143: Road to nowhere

The new year may start slowly for some, but for us it had a vigour, not to say a vim. So far, my role within the new, old railway, had been one of facilitation and enlightened self-interest. Now, with more disruptive works coming, I needed to assert myself more. Any public discontent would not be ameliorated by consultation, only by practical evidence of improvement. Setting the right tone, the psychology of our restoration if you like, was paramount. As a non-executive director, I normally attended all the meetings that now took place in our boardroom at the Abbey station. But then came the day, when all the other board members foregathered without me, in expectation of watching a televised news conference, which they knew would happen, but which the rest of the county and the nation, most assuredly did not!

Charlie was driving me to this media event, which was being held at the headquarters of the national park, located in that modest town which serves as the main southern gateway to the Moor. On the way we were held up by traffic lights, due to restoration work underway at the town’s old railway station, the principal stop on the line to Morestead. Part of the works involved actually narrowing the road, Walpole having achieved a major coup by establishing that fifty years ago the local authority had acted illegally by pinching a three-foot-wide strip of land from the old British Railways.

Just as we were creeping forward, thinking these lights will change again any second, our dashboard screen sprung alight; ‘Blimey!’ Exclaimed Charlie.

‘Here we go, here we go, here we go...’

‘Shut-up!’ She said as we just escaped on amber. Then on the screen I could see a police patrol car appear from behind a hedge and take up position, up our arse, so to speak; ‘What does he want?’

‘Well,’ I speculated; ‘They’re not flashing at us, perhaps they’re here to escort us.’

‘There will be loads of VIPs, you’ll probably be the dodgiest one there.’

‘Quite. And we should be mindful of the fact this may be Sonia’s last chance, to have a go.’

‘Are you worried?’

‘Barmy and I have had contingency arrangements in place ever since he started doing government work.’

After being waved into our allotted parking, there was an almost immediate tap on the driver’s window from a suit, and as the window descended, so did a smiling face; ‘Charlie! Great to see you.’

‘Oh no, not you again.’ I groaned out loud.

‘Back by popular demand, with royal protection, sir. I’ll come round and escort you in.’

‘It’s because he’s an ex-marine.’ She said in our last moments of privacy.

‘I didn’t know that.’

On our way into the park authority building, security said; ‘The national park are hosting today, at your suggestion I’m told, so you’re alongside HRH as the major landowners, but slightly off to one side. The minister is the only speechmaker and the press haven’t been briefed, so questions will be limited. Speak later.’

‘I understand you are old friends, Anthony.’

‘In a manner of speaking, your royal highness.’

‘He’s back at the wife’s insistence, must be glad to be shot of the politicians. Be my feed when you think I need it. How’s Charlotte?’

‘Fine, in amongst the press, using the Trust’s mobile to take background pictures for The Countrywoman, but under embargo until after Kensington Palace, of course.’

‘Thank you. You’d be surprised how many Duchy farm kitchens have a copy of that mag open on the table.’

‘May I pass that on, sir?’

‘You may.’

The nation’s transport supremo could be seen bustling through the melee towards us; ‘Your royal highness. Arlington, I want you to know I’m only going along with this because Brenda has me by the balls!’

‘Brenda Radnor, sir. Our local MP, and the minister’s new PPS I understand.’

‘How I’m supposed to square this circle I don’t know.’

‘I find just sticking to the speech as written usually works.’ Said HRH with a glint in the eye.

‘Your Royal Highness, ladies and gentlemen. It is highly appropriate that today’s announcement of government investment should be made from the headquarters of the national park, located as we are in the town which will see the most immediate benefit. And alongside the Duke of Cornwall, Anthony Arlington, together representing the major landowners involved and whose cooperation has made today possible. For I can tell you now, this county will see, the completion of its motorway all the way to its western border. Detailed printed plans will be available after I have spoken. Over the next twenty-five years, with great care and sensitivity to the current and future needs of this rural environment, plus the need to correct the mistakes made when the current dual carriageway was constructed, the economy and environment will be enhanced. Within weeks work will begin on this short section, before moving east towards your great cathedral city. Let no one be in any doubt, the widening will be to the south side of the existing road. The eastern end will be elevated to allow a bridge over the new, old railway. With proper earth embankments, with tree cover, and the bridge constructed from the same stone as the original railway, from a disused quarry on Duchy land, allowing it in turn to be flooded and a wetland conservation area created. The current gateway junction to the Moor, will be reversed with the carriageway on top, the access roads underneath. With the growth of electric vehicles, noise and air pollution will take care of itself. The rainfall from the road itself will be collected to create new wetland conservation areas. The modifications to the road’s route will allow the size of the national park to increase, with all the protections for the environment and communities that affords. Access to the temporary roads required for construction will be given to the railway too, allowing ballast, sleepers and short rails to be delivered, the trialling of dual construction, cost-saving techniques for the more challenging work coming later to the east. Within weeks of the bridge’s completion, train services will return to this town...’

Once it was all over, with HRH gone skyward, the minster off with a police escort to the next stopping train with a first-class carriage, the national press in the car park searching for a decent signal, I wandered back towards our vehicle. I was met by the sight of Charlie leaning against the car, arms folded and looking decidedly miffed. I assumed, because she was being blocked by a police patrol car beside which stood none other than the Chief Constable herself.

‘Home Sparkwell and don't spare the horses.’

‘Not so fast Anthony.’

‘Sonia! Couldn’t resist a last fond farewell? Congratulations on your retirement, today your last public appearance?’

‘Next week, actually. But you, are going to be seeing a lot more of me in the future.’

‘Excellent! Your place or mine?’

‘I could impound this vehicle.’

‘Really?’

‘Using an unlicensed communications network to impede the work of law enforcement.’

‘Oh, come now, the Moor is covered in dead zones, and the park authority’s car park is notorious, something to do with overhanging tree cover in a hollow, so I’m told. You’ll find the local press tend to slip down the road to the pub car park. But your lads could have told you that.’

‘Charlotte told me she uploaded twenty high-definition pictures in seconds to her magazine via the car and your so-called “media room”. Explain!’

‘You left out, “via one of Eltham Makepeace’s satellites.”

‘Ha! Condemned out of your own mouth.’

‘Everything is legal, until the Crown makes it otherwise.’ Then I took out my phone.

‘What are you doing?’ She said as flashing dots lit our car’s interior in the winter gloom.

‘I just pressed my panic button. I confess that having a satellite channel does cause a little disruptive noise to terrestrial users that get too close, yet you noticed HRH got away without a hitch. You remember the double royal visit, oh no you weren’t there. Anyway, proof of concept, state security working alongside our drones and the Don’s moving cameras both operating on Eltham’s satellite internet. There need be no law when an unwritten, informal hands-off, unspoken agreement works perfectly well. We’re not in Europe anymore, their system is too old, too slow, not good with fast moving objects in close proximity. And no need to worry over Charlie’s photos, they’re embargoed until the palace have posted.’

Then Sonia’s work device pinged; ‘Sir? Yes, sir. No! I mean yes, at once. Thank you, sir.’ She looked at me with that film noir, curled lip. ‘Get him out of my sight Charlotte.’

‘I can’t until you move your vehicle, ma’am.’

‘Very well.’ Then another ping. ‘That’s my own mobile now. How’s that possible? “Eltham Makepeace is following you.” Oh, God. “Eltham Makepeace posted on your profile” Hell! “Congratulations on your retirement” Balloons and everything. I’ll delete it.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t do that. Whoever your retirement project is with, would be most unhappy. You’re going to be a major league media influencer within hours.’

End of season eleven

142: Chilling out

In an effort to avoid ghosts of Christmas’ past, we’d decided to stay on at Checkley until the new year and in the process hopefully earn ourselves some brownie points from the uncle. I’d had the perfect excuse to curtail involvement with the book club and Charlie was relieved of the obligation to produce an ideologically unsound Tea.

But our mutual preoccupations travelled with us and Checkley is an excellent place to ruminate. It being mid-winter I took the opportunity to be brutal in my pruning of the vines. Charlie had her own concerns in the woods, but helped me in the walled garden off and on, particularly in the collecting and tying up of the pruned branches, which if allowed to dry in the barn would burn very rapidly and hot, excellent for barbeques and getting big wood fires underway.

‘I’ve been thinking about Kenneth, when did it start, this thing with Elisabeth?’

‘A year or two after she became a widow, I think.’

‘You said he told you that she’d told him about the circumstances of your parent’s death.’

‘Correct. But alas, that doesn’t help, or appear to help. The reason everyone took the official explanation at face value is that their car, although it went over the edge, didn’t catch on fire. The only passports found by the authorities were the British ones. They showed they’d left Switzerland that day, entered from Italy a week before. It looks like their deaths had nothing to do with anything.’

‘Has adding everyone’s passports to your chart helped?’

‘No not really, not yet. It shows two things so far, one my folks were fans of motoring tours of Europe, and two they never mixed travel on different passports. They were always one thing, or the other.’

‘What next?’

‘Add in data from father’s diaries and daybooks I suppose.’

‘Maybe Ken put himself alongside your aunt because he had the passports?’

‘Capital mistake to theorise without facts, Watson!’

But in truth I was still processing the cascade of news and gossip I’d been hit with at the Christmas lunch. Prudence seemed to have given up not just on Rory but the rest of us. Was that a good or bad thing? But perhaps I shouldn’t have been so dismissive of Rory? That he’d been able to apply his mind to anything, must be a good thing. Perhaps I should do the same, write my own novel. Now what would make a good subject, the way we live now, something from the past, or both? It would need to be positive though, on when the going was good, rather than like most modern writing which seems so, well, downtrodden and doom laden. And so much wishful thinking, rather than trying to get closer to the truth of something. But what about subject? I seem to, of necessity, acquired a mountain of knowledge, albeit a bit superficial, about railways of late. But that was a turn-off for most readers unless it contained the romance of travel with steam locomotives. And even then, thrillers on trains were as well-worn as a Rory Flotterton plot.

That Walpole should have become so territorial about his new home county was rather nice in a way. And fully committed to the railway, though it still wasn’t clear whether Helene welcomed him getting out from under her feet, or not. Was I wrong to be pragmatic with the elder Sparkwell, Walpole was outraged by the man on Charlie’s behalf, should I be the same? Well, it’s action that counts and it would be beyond arrogant to claim an understanding of her experience.

Junior Jack was clearly getting above himself, but that was fine, he’d already showed signs of new learning over the past few years. Charlie was right to seize the opportunity to help him out. The question now, was would the atmosphere of the club and maybe the history of the house, lead him to undo the modernisation of his hotel in order to match what was coming with the railway? At least he had some old photos on the walls of reception I’d noticed, upon which to contemplate.

The real Jack had already embraced respectability; it was just a question of no backsliding. Wainwright? I must find out if she planned to stick around the area, and do what? As for the cabal, the young Turks...

‘Ta-dah! Hey there you two.’

‘Who the devil?’ I mumbled as I looking up from my reverie. There, striking a pose in the entrance to the walled garden, stood Melisa. ‘Where did you spring from.’ I said more audibly.

‘We’re on a Christmas tour, of Tim’s relatives. There are bloody hundreds of them! This is day four, I think.’

‘Well, well, well.’ I replied.

‘How long are you stopping?’ Asked Charlie.

‘Arrived in time for lunch, staying overnight, then off to God knows where tomorrow. Still, Tim says these Gregsons are the really important ones. Can't think why, they’re hardly his closest relatives.’

‘How was lunch?’ I asked.

‘Bit heavy for me, Tim wolfed it down though, all the time hanging on Mr Gregson's words. I was surprised, he was telling him, basically, he should be grateful to you for all you’re doing for him and do whatever you tell him.’

‘Ah, yes that would sort of make sense.’

‘Then Tim asked him if there was any chance, he could take time off today to show him the whole estate and would his lordship and you mind? Then this Gregson said; “Just you leave his lordship to me boy”, and “I’m sure young Missy here could head-off Mr Anthony at the pass”. Then he told me where you’d be, and here I am.’

‘So Mel, you know Tim better than any of us, what does he want, career wise, what does he aspire to?’

‘Well, he doesn’t think that far ahead really; he’s fixed to go to the Park for his first placement, wants your garden centre to be the second, says there is some mystery about it he hasn’t discovered yet.’

‘Really.’

‘But when we entered the grounds this morning, he said how would I like to spend my summers here?’

‘And what do you think of that?’ asked Charlie.

‘Well, it’s all a bit samey, I mean, when you’ve seen one field, you’ve seen them all, haven’t you.’

‘Oh dear.’

‘Tim did the garden for you before we left, I left him for a couple of hours with a thermos.’

‘I know, I get notified of any activity on security.’

‘What, pictures?’

‘Sure, anything around the back gate, back door, front door.’

‘Right.’

‘I’ve always thought he’s a bit of a voyeur on the quite.’ Charlie butted in.

‘So says the greatest exhibitionist I’ve ever met.’ I shot back.

‘Is it true what they say at the club, about there being a sextape online of you two?’

‘I wouldn’t dignify it with the title, Sextape, more like badly edited scraps from the Park’s old static security cameras back in the day. So bad, it’s not easy to work out who is doing what to whom.’

‘The stuff we’ve accidental recorded at home is much better!’ Charlie proudly announced.

‘How could it be accidental, if the cameras are by the entrances?’

‘You must have noticed the ones in the treatment room, put there to intimidate private clients.’ I asserted.

‘Oh, right.’

‘Hardly surprising if you think about it, a professional masseuse fetishizing the materials of her trade.’

‘Ha! Says the man who always joins in with enthusiasm.’

141: Christmas curfuffle

‘She’s left me!’

‘Who?’

‘My wife of course.’

‘Prudence?’

‘Who else?!’

‘It, er, just seems so unlikely, she’s not been in touch with me.’

‘Why would she?’

‘Well... What have you done Rory?’

‘Nothing.’

‘You must have done something, or not done something.’

‘All I did was show her the first few pages of my novel.’

‘Novel! I didn’t even know you could write; I thought Prue did all that for you.’

‘It was putting pen to paper that caused her to leg it to her sister’s, now I’ve got writer’s block.’

‘What’s the book about?’

‘A political thriller of course. Murder, mayhem and sexual intrigue at the heart of Westminster. A dastardly villain, foiled by the hero and his girl assistant.’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Certain to be a best seller, what with all my inside knowledge and that. That’ll show her.’

‘What exactly did Prue disapprove of?’

‘She said, she accused me of sexing-up a tired old narrative copied from real life.’

‘Thought the villain was based on someone did she?’

‘Yes. A Machiavellian master of spin, who’ll stop at nothing to get to be Prime Minister. Behind the soft eyes, the soft soap and the touchy-feely approach lay a mind obsessed with power.’

‘I see. Of course, something not so different was done on tv about thirty-five years ago if I recall. Though then the PM was very much played as a Shakespearian villain.’

‘Yes, well I was still at school then.’

A moment later we were interrupted by Walpole; ‘Anthony, a word in your shell-like, sorry to intrude.’

‘My dear fellow, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘I have; I’ve been haunted for three days now.’

‘Good lord.’

‘Tell me I’m hallucinating, they’re not living here, are they? I saw him, and what was presumably his wife, coming out of our supermarket! Helene didn’t notice thank God, otherwise she’d have insisted we be sociable. It was then I thought I must be seeing things.’

‘Henry! You were carrying the state-of-the-art mobile device given you by the railway?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then why, oh why didn’t you immediately text Charlie? Why worry for three whole days until you bumped into me? I mean, the one person in the world likely to be most sympathetic, the one person even more sensitive to the whereabouts of her father than you!’

‘I didn’t want to worry her.’

‘Sparkwell KC and the mother-in-law by proxy, have been coming and going since the summer, he’s retired. They have finally settled on a property in a rather obscure corner of the county, with the aid of friend of the Trust, Thayer.’

‘So, you have the situation entirely under control?’

‘You think I’d, let the side down?’

At which point up wandered Junior Jack. ‘Grand palace you've got here Tony, Charlie about?’

‘Of course, probably rounding up committee members to serve lunch to the staff. Christmas tradition. Talking of which, Christmas Eve is members only. Who let you in?’

‘I am a member. Hah, that’s floored you. Can’t work out how I’d get in on merit rather than have you pulling the strings.’

‘I’m quite respectful of your merits John, taking over from your father as chair of the hotel company and the numerous other leisure interests, director of the railway; but here, here you need influence, two members at least who think you’d fit in, no longer one of them, but one of us.’

‘All right, that’s enough thinking time, who proposed me and who seconded?’

‘And names that would resonate with the current committee, well Charlie would fit the bill as one, the other...’

‘You can’t think can you, I always knew the day would come when I out-smarted you, beat you on your own ground. Think about it, you can let me know any time, no cheating mind.’ Then he walking away, leaving me in peace, I hoped, before lunch kicked-off.

‘Tony!’

‘Ah! The real Jack.’

‘What mate?’

‘As opposed to John who only has the nickname Junior Jack, sorry I’m being bombarded with new news today. How’s tricks?’

‘Electric buses by Christmas they said, ha!’

‘But the buses have arrived, some are on the road already being tested. I saw it on the news.’

‘Must be true then!’

‘The bus company depot is just down the road from you. They’ve put them all in the timetable on their premier routes, allowing cascading on other routes.’

‘And just a few boneshakers to be retained for filling-in, in the unlikely event.’

‘But somewhere along the line someone has cocked-up otherwise you wouldn’t look so gleeful.’

‘Just because a recharger has the capability to rapidly recharge, doesn’t mean it always does.’

‘Oh dear, and if they’re downstream of you, so to speak, and you have increased demand.’

‘It’s really about switching, phasing and timing, or something like that, so they tell me, rather than actual demand, but yes, they can’t recharge fast enough for the number of units they need to push through to meet the timetable. Very embarrassing. If you use the route passing the depot and have just got use to the clean, quiet and sweet smelling, then along comes a broken down...’

‘I see.’

‘...and that’s not the worst of it, you have the new battery trains in view on your journey more often than you might think, and have to pass the rich bastards coming out of our place, not to mention public service vehicles charging away.’

‘Lightens the heart.’

‘I’ve something else that’ll amuse you even more. Wainwright’s retiring.’

‘Retiring! She’s younger than I am, I still think of her as a hot babe.’

‘I’ll tell Charlie.’

‘Sparkwell is in a league of her own I’ll have you know, uncategor-risable.’

‘That’s not a word.’

‘It is, has been for thirty years. Anyway, they’ve not kicked her out, have they?’

‘Thirty-five years of service, full pension. Looking to consult, on the side.’

‘Then you should bury the hatchet, put her on a retainer.’

‘Not a chance. It wouldn’t be gamekeeper turned poacher, she’d be reporting back to the new lord of the manor within days.’

‘Met Mel’s Dad yet?’

‘Sure. Nice bloke, checking us out for his daughter’s sake, but respectful with it. I like that. I assumed he was a mate of yours.’

‘We were at school together.’

‘Course’ you were.’

‘Excuse me Jack, I have to find Charlie before the bun fight begins!’

I had to wander for a bit, but then turning into the corridor, I saw them. All three of them. Standing, but in a huddle nonetheless. Benson, Layton and Sparkwell. Archie seemed to be doing most of the talking, putting them straight about something. Charlie, nodding, listening, could she truly be trusted? Surely, she must be potentially, my greatest blind spot. I decided I had time to stand and stare. Let them notice me. When they did, she came over and said, conspiratorially; ‘It’s the drive-by solicitors.’

‘What?’

‘Out on the white-collar industrial estate, at the end of the motorway. And the others of course, financial consultants, administrative types. They’re the ones leading the pack over sports ground advertising. Only the middle classes can afford tickets these days, and new grounds are all out of town.’

‘Then why the hell are Bernard and Brinkley aping them, their strategy is meant to be niche marketing?’

‘Well, that’s Barney’s point. And Archie thinks we should stay traditional because AI will make, those on the make, redundant soon enough.’

I tried not to smile my satisfaction, since we were clearly being observed; ‘Why are they here today?’

‘Archie’s the guest speaker.’

‘Oh! Excellent, a man of discernment. So, changing the subject entirely, you’ve been asserting your influence I hear, and now it seems there are two people you’ve slipped passed the membership committee whilst no one was looking?’

‘Well, Barney was proposed by Archie, I just seconded him.’

‘And Junior Jack?’

‘I helped him with the form, then proposed him. Like you did for me.’

‘Who seconded him?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘We’re meant to be full-up!’

‘But what’s the point of influence if you don’t use it?’

‘Where the hell is Mackintosh when one needs him?’

‘He’s got his own manor to run.’

140: Swing

‘Captain’s orders, sir. You are to report to his cabin afore noon.’

‘Not aft.’

‘No, sir.’ 

‘How’s his mobility been lately?’

‘Not good, he needs a lift anywhere beyond Royal Oak, his mind seems okay though.’

‘I see, what does he want to talk about?’

‘Absolutely no idea.’

Throughout the autumn, we’d been playing musical chairs, literally. First, we cleared Ken’s flat, anything usable or valuable we stacked around the ground and first floors of the villa. Then we ascended to the second floor and contemplated the two attic rooms, still not in use and still full of the surplus possessions of the late Aunt. We both agreed about the objective, that being to provide two, all be they small, guest bedrooms, but we lacked the will to act. After a couple of days rest and recuperation however, we found the will. Inevitably, more came out than went back in. The two new single bedrooms looked very nice though!

Charlie then took a photographic inventory of what she felt might be useful to Royal Oak, their response was very gratifying, they handed the entire project to the removals division of the not-for-profit second-hand furniture and domestic appliance shop. They in turn gave us their exclusive attention for a day, loading our entire surplus onto the van, proceeded to Royal Oak and allowed them a generous amount of time to select and unload anything they fancied. They then proceeded to the shop for their selection, leaving only the detritus for the dump.

In all this great turnaround, I had at the back of my mind thoughts of my parent’s role in life and what might have spurred Ken’s interest. Charlie had naturally set aside his ‘documents of life’, and graciously allowed me temporary custody of his two passports, which I determined to use to add data to my infographic along with my own first passport and those of the aunt Elisabeth.

‘I’ve been thinking about Ken’s memorial.’ Said Charlie as she steered me towards my encounter with the good captain. ‘It has to be gardens related.’

‘That does have a certain logic.’

‘Maybe the Trust could use the funds to sponsor scholarships in horticulture.’

‘I wasn’t aware young Tim was short of a bob or two.’

‘Bob’s what?’

‘A colloquialism from another age, let me rephrase; I'm not aware Tim is short of the readies.’

‘Well, not necessarily him, but there could be several annually, if the money was properly invested.’

‘Perhaps.’ We were coming to a halt at Royal Oak. ‘Right now, there’s something a little more pressing that I need to discuss before we go inside.’

‘Well?’

‘Mel still volunteers here once in a while, right?’

‘Half a day a week usually, why?’

‘Have there been any rumours about her coming from a wealthy family?’

‘I don’t think so, and anyway she doesn’t come across that way.’

‘If they find out, don’t let Bob, or anyone else for that matter, touch her for funds for the charity.’

‘I don’t get it, I mean I know she’ll push a twenty in the collection box from time to time.’

‘I’ve been at this game for thirty-five years, if she’s approached now, it’ll backfire. It has to come from her. The point is, the Gruber Foundation is a good long-term bet for real funding, numbers that could make their future secure. But it has to be done right. Bob would muck it up. So too, any professional beggars from the charity industry who may be hanging around. Okay? Right, let’s get on with it, I imagine it’ll be hard cop, soft cop again today.’

Royal Oak looked noticeably more, well, ship-shape than on my previous visits. It was also losing its institutional look, helped along a little by some of the pieces we'd donated. Inside the old Admiral’s study, that we so flippantly refer to as “the captain’s cabin”, the transformation was altogether of a different order. Gone were the disorganised contents of the yacht; organised they now made the room look even more cabin-like. It appeared long and cramped, demanding order, with barely enough space for his narrow cot. Two, high chairs and a large plain table, strewn with architect’s drawings, illustrations and lists, rather than maps and charts. Charlie slipped into the free chair, I found space to stand behind her, for all the world like a consort for a queen. ‘Now then, Anthony, time to move to the next phase, our most pressing problem, housing, where can our clients move on to?’

‘Why are you asking me?’

‘Damn it man, you’re one of the biggest property and landowners in the county. And there’s a housing crisis!’

‘Our town properties have an over ninety per cent occupancy, only those in the process of being sold or restored can in any sense be called vacant. And our rural properties have an actual one hundred per cent occupancy rate, one out one in, cheap rents offered to other family or community members. We, in our small way have a profitable farming community, because they’re not owners. Bit like you, your cheap rent is a chance for you to get on your feet, whilst we carry the cost of the building’s upkeep. Besides, your problem isn’t future housing for clients, it’s future work.’

‘But decent secure housing... Many will never work, and those that do will need secure addresses, benefit support...’

‘Sod the practicalities, they’ll take care of themselves, the clients will want to sort them, my point is you’re putting the cart before the horse.’

‘How so?’

‘You sold the idea of this place to me on the basis that clients with mental health issues had particular problems, they feel confined by conventional homes, need to be outside a lot of the time, free to roam, never been able to settle to a timetabled life, least not one that isn’t of their own design, but they do need purposeful work. Perhaps work is the wrong word, purposeful activity, by which I mean, whether paid or not, they must be able to see, at the end of every day, the product of their endeavours. And the same is true of the would-be craftsman, as it is for someone who is just being there for someone else. The kind of place to call home, follows from that.’

‘I see. You’ve clearly thought this through. Which suggests to me, you do have something in mind.’

‘No, just bring me an individual who is enthusiastic about any of the Trust’s activities, then if suitable, accommodation will be part of the package!’

It was Swing Night, the club’s calendar having had something of a rescheduling this year, the golf had been given its own final night entertainment and the Awayday had moved from post-season to pre-season. I was driving on our way to the dance, for we were in traditional mode for the evening event. Charlie had one of her party frocks on and that required the holding open of doors.

‘When I saw Margot yesterday for my hair, she asked if I required colouring. How bad is it getting?’

‘It’s not bad anything! I’ve always liked the style, keeping it up and the sometimes fringe. As for going grey, I really don’t care.’

‘It was noticeable when I did the podcast apparently.’

‘And yet, the Don thought you didn’t look your age!’

After the first dance, I lost track of Charlie. Fiona our part-time marketing manager had included dance cards with the invitations, I doubted they’d catch on. Inevitably I was soon in the company of Daphne; ‘Your Bel has seriously gone to town with the look, I notice.’

‘The New Look, is all she’s about these days, become obsessed with the nineteen forties. She says she wants, to be somebody, something in the media, but you have to have apparent novelty, she intends to be a revival! I blame you, it was these themed dances that gave her the idea.’

‘Then I’m more than happy to take responsibility.’

‘You know she’s good at languages? Well she’s got the sixth form on her side, in her desire to study a four-year French literature course at university, can you believe it?’

‘Four-year?’

‘It’s a sandwich, with a year studying in Paris. Apparently, it’s what you do these days if you want to be finished!’

‘It’ll cost a fortune.’

‘The foundation will pay.’

I don’t know about you but I never walk into a room without a deliberate hesitation. A check in the step, a slight leaning back on the ball of the trailing foot. On this occasion I’d noticed Mel and Tim propping up the bar, sat facing each other. Then I remembered something Charlie had said about Mel becoming a member in her own right using part of her grandfather’s inheritance. Tim was still in work clothes, Mel in something matching. Both of them were drinking pints, of the draught bitter the committee had recently demanded, I’d managed to steer them towards a micro-brewery renting from the Trust.

‘I say, your sister is cutting a dash.’

‘Isn't she just.’ Mel replied

'What brought this on?’

‘She wants to be like mother, isn’t it obvious.’

139: To the manor born

‘You two still yacking?’ She said, looking accusatively in my direction.

‘What is yacking?’ Said the voice from the chaise lounge.

‘To talk aimlessly.’ I interceded.

‘But we talk seriously, purposefully. And we are old buddies, ya?’

‘May I remind you, sir! We are due at Checkley in time for lunch. Number two car is out the front, packed and ready to go. No offence Barmy.’

‘Then we will conclude.’

‘What on earth is that?’ Charlie said looking at my screen.

‘Tony’s timeline, for the years preceding his parent’s death, so far it’s only plotted with the data from the two sets of passports, British and Swiss, but they are all road border crossings, we’ve been speculating.’

‘Amongst others things. I’ve also briefed Barmy on Jack, vis-a-vis Mel.’

‘Right.’

‘Give me a second and I’ll email this infographic to the two of you, all ideas welcome because although I learnt plenty from Daphne and Archie, that’s just eliminated possibilities, not actually suggested any answers.’

Barmy rose to leave; ‘Give some care to how you present the data, at some point you may want to give it to Eltham’s AI app. In time I’m sure he will connect it to all the road mapping data coming from his self-drive EV’s, that’s already including European borders, manned or not. If Wieck wanted the passports, or wanted them back, then it must still be a live issue, the present day should be your baseline.’

‘Holy shit!’

‘This is what they pay me for Charlie, holy shit, I see myself out.’

‘Do you trust Barmy?’ She asked when we were on the road.

‘I don’t need to; we’ve talked all this through before. Besides, we’re all family in a sense. The wildest question that occurs to me in sleepless moments is, was Barmy, then a recent import from Germany, placed alongside me at school on purpose, by persons unknown?’

‘Now that would be creepy! Anyway, what worries me now is how your uncle will react if our holiday is disturbed by my house hunting parents. I told Thayer to text any and all developments.’

‘I did pre-warn him that we might have to step out and meet your folks at some point.’

‘Thanks.’

As we were unloading at the manor, I said; ‘It’s been months and you still haven’t noticed when it’s staring you in the eye.’

‘Noticed what?’

‘Where the dish is.’

‘Should I have?’

‘This boot lid, it’s somewhat thicker than it used to be!’

‘Oh, my... I just thought I was losing it because I couldn’t get so much in. So, Jack’s lads fitted them to both?’

‘Sure, same method that’s used when they’re fitted under the skin of an aircraft.’

Then a voice-off shouted; ‘Come on you two, you're late.’

‘Fulsome apologies for our late arrive.’ I said as we came through the door of the big kitchen.

‘He says, dripping with sincerity.’ Replied uncle, with that whiff of existential despair.

‘Sorry too, in advance, for us being distracted by my parents.’ Added Charlie.

‘Now that’s, a legitimate excuse.’

A moment or two later, just as we were dunking fresh-baked bread into our homemade soup, my mobile pinged. When I raised my head from reading, they were all looking at me; ‘That was an email from Bernard.’

‘Who?’ Asked Julia.

‘His solicitor, someone finally caught up with him no doubt.’ Quipped the uncle.

‘Congratulations Charlie, you are, in the absence of any other claimants, now the proud owner of all the worldly goods of the late great Kenneth Murchison.’

‘And the flat?’

‘Any money raised to go to the Trust, Bernard suggests we give some thought to how his life might be memorialised, which by great good fortune is also now your responsibility too, given your position as lead trustee for charitable affairs.’

‘How much will the sale raise?’

‘Well, despite it having only one bedroom, it has as you’ve so often expressed, a grand location and situation, Bernard suggests there really is only one estate agent in the county capable of promoting...’

At which point Julia interrupted my peroration by reaching over and handing Charlie what looked like a copy of the forthcoming edition of The Countrywoman, presumably containing the photo spread of, and her extended captions on, the royal visits. There was a cheque paper-clipped to the front, though I was unable to read the amount.

‘But this is way too much.’ Protested Charlie.

‘Nonsense my dear, this is the second time in the magazine’s history you’ve enabled us to put Royal Exclusive on the cover.’

Late afternoon I went in search of Gregson before he packed up for the day. ‘You had me confused when you arrived sir, you not heading for the vines, like.’

‘We were late, and I rather assumed they’d be neglected.’

‘His lordship struggles a bit these days, though I doubt he’d admit as much.’ Then, looking directly at me, he said; ‘I must thank you for what you’re doing for our Tim.’

‘Er, Tim Adler is one of yours?’

‘Cousin Irene’s boy. She married an Adler, funny that. My father had three brothers, that’s how Gregsons is everywhere hereabouts. He used to love visiting when he was a nipper.’

‘He’s a useful gardener, and smart with it!’

‘Of course you see that, sir. Steering him towards the Arlington Trust and all. The others, family like, they see good school work and think, chance to get out of rural concerns. Always liked the lad. What do you make of this girl he’s hanging around with?’

‘Ah! She’s the daughter of old friends, known her since she was a child too. Tell anyone who’s concerned to rest easy.’

‘Now I must tell you, we had a day out on the railway the other day, there was a call out for volunteers to try out the first battery train. The wife put together a traditional picnic basket, quite a party atmosphere in our carriage in the end. Then afterwards we repaired at the Railway Arms, wonderful display of old photos, I couldn’t help wondering what’s intended for the bay platforms that used to take trains up the valley?’

‘Well, there is a thought they would make a good location for servicing a Dining Train, that could shuttle up and down in the evenings.’

‘Use some old Brighton Belle Pullman’s likely as not?’

‘No, no. They’re all in use by the charter trains. No, the thought is a couple of Mark One buffet cars could be restored as proper kitchen cars, back-to-back, with open First Class carriages at either end. Authentic, mid nineteen fifties.’

‘Course if you were to do it proper like you’d need to be serving Brown Windsor soup, lamb and two veg. Maybe suet pudding to finish.’

‘Perhaps we should hire your good lady to consult!’

The Moor takes people in different ways. Though we were only to be away twenty-four hours, I’d spent many hours prepping Charlie and she was in constant touch with Junior Jack. Little could be left to chance. I insisted for example that the room we would use overnight must be inferior to the one occupied by Sparkwell KC and wife.

‘We are lowly, we are humble, we attend upon and defer to. Whilst you sit demurely and hold your tongue, I am enthralled by his every utterance.’ I expounded, as I drove us through the labyrinth of moorland roads.

‘You’re going to have me behave in just the way father always expected of me. He’ll assume I’ve finally been broken on the wheel.’

‘It’s a game I’m willing to play because I’m not you. I’m guessing the fastest way to get him to relax and feel safe, is to mirror him. And tomorrow is a Sunday.’

I’m sure dear reader you are only too familiar with the modern hotel dining experience, which of course is why we have the club, so I’ll cut to the chase. Talk of house hunting arose of its own accord, but it wasn’t until later over coffee in the lounge that Sparkwell senior felt able to unburden himself. ‘Our worry, as even you may appreciate Charlotte, is as much about finding a spiritual home as a material one.’

‘I wonder sir, when you were consulting Mr Thayer, whether you took the opportunity of visiting the cathedral?’

‘Most certainly.’

‘Well, on the floor above County Estates is the office of my accountant Lawrence Brinkley, he does the cathedral’s books. And on the floor above him is my solicitor one Bernard Merriweather who is the Chancellor of the diocese of said cathedral, now they’re a gossipy old pair but, it strikes me they might be well-up on the kind of gossip, you’d want to know about.’

‘You seem remarkably well-connected Tony?’ Said Charlie’s mother.

‘Well, everyone knows everyone else hereabouts, it’s just the way it is.’

‘Thank you, Anthony. You’ve given us much to think about.’

‘Perhaps we should leave it there for today then.’

‘Yes, tomorrow is an early start. The manager informs me the local church is but a short walk.’

‘Only five minutes, but uphill all the way, father.’ Said Charlie, rising majestically.

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 off 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!’