cheque, into my hand. ‘What’s all this about?’ She enquired.

‘It’s a cheque from The Beacon, for services rendered. Not a bad little earner.’

‘I didn’t know photos were worth so much, I’ll pay it into the bank.’

‘Er, I’d hold fast on that one, for a week or so, if I were you.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, the short answer is your tax status just changed, the longer answer is you may just have taken a jump in your social status and career prospects.’

‘What?’

‘You, are in need of the best financial advice, and I don’t mean Brinkley!’

‘Go on.’

‘The date on this advice. That, if I’m not mistaken, is when you first had a proper sit-down chat with Wooley at the club, ages ago, and he took that snap of you in your fitness kit. This is him, or perhaps his proprietor, paying you for what eventually became the Page Three story. There may be a second cheque, perhaps twice the size, for the Games Room photos. They’ve bounced you, with a paper trail, into the official economy. How much have your tips come to in the last year?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe five grand.’

‘You need to start keeping a cash book, and start paying it all into a bank, start using card payments whenever possible.’

‘But I’m not going to be liable for much more tax, am I?’

‘Who knows, you may slip into a new code or category! Brinkley can do your books, but all this needs to be done, and seen to be done, properly. We need to end your employee status and make you self-employed. It’s time for you to meet the Banker, and this cheque is going to be your letter of introduction.’

‘Oh yes, and who might that be?’

‘Archie Layton, not sure of his job title this week, but he is number two at the National Bank in our great cathedral city, in other words, the new bank, three doors down from the old bank, he handles all business emanating from the latter.’

‘You want me to change banks?’

‘No, Archie will have you, wanting to change banks! He’s about your age. He thinks what the Trust does is just, oh so quaint and terribly amusing, he’ll have you with a portable chip and pin machine in your bag before you can say, “Step this way, sir”.’

In the days that followed, it became my habit, after spending an hour or so on father’s papers, to wander through to the bedroom window and stare down into the garden. One day I found myself squatting - it wasn’t the precise view, but close. The colour, the layout, and with the window slightly ajar, the smell, the distant sound of voices. I decided I’d better go and find myself some human interaction. Coming out of the pantry door, I walked in on the conversation.

‘We have a duty to our ladies and gentlemen Sparkwell... Good afternoon, sir.’

‘Oh, blimey! Not you as well Kenneth? I don’t think I could cope with being dragged down another rabbit hole. Cease and desist. Now, you two, bring me up to speed with the garden. I promised you both there would be action on renovating the shed and the possibility of a couple of cold frames. Where would they go in relation to your revived composing?’

I was given another tour. ‘Have you found the right kind of carpenter then?’ Asked Charlie.

‘Not exactly, I’m thinking of the guy, and his mate, who came to the rescue of the walled garden at Checkley Manor about ten years ago, if they’re still around. I shall have words with Gregson.’

‘Rather you than me, he sees you as the heir apparent, I’m just the hired hand.’

‘Well, you can’t have it both ways at the same time, you can switch roles back and forth with me but it doesn’t work with others unless you, can make them play along. And as I say, I can only take so much of it anyway.’

‘I’ll make the tea.’

‘You’ve upset her now.’

‘Good lord, have I?’

‘You’ve just told her she can’t have it all! She may be all for living in the moment, but she has a romantic view of the future. She’s had it tough in the past, so much so obvious, but you’ve made her feel deserving of it all. She needs to add the art of being the game and gallant loser to her repertoire. They don’t get that, those reformers at Beaconsfield.’

‘I’ll remember that.’

‘She doesn’t play sport; she rescues the injured. And does she know that you are content to be a big fish in small pool?’

‘I know you’d never have got away with this kind of park bench philosophy with my aunt, she’d have shut you down within half a sentence.’

‘Indeed, she was a master at evading the issue, or perhaps just asserting her own priorities. Don’t get me wrong, I’m having more fun than I’ve had in a long time.’

‘We’d better set up the table and chairs.’

‘We can probably leave them out now, I’m told we’re in for a long and glorious summer.’

‘Now whose being romantic about the future!’

When Charlie returned from her first encounter with the Banker, I was anxious to know how it went; ‘Well?’

‘He’s back-dated me to the beginning of the financial year, apparently I’ve so far done freelance work for The Beacon, twice, had a short-term contract with the government, will collect expenses as a Trustee, been continuing with a now ‘annually negotiated’ contract as a consulting Carer for the charitable arm of the Trust, collected fees from clients as a physical therapist - and he wonders, why the club don’t keep me on a retainer for being their chief trouble-shooter!’

‘And you signed-up for whatever accounts best facilitate such activities?’

‘Archie said never use a bank teller again, always see him when paying in, so I get a free update on what’s happening, whilst he can demonstrate to the bank it’s him who’s bringing the business in. That way, he gets to judge if charges are ever appropriate.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Nice to be treated like, somebody.’

‘Quite right.’

‘He gave me a bit of inside gossip too.’

‘Oh yes.’

‘You are aware I take it, sir, of the ongoing saga of posh London estate agents, County Estates.’

‘Well, yes, one of the long-time Brinkley, Bernard conspiracies.’

‘Well, it’s happened, the money has anyway, the old bank will shortly have estate agents on the ground floor, accountants on the first and solicitors on the second. What happens in the attic?’

‘Just a couple of storage rooms. The next time you push a wad of folding money across Archie’s desk you might say, Tony sends his regards and does anyone know what is in the old bank’s safe in the basement? It’s one of the great mysteries, one that alluded father too, apparently.’