Showing posts with label Margot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Margot. Show all posts

Thursday, 21 April 2022

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.’

Thursday, 25 March 2021

52: The final problem

‘I’ve just had a shock, two shocks in fact.’ So said Charlie as she came through the front door.

‘Sit down, I’ll make some of your special tea.’

A few minutes later. ‘There you go. In your own time, as they say.’

‘You know the other week I went to the surgery for the introductory interrogation after registering with your Doc.’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I got on quite well with the nurse, so I kind of just let her get on with it, let her poke about, check-out whatever, send for testing etc.’

‘Yes.’

‘Today, they sent me to the clinic for the results. They wanted to double check a few things, I ended up talking it all through with the specialist for about half an hour! They think I should be using some form of artificial contraception because I could get up the duff at any time.’

‘And this after you’d explained your entire history, again. So, what did you say?’

‘I just said I’d do things my own way thank you very much. Then she suggested counselling on account of either I was unconsciously avoiding doing anything that would up my chances of getting knocked-up or, simply using unreliable methods of contraception and being irresponsible. What do you think?’

‘I think modern medicine has very little in common with hard evolutionary genetic science, nor is it the wisdom of our ancient ancestors! Do as you like, I’ll go with any outcome. Although, as I’ve implied before, if you were inclined towards motherhood, I’d be quite prepared to facilitate the grandest and most traditional of weddings, and use the resources of the Trust to secure the health and happiness of our offspring.’

‘How grand?’

‘Now you’re asking the right questions. The cathedral with the bishop presiding. Didn’t you say a while ago your father had some such idea in mind?’

‘Not even he could pull that one off, he’s not that influential. His Lawyers as Christians thing is pretty small fry.’

‘Then he’d have to ask for some local help.’

‘You?’

‘No, but perhaps one of our local country bumpkin solicitors and his sidekick.’

‘Really, is this something to do with the Trust?’

‘No, no. But Bernard and Brinkley do provide certain services to the diocese in matters temporal. Your father might find them uniquely placed to affect the desired outcome. Cat Macintosh may despair at the woke-ness of the Church of England in spiritual matters, but they remain quite traditional when it comes to certain aspects of their governance, their property, and land.’

‘You’ve thought this through!’

‘I confess, certain possible scenarios have flittered across my mind in idle moments since I was able to link your father to Bernard.’

‘Don’t tell me, father prosecuted him and crushed him in court.’

‘Apparently. But, all rather neat don’t you think? You take your father for a shed load of cash; he thinks his problem is finally off his hands.’

‘But seriously, is there anything about me that would suggest I’d make a good mother?’

‘Not right now perhaps, but if you did become, with child, there’s no knowing how your brain and body would react, almost instantly. But anyway, you said you’d had two shocks.’

‘Oh, yes. Coming back in just now from the other direction I walked along the front of the terrace. Suddenly I thought I was going to have a heart attack. One of the front doors banged open, on to the street, like the wrong way. You said they were all sealed up to make larger apartments.’

‘Oh lord. Yes. Sorry, I should have explained.’

‘And out flies Jim all masked-up with a black sack over his shoulder big enough to hold a body. God!’

‘Yeah, there’s two of them, one towards each end. Additional fire exits from way back. But these days they’re nowhere near the official mustering point, so, not advised for use.’


The following day I decided to take advantage of the partial relaxation in covid-19 rules, to get a haircut. ‘I’m only off to the barbers for a good trim, shouldn’t be more than an hour.’

‘Hang-on, I’ll come with you, I need the exercise.’ As soon as we were outside, she asked; ‘Where do you usually go?’

‘Only to Alex’s around the corner.’

‘I couldn’t recommend them, sir.’

‘What do you mean, you “couldn’t recommend them”, I’ve been going there for years!’

‘For a gentleman of your description.’

‘And just what do you mean by a “gentleman of my description”?’

‘Well, your hair is older than your body now. With most people it’s the other way around. If you care to follow me, just a short way up the town, I’m sure I could get you a quick consultation with Margot, the hair magician.’

‘You want it really short. Un-comb-able, you mean.’

‘Oh no, well not necessarily, just whatever she recommends.’

‘You want me to place myself in the hands of an unknown crimper?’

‘Only unknown to you!’

‘This feels like a major concession to me, another stage in your rise to total domination over my dominion.’

‘You, want something in return.’

‘There you go, thinking several moves ahead now!’

‘Well?’

‘I want you to sit down with pen and paper and write me a mission statement. Just a hundred and fifty or two hundred words, a first draft to give the direction of travel.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I want you to imagine you are the chief executive of a charitable trust, with a mass of property assets, including nearly a thousand acres of productive land and tens of millions in cash and investments. I want to know what you personally, given the world you live in, think the priorities of such an organisation should be.’

‘And you’ll submit to having your head restyled?’

‘Of course.’

‘Done.’

‘Fact is, pretty soon I’m going to have to concede, to the Trust having a proper Board of Trustees, with a variety of expertises. It’s just too big for one person to effectively control, soon it will attract more attention from various government agencies, plus if I am to be the end of the line, well, let’s see how much influence we can have over a future we won’t be a part of!’

‘We’re here.’

‘Once more into breach, summon up the blood, etcetera!’


‘Can one get attention in this sparkling emporium without an appointment?’ No sooner had I mumbled these words to my companion, than a majestic lady of middle age approached.

‘Oh, my goodness! Charlotte. It’s been a while, is this your new chap?’

‘Margot, Tony. Tony, Margot.’

‘I’ve given over control of my hair to Charlie here, she says I must let you do whatever you will with it.’

‘I say, you are serious about him darling! Who’d have thought. Take a seat for a while, I’ll finish up with my client and have a think about your problem.’

We were left to admire the surroundings.

‘So, you want to start thinking about the future of the Trust now, so the right people get to be Trustees?’

‘Sure, and who is allowed to just advise and who has to share legal responsibility for its conduct.’

‘But if I just dropped a couple of kids for you, we could all go on enjoying a grand country living?’

‘The two aren’t mutually exclusive.’

‘Charlotte! Let’s have your lad over here.’ Once seated, with the two of them peering at the back of my head and Margot using her comb to explore, like the school nit nurse, I realised I was no longer in control - of anything in my life. ‘As you know from your massage darling, nothing really grows symmetrically, see, thinning more on that side.’ I tuned-out, focused solely on the breath, letting go of the good thoughts as well as the unwelcome. ‘I can do this all in five minutes with just the scissors, then you must use the home shaving kit to remove as much of his body hair as you require.’


(End of Book One - this blog will return, sometime, maybe...)