Thursday, 26 December 2024

129: A book lover's book

I’d known it was a mistake the moment I’d agreed to it months earlier. I only had myself to blame. I’d allowed myself to be persuaded by Kenneth. He’d said how difficult he now found reading and perhaps I’d like to take over leading the Boxing Day book club. Then I’d found myself under pressure to choose a book so as to give the others time to read it. Of course, I’d just snatched an old favourite from the shelves. Now I only had a few days left to work out the case for possibly the unlikeliest bestseller of all time when it was first published over fifty years ago. I comforted myself with the thought that it was short. I’d read the author’s other works, knew a lot of biographical detail, but all the same. The only thing clear, was that the title needed explanation, I decided to start with that.

‘I suppose you’ll be expecting another Aunt Elisabeth tea?’ Said Charlie, breaking in on my thoughts.

‘It’s not me, it’s the others.’

‘Yeah, yeah. You just don’t have the will to refuse them.’


Melisa was kind enough to deliver Kenneth, and surprised me by accepting his invitation to sit in. He began by introducing me; ‘Tony’s choice today is, blessedly, a very short book and unusually for us biographical in nature, a book of selected correspondence. But I know it’s a book lover’s book, I read it first, oh, longer ago than I care to remember. Tony.’

‘Thank you, Kenneth. I think what caused me to reach for this volume was the sense that the author would have felt entirely at home in the modern world of the Internet and social media. She’d undoubtedly have been an influencer. Her lack of formality, her brevity, despite being a professional writer, is of course in sharp contrast to the recipient of her letters. Even her choice of typefaces is redolent of today. I think I can best be of service by saying something of the historic context of the book. 84, Charing Cross Road was just a small bookshop in a sea of bookshops, large and small, in nineteen forty-nine. Even more than twenty years later, when Helene Hanff finally got her wish to visit London, the Charing Cross Road was where everyone went, when in search of books that could not be found on a WH Smith bookstall. If a book was still in print then the giant Foyles had it, or at least they could get it for you. If out of print, then you could trawl the street for a good, clean copy. I regret to report that today, 84, Charing Cross Road is a McDonalds. Although it rates a blue plaque on the wall. The average time spent in that fast-food chain was once calculated as seven minutes! I imagine all of us have spent longer browsing in a bookshop. Now, who’d like to start the discussion?’

‘She implies she was more or less starving in her New York garret, is that true?’

‘Yes, but there was an element of choice to it, her first love was Broadway. She was for decades determined to be a playwright. And was singularly unsuccessful. 84, was her second book. The first was Underfoot In Showbusiness, an autobiographical account of her struggles.’

‘It’s often portrayed as a love story. Do you think she was in love with Frank Doel, despite them never meeting?’

‘No, I think they were pen pals, her love was for the England of English literature, he facilitated that. I think you need to understand how much of an autodidact Helene was. As a result of educating herself via the public libraries of Philadelphia and New York, she stumbled on the work of Arthur Quiller-Couch and allowed herself to be led by him.’

‘Quiller-Couch was a professor of English Literature at Cambridge.’ Said the lady who used to work at the library. ‘He was a Cornishman of course, but partly educated in our county. Everyone called him Q.’

‘He was keen that everyone should approach literature through the language used, how it was grounded in the real world around them, so great emphasis on biography and historical context.’ I commented.

At this point the ex-librarian opened her copy of 84 at a page she’d marked and said; ‘February 9th 1952, she’s talking of Walton’s Lives, I quote; “Q quoted enough of it so I know I’ll like it. Anything he liked I’ll like, except if it’s fiction. I never can get interested in things that didn’t happen to people who never lived.” End quote. Bit of a challenge to our little group, don’t you think Tony?’

‘Indeed. There’s another letter somewhere, in which she confides she feels she ought to know about Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and asks for a modern English version. Later she comments something like, if he’d written about what it was like to be a lowly clerk at the court of Richard III, she’d have learnt old English for that!’

‘Nobody writes letters anymore.’ Someone said. ‘I mean a letter is private, and you hardly know what you think until you start writing, its personal, you know the person you’re writing to.’

‘I guess that’s what really dates my choice. If most of you have read the edition which includes The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street, the diary of her first visit to London after the publication of 84, you’ll know that Joyce Grenfell, one of the great letter writers of the twentieth century, rapidly contacts Andre Deutsch in the hope of contriving an introduction to Helene. My bookshelves heave with Joyce, one volume contains almost daily letters, from childhood onwards, written to her mother, younger sister of Nancy Astor, another volume of lifelong letters to her childhood friend Virginia Graham.’

‘Nobody even writes emails, if they can help it. Instant opinions offered online, where do our reflections go? Sorry, I must be sounding like a terrible old bore.’ Offered Kenneth.

‘Did you approve of the play and the film, Tony?’ Said another.

‘Well, by the standards of the modern theatre and Hollywood, absolutely! Both faithfully reproduced in the script as many of the letters as they could. Just a two-hander really. A split stage and a split screen. Bookshop, interior. Small New York apartment, interior. Rather jolly and intimate.’

Then suddenly my reverie was interrupted by the sound of an approaching tea trolley. Melisa jumped up to help Charlie serve all us oldies. Aunt Elisabeth’s best china tea service, decorated Christmas paper napkins, side plates for sandwiches, followed by a fork for the consumption of gateau. Later a desert bowl and spoon for trifle. Conversation switched to the decline of letter writing in general, whilst I thought of all that washing up. Someone spoke of postcards and airmail letters from afar. Soon we were on to the decline of the Royal Mail. Four deliveries a day in London once upon a time someone claimed. Had anyone preserved a travelling post office I was asked. I had to concede I wasn’t that much of an expert on railways.

After a while I thought to myself, this room is beginning to take on the atmosphere of a Victorian tea, in a very upmarket care home, contrived with the sole purpose of facilitating reminiscence therapy. Was I becoming fascinated by just the past now, back with the History I'd started with as an undergraduate? Enough, no more dying from a severe attack of nostalgia. Get me out of here, no get these people out of here.

Thursday, 19 December 2024

128: Christmas club

‘Soon be Christmas again.’ Said Charlie one morning, as we were going about our ablutions. Thankfully there were just a few days left to endure before events kicked off. Those who mention Christmas at the earliest opportunity every year have always annoyed me. There’ll be someone, in the days following the summer solstice, who will remark; ‘The nights are drawing in, soon be Christmas.’ By August it becomes difficult not to notice the mince pies appearing on supermarket shelves.

‘So, what have you planned for our Christmas?’ she asked.

‘The club lunch on Christmas Eve, followed by Checkley Manor, but back here in time for the Book Club on Boxing Day.’

‘But it’s the same every year!’

‘Exactly, that’s the point.’


On our drive out to the club on Christmas Eve, Charlie asked who the guest speaker would be? I was able to reply; ‘Our noble Lord Coates.’

‘You know, I’ve never asked; is Frimley married?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘He never brings her to the club!’

‘Well, not in recent times. One imagines she’s fully occupied with the children.’

‘How many?’

‘Four.’

‘Crickey! You'd have thought they'd have sorted out other forms of satisfaction long ago.'

‘They hung-on for a boy, and managed it at the fourth attempt.’

‘Serve him right, three girls.’

‘That’s why his priority has always been making money, with the politics left as just a hobby.’

‘Is he a good speaker?’

‘Excellent, odd but excellent.’


Upon entering the lounge, we began to mingle. The first person I encountered was Walpole; ‘What ho, what ho! What, no Helene?’

‘She’s deep in the making of mince pies, she only attended last year when she thought me the star attraction.’

‘Reflected glory.’

‘Now I’m permanently in the doghouse for giving too much time to the railway.’

‘How are things going, I haven’t had a situation report in a while.’

‘That is because I remain deeply embroiled with the county council. I think they were upset to be so excluded in the beginning, thinking we were trying to go over their heads.’

‘Well, we were, sort of.’

‘Well now they seem determined to get their own back and summon as much outrage as they can about the apparent loss of footpaths and cycle ways.’

‘But you had a good wheeze about that.’

‘Indeed, I spelt it out for them, but now they are causing more delay by brooding over old maps, etc. In essence, I told them they were wrong to have run rough shod in the past over old pathways and bridleways. No pun intended. By correctly reinstating level crossings, fences and paths to stations, we are showing them where the public have always had a right of way and still can have. The railways in the nineteenth century had to fall in line with ancient tracks as much as the landowners whose land they were crossing did!’

‘Don’t forget I got Jack involved in the old bicycle emporium to show good intentions all round.’

‘I suppose at the end of the day we may have to actually suggest where walkers and cyclists should go, I’m not sure councillors actually know the landscape they’re supposedly protecting.’

‘Try not to, they need to believe they’ve come up with solutions themselves or otherwise they lose their reason for being.’


‘My lords, ladies, ladies and gentlemen, pray silence for the man without whom the Park would not be the Park, the club wouldn’t be the club, and we’d all be out of a job, wandering the streets; our friend and benefactor, the man himself, Anthony Arlington.’

‘Thank you, Mr Secretary, eloquent and flattering as always. I’m obliged to you for giving me a couple of minutes to address you all, before introducing our guest speaker. As many of you are aware we are approaching the end of our various schemes to upgrade the Park, but must now face the final challenge - the water pipe and pumping station replacement. I wish to reassure you all, that although this task was anticipated in the original financial plans, the Trust stands ready to provide extra funding should the unexpected occur, or more leaks than anticipated be discovered. Now, from the walled garden southwards, through the stables and the bungalows to all parts of the house now in use new piping has been fitted. We now face the long haul to the edge of the parkland where we take water from the river. Survey work will start shortly, and disruption will begin in the spring, hopefully cuts in supply will only occur on a couple of occasions and for a few hours only, notices will be posted to you all in plenty of time. Now then, today’s speaker is known to you all and in a unique position to comment on the political disruption we’ve all faced this year, indeed over the last five years. He is, alas, now our only political insider, able to at least report if not influence events from his lofty perch in the House of Lords. And so, with no more to-do, I give our noble lord, Frimley Coates.’

‘Thank you, Anthony. I should perhaps point out that it is customary only to use the expression “noble lord” when one peer is addressing another. However, if my nobility amuses you, then who am I... You may think it odd that I should address you at this pagan festival, my faith gives emphasis to Easter as a time, following an appropriate period of fasting, to indulge and celebrate. But I fear with the ascendancy of the worker’s party we are all in for an extended period of puritan, rule-governed restraint and self-abasement. You may protest that we only have ourselves to blame, and it does seem that so many in the once great party have spent years running around like headless chickens, having little or no effect upon the fortunes of the nation. Buffy Trumpton, to whom I owe my own political good fortune, seemed to blow a fuse, almost at the point of achieving that which he had coveted for so long. Others were perhaps never up to the job. I too have been accused of, if not incompetence, then of being irrelevant. Some elderly wit was overheard complaining to some other even more elderly person that my style was “out of date before you were born”. Well, I take comfort that the best of the past is never out of date here at the club and amongst all you fellows. I find solace too, of course, in my faith and the inspiration offered by the holy father. His holiness was gracious enough to offer my wife and I a brief audience this year. His life-long determination to avoid the trappings of office and to remain at heart a simple parish priest is surely an example to us all. We are all sinners, no matter how we spend our lives, we cannot transcend human nature, the assumption of so many political idealists, we can only attempt to emulate something of the life of Christ though we know we are bound to fail at the last, such is the human condition. And so, I offer a toast to, God the father, God the son and God the holy spirit!’

‘Amen!’ Cried someone.

‘I’m sorry, I got a little carried away there, must be the wine. I have of course sworn an oath to the crown. I give you, the King!’

Thursday, 12 December 2024

127: The vision thing

‘How was your bonding jolly at Bilberry?’ Said Jack as Charlie and I walked into his office.

‘You remain as well connected, and as cynical, as ever.’ I replied.

‘Melisa gives me a direct line to quite a lot these days, not to mention Fiona.’

‘Mel hanging around today, is she?’

‘Come on through to the back of the workshop.’

A moment or two later I was abruptly stopped in my tracks; ‘Is that Northcott Electrics?’ I exclaimed.

‘Repainted, relabelled, and re-distressed. We’ve remade the outside for suburban respectability.’ Said Jack.

Melisa, dressed in well distressed overalls, then drew back the sliding door. ‘Good lord! Still carrying Cat’s assorted house breaking implements I see. But from all outward appearances, it looks like one of our garden centre delivery vans!’

‘Got in one, old son. Only now it is “Pemberton’s” friendly deliveries, just the right touch for your part of town.’

‘Could be a flower shop.’

‘Or ready meals.’ Suggested Charlie.


A few weeks later, Melisa plonked a package, a large brown envelope about an inch thick, down in front of me on our kitchen table as we were all sat waiting for Charlie to pour tea. A few hours earlier Mel had successfully delivered Kenneth to us for the first time and in the preceding weeks got her parents to accept the van. She was now splitting her time between Royal Oak, Jack’s garage and the college one evening a week. ‘Do I spy the handiwork of Merriweather and Stollard?’ I asked.

‘I can’t get my head around it; will you look at it for me Tony?’

‘Sure, talk amongst yourselves for five minutes.’

And they did, whilst I shuffled paper, checking for no surprises, and collecting my thoughts. ‘Right then. First off, this is your parents sharing their plans, there is nothing you need to do, other than bit by bit familiarise yourself with the contents. I think I have two bits of advice. At some point you will be asked to become a trustee, you accept, in exchange for some sort of allowance and expenses. You attend meetings, observe, keep yourself informed but at arm’s length from the day-to-day business, as likely as not you’ll find it convenient to go along with your parent’s wishes most of the time. However, in general conversation, at home, or indeed anywhere else, you make it known that in the fullness of time, when you have the power to do so, you intend to break the historic connection between your family and the arms, ordinance, intelligence, security industries etc. You won’t throw assets away, but simply turn shares into cash and use those assets for more down to earth, broadly conservation type, local projects and good works in general. This might happen next year or in thirty years’ time, but you just make your intentions generally known.’

There was a pause, then with a look of wonderment and turning towards Charlie, she asked; ‘How does he do that?’

‘Oh, don’t ask!’ Was her reply.

‘Do what?’ I asked.

‘Someone one once called it, “the vision thing’’, never had it myself.’ Added Kenneth.

‘It sounds simple, and in fact it actually is!’ I asserted.


‘The full English please.’ I spoke.

‘Standard, Between Stations or Gut Buster?’ Said the lady behind the counter.

‘Oh! Standard thank you, extra standard.’

‘Beans or grilled tomatoes?’

‘Tomatoes.’

‘Toast or fried bread?’

‘Fried bread, naturally.’

‘Hash brown or potatoes?’

‘Potatoes?’

‘Chopped and lightly fried.’

‘Yes, why not.’ Once we were sat down at the new greasy spoon cafe, just up from the bicycle workshop and down from the Railway Arms at the Abbey station, I turned to my companion and asked; ‘Why are we here Charlie?’

‘Feeling outside your comfort zone?’

‘A little.’

‘It’s all Trust property, and you are a director of the railway.’

‘It’s not easy keeping up with developments these days, one seems to have so many fingers in pies.’

‘We are here to admire the pic-tures, as you might say.’

‘Oh yes, the internal decoration is rather pleasing.’

‘The once travelling exhibition, has been divided up between here and the pub, we’ll take a look later, after doing the bike centre. Mind you, you are a little over dressed. I should have given greater thought to our schedule this morning.’

‘Ah! Now I remember. This cafe has a specific purpose, it will be a favourite amongst travellers, railway workers and train spotters alike. It will serve food that the refined refreshment rooms at the station will not, and be cheaper. In the act of restoring authentic refreshment rooms, we create somewhere everyone will want to look at, perhaps even have a cup of tea at, but will come here to stuff their faces!’

Our ‘all day breakfasts’ arrived, we got stuck in. Then Charlie asked; ‘Why on earth are you bringing back platform tickets?’

‘The train spotters and railway photographers aren’t rich, but the Abbey station is where all the action will be, yet they are the ones upon whom we depend to spread the word far and wide that we are where it’s at!’

‘And you’ll be forcing everyone over the footbridge, if you reinstate platform four!’

‘Once everyone has experienced the full experience, everyone will be in favour, including the disabled.’

‘How?’

‘First and foremost, everyone must go through the restored booking hall, then choose the stairs or the lift. Naturally, a porter will be on hand to assist. Once on the over bridge, freshly restored so as to be open to the elements on both sides, it becomes the ideal viewing platform for the whole station, and the experience of passing steam!’

‘Blimey!’

‘Any more questions, on the “vision thing”?’

‘No, no, I’ll keep my mouth shut.’


We wondered up the street to the bike emporium. The first person we saw was young Melisa; ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

‘As Jack’s general dogsbody I go where I’m sent. I’m here for the week. When he’s decided what I’m good for, he’s promised a proper apprenticeship.’

‘You’ve sold this place to Jack!’ Exclaimed Charlie turning towards me.

‘A cheap lease, putting him in my debt, just a little.’

‘You two looking for bikes? Very competitive prices.’

‘Good god, no! I’d rather keep jogging. Bikes would only lead to instant road rage. Besides we can’t just chuck them in the back of a van like you.’

‘We could get a foldaway each.’ Offered Charlie.

‘Have you seen the price?’

‘Says the richest man in a ten-mile radius.’

I looked at my watch; ‘Oh look, just turning eleven. Time to take a look at the Railway Arms I think.’


I ordered bitter, Charlie a bottle of German larger. Which rather summed up the age divide, she just turned forty, me in my middle fifties. Short of sawdust on the floor, I thought they’d made an excellent job of the pub. ‘You know, most people as they get older start getting nostalgic about their youth, but what preoccupies me is something older.’

‘You’re nostalgic for a time you never experienced.’

‘Quite!’

‘But if it’s a time before your time, then it’s a world divided by class, with you at the top of the tree.’

‘Well I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just some things were done better in the past.’

‘You are outside your comfort zone. You have all the right ideas, dreamt-up in front of the fire at the gentleman’s club. You’re always dressed like a man at his club, a man out of his time. Worse, maybe a man out of time?’

Looking again towards the pictures, I replied; ‘Alas yes, it seems I was born too late for the age of elegance!’

Thursday, 5 December 2024

126: Evil under the sun

I had retreated to the media room, on account of Charlie having a private client. I hadn’t noticed the doorbell ring, but perhaps she’d seen whoever, arriving. After an hour or so of worrying those at the old bank about post-election strategy, I stretched my legs by wandering into the bedroom and looking down on the garden. I was shocked to see Charlie ferrying, it was the only word for it, a crouching Tuffy along the path to the back gate.


‘How was your client, responsive to the Sparkwell touch?’ I asked over our lunchtime rations.

‘Not really. I ended-up introducing some yoga for him to practice.’

‘Good God! Well, that explains it I suppose.’

‘Explains what?’

‘Why your so-called client was bent double leaving by the back gate.’

‘You saw?’

‘I did indeed.’

‘It wasn’t my idea!’

‘I imagine not.’

‘He insists everything should be shrouded in secrecy, not just from Victoria, but from you too, in case you were tempted to blab. He said; “You know Tony, he has tentacles everywhere.” He's overwhelmed.’

‘What’s happened to the poor fellow?’

‘I'm not even sure about that. He spent quite a time muttering about the railway.’

‘Our railway?’

‘No, the model set in the attic. He thinks he could create something more authentic than your lot.’

‘Good lord! Well, yes if it’s a model then it’s always simpler.’

‘I just wish he'd give some thought to who he’s talking to, I mean his twin obsessions are you and Victoria, how can I be expected to observe client confidentiality when there’s such a conflict of interest?’

‘They do say, that having chosen someone as your confessor it’s often difficult to break the habit.’


‘I say! There’s no packed lunch, damn it.’

‘Calm yourself Tuffy.’ I asserted. We were all aboard the old charabanc, heading out from the club on our annual Awayday. This year we were off to Bilberry-on-Sea, with a promise of lunch at the posh hotel on the island that sat across the causeway.

‘They’ll be takeaway coffees at the beach, whilst we wait for the sea tractor to ferry us across.’ Said Cat, taking on his usual role of tour guide.

Walpole and Helene were sat behind us, enjoying a tour again. ‘Well, this is very pleasant. You realise we hardly go anywhere together these days Walpole.’

‘Alas, pressure of work.’

‘That’s what you used to say in the old days, you’re meant to be retired!’

‘Well, I say work, but more like a hobby really, something one can be enthusiastic about.’

‘I hope there’ll be no arguments about detectives today.’

‘Strange, I wasn’t aware today’s misery tour took us to local locations from The Hound of the Baskervilles or the disappearance of Silver Blasé.’

‘Really Walpole! You know perfectly well to whom I refer. The island was an inspiration to Agatha Christie, there’s even a summer chalet in the hotel grounds where she used to write.’

‘Oh really? Would I recognise any of her titles?’

‘Evil Under The Sun, was one!’


‘Were there any art-deco buildings that didn’t have flat roofs?’ I said to Walpole as we stood looking at the only feature in the landscape of note, whilst consuming our coffees.

‘I can’t think of any, and they all leaked.’

‘Your Sherlock comment has set me thinking about next year, I’m looking for an alternative to stave off a small cabal determined we should do Christie’s home Greenway next.’

‘Oh lord!’ Then a moment later; ‘Oh, now what? Helene is gesturing with a beckoning digit. See you later.’

Melisa separated herself from the family Gruber and came over for a chat. ‘How was the bank?’ I enquired.

‘Great, Charlie helped me out.’

‘Getting a handle on financial affairs now will save countless hours in the future. Has Jack found you wheels yet?’

‘Yes, Mr Mackintosh’s old van has turned up and he’s fixing it, says it needs a lot of work though. Mother says you’d reassured her I wouldn’t turn up in some fancy sports. You’re involved with all this somehow, you seem to have leverage with practically everyone I meet!’

‘Okay, I confess, I found the van. Cat will transfer ownership to me because I’m doing him a favour in another matter. Jack is under instruction to do it all up to suit your needs, I’ll pay him whatever he sees fit to charge me, depending on how much he feels I owe him. We, have a sort of informal business partnership going. You meanwhile, need to work out how much it will cost you to run, cash you’ll have to pay, wherever it actually comes from, such as insurance, road tax, MOT, petrol per mile etc. When all that’s sorted, I simply transfer ownership to you.’

‘What? Free, gratis and for nothing.’

‘Well, there’s really no need for cash to exchange hands. I owe you an eighteenth birthday present anyway and there are occasional favours you could do for me.’

‘I’m beginning to think mother isn’t right about you!’

‘She’s biased. No, right now, there’s only one thing I can think of that would make a real difference. Would you be willing to chauffer Kenneth back and forth to our place twice a week so he can stay involved with the garden?’

‘Of course, no worries.’

‘Young Timothy not with you today?’

‘I don’t allow him to come just anywhere!’

‘Glad to hear it.’


It was whilst eating our luxurious lunch that I realised that what obsessed modernist architects were the interiors they created, and if that meant an horrendous outside, so be it. We lounged awhile after eating, then the heartier folk set off for a walk around the island. I looked for Charlie, but she was nowhere to be seen, so I just followed the group in front. Later, as we were gathering for the return ferry, I was chatting to Victoria, a few steps apart from all the others. Cat approached looking hassled and declared; ‘We’re missing two!’

‘So much so obvious.’ I replied.

‘What?’

‘I am without Charlie, Victoria is minus Tuffy, thus we deduce they are together.’

‘Good lord! I say, sorry about that and all.’

‘Oh!’ Exclaimed the Lady Vic; ‘I think we’re fairly safe in assuming Charlotte is doing her best to therapize Tuffy! And I don’t think either Tony nor I, would fully claim to know the mind of Tuffy.’

‘Absolutely. Anyway Cat, I suggest Vic and I take ten minutes to walk around the top of the island again, that’ll give us the best view.’

Five minutes later, as we were walking a path above an almost amphitheatre like cove, two figures could be seen on the beach below. I recognised Charlie by the only too familiar pose, that of the assertive fitness instructor. The figure attempting to rise out of Cobra must be Tuffy.

‘He’s only just wolfed down a large lunch!’ Said the Lady Vic.

‘Being on sand won't help. Hush a second, we might be able to hear something...’

‘Now gently rising into Warrior, try not to stretch or strain.’ Charlie could be heard to caution. But Tuffy had other ideas, he pushed on into full Victory pose. Arms out stretched forming a V and fingers spread.

‘Oh, my God!’ Said Vic, then added; ‘She’s changed into her kit.’

‘Yes, Charlie is notoriously high bound in the matter of yoga and fitness apparel.’

It was then, and I can't honestly say what made me do it, that I cupped my hands to my mouth and sent a ‘koo-ee' echoing around the cliff face. Tuffy collapsed instantly in a heap.

‘That was, brutal but effective Tony.’

‘Sometimes you need an utter bastard to stop an idiot.’ I replied.

Thursday, 28 November 2024

125: The enemy within

All was not well from the off. As Charlie drew to a halt at the rear of Checkley Manor, uncle could be seen sitting on the bench seat outside the back door. He was attempting to smoke his pipe, something I’d not seen him do in many a year. ‘You find us in a state of chaos.’ He declared, with a cough. ‘That couple will be the death of me.’ Cough, wheeze. ‘Why I ever listened to you in the first place I’ll never know, I must be losing the plot. If you’d been here when you should have been, messing around with politics...’

‘Uncle! What on earth has happened?’

‘We were promised two weeks, three at the outside, so far it’s been almost a month!’

‘Do I take it the Gregson’s are still living-in?’

‘You do.’

‘Well, we’ll leave you in peace then, go and say hello to Julia.’


We discovered Aunt Julia in the library, doing a rare impression of uncle, hands behind her back, pawing the rug of the hearth in front of the non-existent fire. ‘Be seated the two of you. I’m afraid you find me in temporary command, my beloved having deserted the field of fire.’

‘Yes, we’ve already exchanged words at the back door.’

‘How did he seem?’

‘Disconsolate.’

‘Self-pitying more like. Now listen-up. Your task these holidays Tony, is not to keep your uncle absorbed in purposeful activity as before, but to keep Gregson away from him. And hopefully offer what assistance you can in facilitating their removal, ASAP, back to their rightful residence.’

‘I see.’

‘Whilst Charlotte will place herself between myself and Mrs Gregson. Any questions?’

‘Yes, what the hell has been going on?’


‘Evening Mr Gregson.’

‘Oh, thank goodness you’re here, sir.’

‘Are you free to talk?’

‘Yes, if you'd care to walk with me, I'm off to inspect today’s progress at the cottage.’

‘Things have been taking longer than expected I gather?’ I said, as we moved off.

‘Putting a bit of a strain on relations with his lordship I’m afraid, sir.’

‘Well, I’ll do what I can to smooth things over. So, the builders not pulling their fingers out?’

‘Oh no, sir. They’ve been very thorough, here every day when they have the materials. It’s the supply chain that’s the problem, demand for the most dependable gas heating parts has been very high, all the stuff that makes your system more robust, prepping for the row over heat pumps, which I’m assured couldn’t even keep the damp out of an old property like ours, located as we are next to the river. The supporting masonry is solid stone, only the back wall, the more modern extension has an insulated cavity now, and of course the roof, now has several layers of the whatever too. But even with double glazing throughout, you need heating with poke.’

‘Quite.’

When we arrived at the cottage, there was an old fashion hand written note left by the builders on the kitchen table. It read; ‘Will test heating tomorrow, if all’s well will leave on background, proceed with internal paintwork, five days approx. Advise further two days for further drying out before you return.’

‘That’s rather nice, to receive a hand written note, and legible too!’

‘Indeed, sir.’

‘How will the delay affect the bill?’

‘Hardly at all, the man hours have been more or less as expected, as I say supply chain issues, these lads always have other jobs to go to.’ Then he gave me a bit of a tour of the cottage.

‘Mrs Gregson will appreciate the changes.’

‘Oh, indeed, sir.’

‘How is her health?’

‘It will improve now. She’s become very much an inside person.’

Then we moved out onto the decking of the patio and took the walkway down to the little river jetty. ‘It would be nice to see fish back in the river.’ I spoke.

‘His lordship has been frustrated over acquiring the old brickworks. This A & C Restorations have plans of their own apparently.’

‘I know. Clean up the site, then half a dozen residential properties with river frontage and a generous half a field behind for a horse or two. The new railway company have already dredged around their quay at the old naval port and are looking to take on work further up river, provided the environment agency can be persuaded they don’t have a monopoly on wisdom when it comes to climate measures.’

‘You seem a lot better informed than we are?’

‘Well, fingers in pies Mr Gregson.’

Then we started our walk back to the house. ‘Looking back, I suppose relations with his lordship began to go downhill after all that business with the vines.’ Reflected Gregson.

‘Well, I feel much the same way, I found that offering help tended to fall on deaf ears, in the end I just went ahead and did things uninvited. He wasn’t displeased, he could see the sense in them, he just seemed more annoyed with himself for not being at the top of his game. He doesn’t seem to have grown into, growing old. I hope I learn not to look a gift horse in the what’s it! What’s for supper, I wonder?’

‘Pie, peas and new potatoes. Followed by a plumb sponge for dessert, the wife assures me.’

‘Oh, excellent!’


Nobody said much at the meal. Gregson saved his good news on the cottage until we were passing around the custard. I got approving glances from both Julia and Uncle, they must have assumed I’d been working my magic touch, I said nothing to disabuse them. Despite the fact we’d all been offered Mrs Gregson’s traditional English rural fare; I noticed everyone had cleared their plates!


The vines in the walled garden had been much neglected. I set-to, to try and catch-up a bit. But it wasn’t long before I was interrupted; ‘Why aren’t you keeping my beloved out of Gregson’s way?’ Said a stern voice behind me.

‘In case you hadn’t noticed Julia, both Uncle and Gregson are doing a perfectly good job of keeping out of each other’s way without my assistance. Besides there’s much to be done here.’

‘I see. Now then, since we’re alone. A is for Anthony and C is for Charlotte.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Not like you to use such a simple nom de plume.’

‘Ah! Well, it is just a temporary measure.’

‘Enough to fool your uncle, you mean.’

‘He doesn’t have a suspicious mind like you. One has to try to do good by stealth where he is concerned. It’s just me doing what he always wanted, but with a bit of get up and go. Sometimes the best person for the job just has to step up and get on with it. I’ll hand it all over when it’s done.’

‘But at what price?’

‘The only price, will be greater influence.’


I found Charlie chopping wood. Stripped to sports bra, yoga pants and with her baseball cap serving as a sweet band, squirrel flowing out the back, she made an impressive site. ‘How’s it going?’ I enquired.

‘I’m catching up, slowly. Beatrice’s diet takes some working off.’

‘Beatrice? Who she?’

‘Mrs Gregson, idiot.’

‘I see. This has all been a bit of a storm in a tea cup.’

‘What?’

‘Uncle in a panic. Feeling the grip of the grim reaper’s icy touch no doubt, the whiff of existential despair.’

‘Well, you said it. We’ll need to get back to a strict regime of diet and exercise when we get home.’

‘Oh my God.’ I said, as another log split neatly with a single blow and fell to the ground.

Thursday, 21 November 2024

124: Winners and losers

‘That’s not a good look, is it?’ Said the first of the election commentators sat at the club bar with their necks craned towards the tv.

‘Rain pissing down and can’t even get the police to stop the idiot with the ghetto blaster!’ Said a second.

‘I hear Mackintosh isn’t even running a book, local or national.’ Replied the first.

‘But they’re under starters orders!’ Opined the second.

‘The game is on.’ Asserted the first.

‘The phrase is Shakespeare’s, it’s; “The game’s afoot”, Henry V.’ I helpfully interrupted.

‘What ho, Antonio! Mackintosh unwell, is he?’ Enquired the second.

‘No, he just thinks, like most people, that the outcome is a foregone conclusion.’

‘But people will bet on anything. Even the number of bricks in a cell.’ Mumbled a third.

‘You might have tipped us the wink on the date Tony.’ Said the first.

‘I’ve no inside track since the demise of Buffy I’m afraid.’

I find the banality of conversation at the club quite reassuring at times. And it often gives one a surprising feeling of superiority. However, I felt a slight inner anxiety about the election result. Always the unexpected, the unpredictable. ‘Events dear boy, events’ I thought to myself.


A few weeks into, what seemed an interminable campaign, Charlie declared; ‘Blimey! A text from Buffy, “see link”, what on earth? Perhaps I should change my number?’

‘Probably his timely intervention.’

‘What?’

‘I received an email earlier linking to a pre-publication article for The Beacon.’

‘But why?’

‘Well, Buffy needs to show loyalty to the party at least, whatever he thinks of the Head Boy.’

‘I meant, why include me?’

‘He’s a fan, hoping for your support. He’s never not campaigning. You know, when we last met a year ago, he was raving about Rory’s disloyalty, saying I could have him back now, and the same applied to Carrie. He suggested a swap, you for Carrie.’

‘Jesus! What a creep. What did you say?’

‘Unfortunately, that’s his idea of witty banter amongst the boys. I was angry and just said something like “ha, ha, very funny”, and left.’

‘That was the day he lost the dog, wasn’t it? Was he found?’

‘Oh, yes. Just in the wrong bedroom, trying to hump an antique armoire!


The bottom dropped off one of Charlie’s treats as she was dunking it in her extra strength, stay awake all night, coffee. The tv having just announced the exit poll, giving the hitherto opposition, a handsome majority way beyond Buffy’s previous effort; ‘That’s unreal, isn’t it?’

‘Sure. But then leaving a D-day commemoration early is unreal.’

Then we settled in for the long haul of eccentric election night live broadcasting. Much of the amusement deriving from the need to fill so much ‘dead air’!

‘Well at least it’s more fun than the coronation!’ Charlie commented, referencing the last occasion upon which she’d countenanced a period of extended viewing. Then; ‘What’s “smart politics”?’

‘Haven’t a clue. Perhaps it involves “joined-up thinking”.’

A bit later I thought I heard someone on screen say; ‘The Greens will be holding the new government’s feet to the fire over global warming.’

At one point in the endless lull, a sudden thought occurred; ‘Oh! I meant to ask, how did it go with Melisa and Archie?’

‘She said it was nice not being treated like a child. He was very good, after he’d done all the ID stuff, he was quite up front about what he knew about the situation at the old bank and with her parents. He talked about how she needing personal financial independence plus an ability to protect her family’s assets. She said you’d said she should do a night school accountancy course. He agreed, but not just for the self-employed or individual businesses, but how banks, trusts, foundations and charities differ in their accountancy methods.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Then he said what I was thinking, the earlier you make a start on that stuff, the easier and less time consuming it will be.’

‘And maybe good news for you too, a lifelong financial supporter for your favourite charity perhaps?’

‘I know you can’t help it, but really!’

Then suddenly, out of the blue a tv voice said; ‘And now we can go over to the Riviera Conference Centre for the Bay area result.’ The chief returning officer and the commentators really need not have said anything, the faces on the stage said it all. Rory, looked lost and confused; Brenda deeply serious, wishing to appear errorless on tv. The result was almost an exact reversal from the last time. What had appeared a comfortable majority for Rory at the time, now handed to Brenda. Long may it last I said silently to myself.

We stayed watching until Buffy’s result came through, a much-reduced majority, but he’d survived to fight another day. It was now becoming clear that the predictions of the exit poll were to be realised. ‘So, what do we make of it all?’ Charlie asked as she switched off.

‘More public spending masquerading as liberalism, the country flushing more assets down the toilet.’

‘Buffy was always a joke; Rory was always a joke.’

‘We play the cards as they fall.’

‘So, what is your Brenda?’

‘She, is damage limitation.’

‘What’s the answer then?’

‘Economic growth. But what the politicians never seem to face up to is that public investment rarely leads to growth, whilst leaving money in the public’s hands, does!’

‘I’m going to bed.’

The following morning, what had started in rain, ended in rain.


A few days later I was loitering at the Park when I noticed Rory slumped in one of the easy chairs in the lounge. Being a prudent man, I went first in search of Prudence. I found her by the pond looking pensive. ‘I hope you’re not here to gloat?’ she said.

‘Merely to commiserate.’

‘As if you care.’

‘Care? For you and Rory, naturally. For a career in politics, not a jot.’

‘Rory has suffered reputational damage; he’ll not be selected again.’

‘Still, you have your fall-back employment lined-up I take it?’

‘I haven’t had time, I’ve been fighting Rory’s corner, alone!’

‘There is a limit you know, to how much you can mould someone. You might take a leaf out Lady Victoria’s book, regarding Tuffy Tufnell. Just find something for Rory to do that makes him feel useful.’

‘Is that your approach with Charlotte?’

‘Oh no, she’s a law unto herself, but then she is a going concern.’

‘Oh, just go away.’


‘Goodness, Rory! I hadn’t expected to see you here. I thought you’d be lying down in a darkened room somewhere.’

‘I was, until Prudence threatened to... Well let’s just say she was threatening.’

‘I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss and that if you’re in need of a job, well, I understand our garden centre is looking for temporary summer staff.’ Then, after a moment I thought better of it; ‘Sorry, shouldn’t be facetious.’

‘I quite like flowers; they bring joy you know?’

‘Really.’

‘I might like running a flower shop, I could use my severance package. Though Prudence would never countenance it I suppose.’

‘I imagine not, but then you don’t have to do everything to please her. You could tell her to like it, or lump it.’

‘Oh, I don’t think I could ever do that.’

Then, thankfully, we were interrupted by the club secretary. ‘A quick word in your ear Tony, if I may?’

‘What’s going down?’

‘That’s what I was going to ask you! Fact is, well we’ve had a booking for conference facilities from Frimley and his Constitution Group again.’

‘Nothing wrong with that.’

‘No, no. It’s just, if we’re seen to accept his lot, then we can’t very well be seen to refuse the other lot, them being in government now.’

‘Quite right too. Have you had a request from the other lot?’

‘No, but it’s only a matter of time.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Well with growing power, comes a growing sense of entitlement.’

Thursday, 14 November 2024

123: Pre-election predilections

‘Cheeky cow!’

‘Who?’ Asked Charlie.

‘Brenda Radnor, a text; “Buy me lunch at your club.” That, must not be allowed to happen. It would blow my cover.’

‘How so?’

‘Seeing me in my natural milieu. Especially if she got talking to other members.’

‘What on earth have you been telling her about yourself?’

‘Well, no lies or deceptions as such. I’ve just spun things to imply that my role with the Trust, and its various interests, is very much, hands-off.’

‘Ha! You know Fiona likes to keep her finger on the pulse?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, every day she takes it upon herself to peruse the list of all those who have been through the spa and hence out on the golf course too, members and guests.’

‘Oh, lord!’

‘The other day she said your Brenda had played a round.’

‘You might have thought to mention it!’

‘I am.’

‘We must have lunch somewhere else, somewhere neutral.’


Charlie had given me explicit instructions on how to get there. And although I’d left in plenty of time, I barely had a moment to compose myself before Brenda appeared. ‘Your text was very curt.’ She said, somewhat abruptly.

‘When you do finally appear at the club it will be in triumph, as our elected member of parliament. Then you will be doing so as part of your legitimate business, and no one, particularly your own side will be able to object.’

‘I suppose you have a point.’

‘I didn’t know you were a golfer.’

‘How do you know about that?’

‘I may be only one, largely disinterested trustee, but I do have a network to inform me of relevant facts.’

‘So, tell me about my opponent.’ I then proceeded with a thumb nail sketch, from school through to marriage to the formidable Prudence.

‘But I know most of that! I’ve read all the background material, I got your titbits from The Beacon would you believe, makes one wonder where they got them from?’

‘I hold up my hands, their executive editor is a member of the club.’

‘That explains a lot.’

‘However, everything I’ve just said is by why of context for the strategy I’m going to recommend. A way of not slipping on several banana skins.’

‘Go on.’

‘Do not confront him directly in debate, you’ll humiliate him in moments, remember you need the votes of people who previously supported him, you don’t want them to feel complete idiots. All you need to do is look good in comparison, that is competent to look after the interests of local people. At the last two elections Rory’s opposition wasn’t exactly, outstanding. Right? And of course, it is only a little over six years since the party’s last MP was forced to resign in disgrace. The election will be yours by being just a bit positive and upbeat about what you can do to help the local area recover.’

‘You know you’re very good at this, ever thought of going into politics?’

‘Well, they did ask me, but I always wanted to stay where the real power and money lay!’

‘Mmm. You’ll be please to know that the owners of the station properties in our village have been made aware that the heritage railway is seen in a positive light by most other residents. And also, that there are other properties in the village that they could well afford if they chose to accept the railway’s offer.’

‘Well, that is good news.’

‘I, er, must confess that whilst reading about Flotterton I found myself looking up other references to our area in The Beacon over the last five years or so.’

‘They’re always entertaining, though prone to some exaggeration.’

‘You seem very good at keeping your own name out of the paper.’

‘That, should be a source of great reassurance to you.’


‘You sent for me, my noble lord.’ I said to the back of Frimley’s head as he was sitting at the club bar.

‘I did indeed, you owe me a drink.’ replied the Lord Coates.

‘And I’m more than happy to oblige.’

‘I thought I ought to save my couple of nuggets of news until we could meet face to face.’

‘Much the safest way.’

‘The SI granted some while ago was placed on the table of the House in a quiet moment. It was picked-up, read and, not to be too euphemistic about it, promptly put down again. I thought the only important person who needed to consider it, was the local MP for the area effected.’

‘I imagine you arranged for him to be casually loitering at the time.’

‘I was told years ago by someone, probably by you, that he was fine being let out on his own, if he could be pointed in the right direction.’

‘Perhaps you went so far as to suggest that if he left it well alone, there might be votes in it.’

‘You might very well think that Anthony, I couldn’t possibly comment.’

‘Well, it may give him hope, buck the fellow up a bit.’

‘You still believe him a lost cause?’

‘Even with the most modest of national swings.’

‘Now, the other matter concerns the Palace, I must choose my words even more carefully. To paraphrase; “One would be more than content to hammer in the golden spike”, I think my reply was something like, he must be thinking of American railroads, not our style.’

‘Watched too many old movies about conquering the wild west in his youth no doubt.’

‘No doubt. However, it was also mentioned that he had to visit the naval college in the near future. I suggested he take the royal train to just across the river, then the college’s launch could pick him up on the railway quay, possibly after he’d admired progress on the line so far.’

‘Well, that’s excellent, let us raise another glass to His Majesty.’

‘I came down on the train this time. I must say it was a pleasant surprise to see no blue containers obscuring one’s first view of the Bay.’


That evening, I put in a call from the media room to Junior Jack. ‘John, Tony. You can put the word out; we’re all systems go! All legal hurdles are passed. We can proceed with any aspect of phase one, apart from the bits we require others to do that is. In fact, I see no reason not to do everything through company channels now, no need for any us to go skulking about anymore.’

‘I've heard from our estate agents.’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Matey at the station in the picturesque village had been nervously making enquiries, wanting to know if our original offer was still good. I said it was, through gritted teeth. He accepted a couple of days later.’

‘You’re a top man, John.’

‘So, you and the old timers have got your own way, just in time I’d say.’

‘All the politics of it you mean?’

‘I mean Dad, he doesn’t have long, if I’m any judge.’

‘I’m sorry John, I know he never really had time for me, but it was you and Jimmy he was looking out for.’

‘He had a funny way of showing it.’

‘There won’t be problems with his estate?’

‘Nah, Jimmy and I will work it out. See you at the next board meeting if not before, give my regards to “er indoors” won't you?’

‘Of course. So long for now.’

Thursday, 7 November 2024

122: In the swing of it

Despite Charlie’s assertion that Cat Mackintosh would have no time-off from organising the golf, nonetheless I found him loitering one day in the veranda bar at the club. ‘What ho, what ho, my old former companion at arms!’

‘Oh, hello Tony.’

‘You look a little glum, my old son. Don’t tell me, the hassle of the golf tournament has induced a mood of melancholy.’

‘No, no. Its Annabella, she wants me to raise something with you, might be a bit of a thorny issue.’

‘Steel yourself, old friend of my youth.’

‘Fact is, she wants to sell number forty-two.’

‘Makes sense.’

‘But she’s worried about security of tenure at your apartment. I mean we’ve got used to it, it’s much more desirable than forty-two, but you’re hardly in a position to guarantee that low rent for ever, I mean you don’t actually own it do you, your trust does.’

‘Yes, we’ve retained it since my father’s day. Though there’s no real reason to now. I say, Annabella isn’t selling because you’re short of the readies?’

‘No, just surplus to requirements.’

‘Well then, why don’t you buy a lease on my apartment?’

‘We’re not that flush old man! The place is the envy of all the other residents, and if it’s never been on the market, the price could sky rocket.’

‘But Cat, you know the owner, you’re the sitting tenant. Persuade me to persuade the trustees to let you have it, for whatever price you get for forty-two.’

There was a definite pause for thought; ‘What do you want?’

‘What I want is Northcott Electrics, I've found a worthy home for it.’

‘Who?’

‘A young person who'll appreciate its value.’

‘But it’s not road worthy anymore.’

‘Well get Jack to pick it up, commission him to do whatever is necessary to bring it up to scratch, then transfer ownership to me before the bill is due. Then you’ll be free and clear, Annabella won't have to know you’ve been hanging on to it all this time, and I won’t tell anyone at the Park where you've been stashing it. Then I can go to work on the Trust.’

Cat gave me one of his old-time, subordinates, sideways glances; ‘How do you know all this? On second thoughts don’t bother. I’ve long ago accepted I must look like a bit of a duffer to the likes of you and Barmy. Besides, I can't think of a catch?’

‘That’s because there isn't one. There is one condition though, you stay off your device and let me break the bad news to the despicable soul who has been breaking the terms of their lease by sub-letting their car port to you.’

Then I wandered off towards the spa. Fiona was doing her rounds, seemingly interrogating the girl on the desk. ‘I say, has Mrs Armitage been across today?’

‘She’s practicing her putting Mr Arlington. Hole number two.’

‘Excellent.’ I strode forth to the second green.


I let her hole-out, then opened with; ‘All set to defend your title?’

‘You didn’t walk out all this way to talk sport.’ She replied, turning to face me.

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Then, after a momentary pause; ‘Cat Mackintosh is a sentimental old fool.’ A micro-expression of fear showed across her face. Ada was a good ten years older than me, I must be careful how I trod.

‘Can’t say I know him well.’

‘I, on the other hand, have known him since youth. A little old white van may look inconspicuous in a crowd of vehicles, but with a car cover thrown over it, in the car port of someone known for being a non-driver these days...’

‘And I’m a sucker for a sob story, that your point?’

‘Damn it Ada, you were there observing when uncle and I rubber stamped the additional clauses to your leases regarding the stables and the walled garden.’

‘Are you here to destroy my happiness, or are you angling for a deal?’

‘Oh! I still owe you, just not as much as before. Come on, let me buy you a stiffener. After all, we need you on top form, someone is bound to be betting on you.’


‘You, are impeding my schedule. And you’re giving the game away having both of us parked side by side in the car park.’ So declared Charlie, as I was boosting Ada's self-esteem at the bar.

‘I shall be gone in a jiffy; I have no desire to hear your golfing woes. However, when I spoke to Cat earlier it occurred to me, that the next membership committee is coming up, and that you might be the better person to urge him to make Archie's application his top priority.’

‘That’s true. Okay, but be gone!’


I was as good as my word, avoiding the Park for the duration of other peoples ‘marvellous mania’. On the quiet I liaised with Jack regarding Cat, and with Bernard regarding Barmy. According to Charlie recent rainfall patterns had been good for the Park, upping the quality of the grass and making everyone feel their game must surely be improving! But for me, it was water off a duck’s back. It wasn’t until our dance night was underway that life got interesting again. Whilst others were tweeting about the dancefloor performances of minor celebs, I was struck by the appearance of the family Gruber out on mass. All four of them, plus a young lad they appeared to have in tow, were dressed in serious nineteen twenties raiment. Melisa in particular, now sported the bob of a flapper!

Then I was distracted by the band’s vocalist taking up the challenge of; ‘Dapper Dan was a very handy man on the train that ran through Dixie, made the beds and everything, all you had do was ring...’

‘Take me away from all this Tony.’ I felt Daphne take my arm. I led her first to the bar, then out to the pond in the moonlight. ‘I feel shell-shocked by the last few weeks.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘First Daddy gone, then... I suppose you’ve always known?’

‘Known what?’

‘What league Barmy’s family were in?’

‘Yes, which is why I was anxious to get your affairs managed by my people at the old bank, and get Mel trained up a bit for the future. She has enterprise that one.’

‘You can say that again. The day after we got probate it was her eighteenth birthday. At the next meeting with your Mr Merriweather, and the other one, Brinkley, she told them she’d take the entire amount in the form of a cheque. I half expected her to have left home the following morning.’

‘Blame me for that, via Charlie. That cheque is her introductory letter to the man known throughout the county as “the banker”. He’s the man I said good evening to a moment ago in the bar. Mel will be, the nearest thing we see, to an heiress! Talking of which, why are you all so, seriously dressed-up, I know it’s always a themed evening, but nonetheless.’

‘Melisa’s birthday treat.’

‘Ah! Now, talking of treats, you’ll be pleased to know that Mel will not suddenly be appearing one day with a classic sports car from Jack’s garage. Let’s just say I have my own birthday treat in mind for her.’

‘Oh no! What?’

‘Now don’t panic. I am in the process of facilitating the ultimate in inconspicuous motoring. Bye the way, who’s the young lad with your party this evening?’

‘Goes by the name of Timothy, a hanger-on of Melisa’s from the college.’

‘Really, is he her love interest?’

‘God knows! She calls him her spare man. He just started following her around apparently, she told him, she didn’t mind as long as he made himself useful. Wants to get into the horticultural college.’

‘Oh, well. He could be of use to all of us then.’

Thursday, 31 October 2024

121: Wet weekend

‘I thought we were all meant to be taking a picnic.’ Said Charlie with an ironic tone as she stared out of the kitchen window at steady rainfall.

‘Not that you’ve made any preparations anyway.’

‘I ordered two packed lunches to be collected from the club en route.’

‘Of course. Still the forecast from my device is still saying sunshine and showers.’

‘Better make a move, it we’re to be at Ada’s in time for coffee. You’ll lock-up after me?’

‘Just hang on a sec whilst I find a bag to protect our copy of From Cattle Rustlers to Courtiers.’


We left the car at the club. The packed lunches and the book went in Charlie’s knapsack and we donned waterproofs from the boot. The soggy parkland shone bright green as the sky showed signs of clearing. ‘People are sleeping-out at Royal Oak now.’ Said Charlie.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, there are a couple of sun loungers on the patio, if you have a sleeping bag you’re allowed to sleep out, tents are allowed too, provided they come down before breakfast. The house is strictly no alcohol, no tobacco, no drugs, so the garden can be a sort of reception centre when need be.’

‘Excellent. Right then, time to watch and learn, as the master does his work once more.’

‘Very good, sir.’

Ada was opening the door as we walked up her path.


‘I must say that Mr Brinkley of yours is an odd fellow.’ Said Ada, as we settled with our drinks in the lounge.

‘Yes, people often say that, still the signing went off without a hitch?’

'Oh indeed, but I’m still not clear why I had to go through the whole charade of appearing to represent your trust, rather than the railway?’

‘Credibility, legitimacy. Both the owner and the local authority preferred to see such a listed property sold to a rich organisation with a track record in restoration. As yet, the preserved railway is neither.’

‘But there’ll be some advantage in it for Tony, you can be sure.’ Asserted Charlie.

‘Such cynicism in one so young! No, we will carry the cost of returning the building to what it once was, then pass it on to the new railway. Should they have difficulty raising the cash, perhaps we’ll take it in increased shares.’

‘See what I mean?’

‘Well, you look out for yourself Charlotte. You can imagine what board meetings here at the Park are like, Tony and his uncle slugging it out, me thinking am I the only voice of common sense.’

‘Actually, Charlie has the advantage there, uncle thinks the sun shines out of her whatever.’

‘Anyway, Brinkley kindly made me a copy of the sale documents.’ Said Ada, reaching over for a file. She handed me the uppermost sheet.

‘Ah! Yes. I concede, that is a very competitive price. I owe you Ada. How may I be of service? Cash in hand? Perhaps I should be thinking of paying your club fees and account again next year?’

‘Well, I must give that some thought. Today, I confess, I’m somewhat pre-occupied with how much those of us at the bungalows can appeal to the generosity of the Park company regarding the internal restoration of the walled garden.’

‘Charlie! The book, if you please.’


‘Of course one has to ask how reliable uncle’s research really was, he never saw it in its heyday?’

‘Here we go.’ Mumbled Charlie.

‘We can settle this simply by considering the practical needs of those who will use it.’ Said Ada. ‘No one, is asking for heating in the greenhouse, nor any more water than we can carry. Although there is one principal, I think we must adhere to. We mustn’t allow people to become possessive and divide the whole area up as if it were allotments, otherwise the advantages of the soil and the micro climate at different spots will be totally lost.’

‘Agreed. And so, the practical issues are?’

‘Age and disability. We don’t want to lose the essential character but, no one, not even your ground staff, want to be constantly weeding paths. Nor do any of us want to be worrying about going up and down steps all the time.’

‘Yes. A permanent gravel coloured surface to the paths would be okay, though I think the location of the paths must stay, also the staggered steps down the centre. Perhaps a wheelchair friendly perimeter path, with a gentle gradient would work.’

‘Right, well for the rest of it, we’d better join the others.’


I was assured by Ada that the half dozen or so other residents who turned-out were the keen gardeners, those, who given half a chance, would be out here every day. The finished brick work looked most impressive, especially the greenhouse with the addition of the metal lattice work which would hold the glass of the roof and support the remote winding devices for opening and closing. I was able to show everyone a manufacturer’s photo of the windows, installed elsewhere up country. People were kind enough to say that at least they didn’t look like plastic windows!

I hope I didn’t end up sounding too much like a politician. But the questions came thick and fast as we sat on the steps consuming lunch. Giving an affirmative yes to every suggestion would have bankrupted us. I kept looking across at Ada, hoping what I said was broadly in line with what she already knew to be the limits. The whole process was quite cognitively demanding.

‘When everything is done Tony, do you think your people would go over everything once with their rotary cultivator, taking out obvious rubble, before you hand things over?’

‘Sounds sense to me Ada.’

‘There is the question of seating?’ Said another.

‘Ah! Yes, I should tell you that we are hoping, once a design is approved, to put in an order for perhaps thirty or so traditional park bench style seats for throughout the Park. We’re already thinking of one for your bus stop, as well as one for the stop at the main carpark. Perhaps we should earmark a couple for here too. Although of course that shouldn’t prevent you supplying your own, if they prove less than ideal. Though I think we should draw the line at sun loungers!’ That drew a mild titter from my audience.

‘Well, if that’s all the questions we have, may I offer my collective thanks to Tony for his generosity on behalf of the Park company.’

‘Well, thank you Ada.’ It was her cue for us to bugger-off, so we did.


On the walk back to the car Charlie asked; ‘Did Ada stiff you over the purchase of the station that never had trains?’

‘Not in the least, she went above and beyond, the final sale price was well below budget. I’ll use her services again.’

‘But surely you should be handsomely rewarding her now, not be in her debt?’

‘Not even if she enjoys me owing her?’

‘I don't get it.’

‘Power, Charlie, power. After all, one never knows in what form she might wish to be paid.’

At which point I was saved from even greater explanation by the ping of her work phone; ‘Cat’s back.’

‘Ah! A chance for a bit of a catch up then.’

‘There’ll be no time for that. He and I wilI be full-time on Pro-Am golf for the next few weeks. Especially with Dance Night falling on the final day. We’re hoping celebs will stop over for that.’

‘Oh my God!’