‘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!’
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