82: Offers to treat

‘You haven’t asked what the agenda is today?’ I spoke.

‘I don’t need to.’ She replied.

‘Oh, yes?’

‘We, are taking a hike, to town.’

‘Oh lord, walk two miles around the hills to go half a mile as the crow flies.’

‘Wrong, I have a short cut, to get you to a haircut with Margot.’

‘Do we have to?’

‘Yes. I’ve lost control of your hair, it’s become lop-sided. Besides, we have other commissions too.’

‘Well, just don’t do this tomorrow, we have a long day’s negotiations at our HQ at the old bank.’

Sparkwell led me out via the tradesman’s entrance. We proceeded passed our new garage. ‘If all goes well tomorrow, Jack will get a down payment within hours and we will have secured the new car, hopefully the same colour, but I suppose the bumpers will look slightly different, like on the one we took to France.’

‘When I was sweeping out the inside, I had the thought it might make parking easier if we painted the interior white.’

‘But driver-assisted works perfectly well in the dark!’

‘But I like it switched-off, I told you it kept cutting-in when I was crashing around country lanes.’

‘I’ll concede it is inherently de-skilling. But I should warn you, once Jack has modified the new car, he will be doing computer upgrades on the old one.’

‘Right, we take a right here.’

Having descended on the town remarkably quickly, I got a five-minute rest whilst Margot performed her corrective procedures. Throughout she remained in instructor mode, they both seemed to find endless fascination in the crown of my head! Afterwards, Charlie apologised for not hanging around saying we were on a tight schedule and nudged me to pay and go. ‘What’s the urgency?’ I asked.

‘Edoardo will be leaving the workshop at twelve-thirty sharp.’

‘Yes, probably none of my business, but er... Why are we?’

‘I have the final items of my wardrobe to pick up, the formal wear.’

‘And you’re not talking about more uniforms, are you?’

‘No, formal wear. Well, it’s bound to happen. After all, you have various paraphernalia; even a complete morning suit, not to mention proper black bow ties, a couple of stiff collars, even a white mess jacket!’

‘You don’t have any particular event in mind?’

‘No.’

‘You, young lady, are getting ideas above your station!’

‘We’re all old friends and we trust each other.’ So said a beaming Bernard as Charlie was pouring out coffee. None of us seemed to have an answer to that, so his comment was left hanging in the air.

The silence was broken by Brinkley; ‘Our coffees always taste so much better when made by a proper barista.’

‘Why, thank you, Brinkley, though one shouldn’t underestimate the benefit of the china service, insisted upon by the late Mrs Hayward.’ She replied.

‘Oh, do sit down Ms Sparkwell, we’re all equals now. My point is, Tony, Lawrence and I are full voting board members of the Trust, Charlotte, you attend all meetings and get to vote on charity matters. You are also contracted by the Trust as are Lawrence and myself. The Trust owns this building, a large chunk of Crawford Park and much else besides.’

‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave.’ Offered Brinkley.

‘Please don’t interrupt Lawrence! All I’m saying is, can we for the purposes of this meeting all agree to hearing about the Mrs Tufnell and Captain Forsyth wills, Tony’s request for extraordinary funds, and, consequently, how one should approach this afternoon’s meeting of the trustees?’

‘Yes.’ I replied.

‘So, firstly, Tony, you have given me a copy of Mrs Tufnell’s bequests, now I don’t see how the matter pertains to anyone but yourself, unless and until you take possession of anything and subsequently care to gift it to the Trust. The situation with Captain Forsyth is potentially more complicated. You, Charlotte, will have executor’s rights until all disbursements are made. But anything turned into cash, will up the residue that is intended for our local homeless charity. However, possessions not specifically mentioned, could simply be gifted by you, to anyone. I suggested to the captain, that he specify how the yacht should be disposed of. He said he had hopes, given - in his words - it’s “historical uniqueness”, that it might go to the Maritime Historical Society. I have spoken to Thayer; he has links to the upmarket boat dwellers and the word has come back that the vessel might be expected to reach in excess of five million. Obviously, a real incentive for the homeless charity. My advice, get the captain’s intentions in writing, otherwise you will be left to decide, and you may feel a conflict of interest since you sit on the homeless committee. Questions?’

‘Yes, the reason I mentioned Mrs Tufnell, is that it will probably fall to me to take charge of her late husband’s papers, he had some sort of business relationship with my father, not as yet fully determined. I suppose there is the outside possibility of other occurrences, not unlike the Crimean gold.’

‘Good lord!’ Said Bernard.

‘Just a hunch you understand.’

‘You’re more than welcome to cross reference with anything in the Trust archive anytime.’ Added Brinkley.

‘I’ll talk to Captain Bob again,’ said Charlie, ‘but if he doesn’t act, then my priority would be to find the right home for the yacht, and if it involved a sale, then the cash goes to the shelter, end of story.’

‘Thank goodness Tony has no involvement, he’d instantly see a myriad of money-making opportunities in the situation! Which brings us neatly to your request for funds.’

Ignoring Bernard’s sarcasm, I pitched in; ‘Yes, we wish to avail ourselves of the opportunity to invest in our last new petrol car. The latest version of what we’ve got now. However, since it will be an appreciating asset, like the current one, we propose running the two cars, one each.’

‘Ah. Mmm.’ Said Bernard.

Then, after a pause, Brinkley smiled and said; ‘I did a while ago suggest to Charlotte that the existing car might be reassigned to her, in her role as Carer.’ Oh, Larry, I thought to myself, what a sweetie you are. ‘And of course, Tony could continue with the new car under existing arrangements.’

Bernard looked at Brinkley like a parent upon an innocent child. ‘You and Charlotte should form a pair at Bridge sometime, whilst Tony and I make for the poker room.’

Then, as I was thinking, no need to invoke special clauses or indeed make concessions at all, Brinkley replied; ‘It’s against your religion Bernard, as I’ve often had to remind you.’

‘Ah! Yes, now, how is the Church of England, gentlemen?’ I enquired.

‘Much as always, Lawrence still does the cathedral books from time to time.’

‘And what about you?’

‘Oh, very occasionally I may arbitrate over minor matters as Chancellor for the diocese.’

‘Oh my god!’ Said Charlie; ‘You’re the Grand Inquisitor! Defrocked any priests lately? Burnt any witches?’

‘The camera for each seat is voice activated Charlie, if you’re remote it’s just the usual boxes on the screen, but if you’re in the room, then from certain angles it gives the illusion of having a swivel head, that’s why it’s called an Owl.’

‘Ladies and gentlemen, if I may call this meeting to order, item one...’ To give Bernard his due, as chair he has a masterful command of the room, dovetailing perfectly with Brinkley as the humble secretary who only on very rare occasions needs to pass him a note, or indeed speak at all. Our other trustees were appearing remotely, one from Geneva where he was giving some sort of expert advice to one of the sprawling committees of the IPCC. The other, from his brutalist breeze block study in a university department whose reputation thankfully rose well above the architecture. Bernard chose his words with care; classic, vintage, historical, along with appreciating asset, low usage, minimum emissions etc.

‘So, that was your scheme, ha! The old boy network would give you the grand cathedral wedding you think you deserve.’

‘Only idle speculation really, just the way my mind works I’m afraid.’

‘Nice try sunbeam, nice try.’

81: The fall and rise

Good Friday found us at Checkley Manor as usual. ‘Does anyone remember the old-style fun fairs?’ I said to the kitchen table at large. ‘How they always had a shooting gallery, you could shoot down figures one at a time in a long line...’

‘And!’ Said Uncle.

‘Buffy’s happy few, his band of brothers are falling at an ever-increasing rate. And yet, new figures keep appearing as if by magic.’

‘Are you going to do anything about Tuffy’s attempt to blackball him from the club?’ Asked Charlie.

‘Ah, thank you for reminding me.’

Later, when alone in the grounds I put in a call to Cat. ‘Er, actually old man, Tuffy’s complaint is in the pending tray for the time being; fact is, Buffy’s membership is currently lapsed.’

‘Explain.’

‘Well, you know how membership renewal depends on the receipt of fees and the clearing of your account, well Buffy has stood a lot of bar bills in the last year, he’s been sent a reminder and all that, but he has slipped over the renewal date.’

‘I see. I think I might just drop a hint to Carrie.’

‘Might be as well, apparently, they’ll be at the cottage this weekend, bit embarrassing if she has to sign him in! Also, you might care to explain to Tuffy that under our rulebook you can only expel someone for behaviour whilst at the club, and that doesn’t include when the premises are being used for other purposes.’

‘Cat?’

‘Tony, old son.’

‘You couldn’t do me a quick favour, check bookings for the ballroom and if it’s free on Easter Monday, book it out to me for the whole day.’

‘Carrie!’

‘Ah, Tony. The voice of sanity.’

‘Bless you. Er, sorry to do this, bit embarrassing really...’

‘I doubt it, not when viewed from Downing Street.’

‘Yes, quite, the fact is, Buffy’s membership of the club has lapsed, failure to pay fees and settle his account.’

‘Shit! I told him, when I renewed. Hang on.’

For once she forgot to press mute; ‘I’m not bloody made of money! Tell him the cheque is in the post.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes!’

‘Will it bounce?’

Then, after a long pause; ‘Tony?’

‘Carrie.’

‘He says there is a cheque in the post.’

‘Tell him, if he plans on visiting, make it Monday, but you may have to sign him in if the money hasn’t arrived.’

‘Very well, and Tony, I haven’t forgotten you were the one who persuaded me to return to the blighter.’

‘Running out on us again!’ So said Uncle when I announced our intention of leaving a few hours early.

‘Well only by half a day.’

‘All the same, what progress in the vines?’

‘I’ve brought you up to date with the pruning and tying.’

‘And what moves in the woods Charlotte?’

‘Your new eastern European hiring is a lot further on with the charcoal burners, than he is with his comprehension of English!’

On arrival at the Park, I took a direct line to the office, there to commune with the club secretary. ‘The ballroom is all yours, the PM’s debts got paid by money transfer late Friday, from some unrecognisable company account at a bank on Grand Cayman, and the man himself is working the room, the lounge that is, at this very moment.’

‘Excellent!’ I replied, exiting immediately towards the veranda bar, that being the best vantage point from which to observe Buffy’s progress. Much to my surprise, I found Bernard and Brinkley propping up the bar, in the company of Henry Walpole no less. ‘I say, what ho, Walpole! You know it’s a complete waste of time touting for briefs from Bernard, he likes to do his own advocacy.’

‘You forget Anthony, I’ve been put out to grass, by my wife.’

‘Yes of course, must be a bit of a wrench at times. And the two of you, a rare sighting indeed.’

‘Well, we are semi-retired Tony, Lawrence and I are entitled to our occasional indulgences. And as Walpole was saying, it’s always worth taking a look at the locus in quo.’

‘Something my old pupil master used to say.’

‘You should be swapping old anecdotes about Sparkwell QC, Charlotte’s daddy. Bernard’s suffered at his hands too!’

‘What brings you here Tony?’ Asserted Bernard.

‘Oh, just on our way back from my uncle’s place.’

‘Here to keep an eye on our esteemed Prime Minister?’ Suggested Brinkley.

‘Yes, alright then. Talking of which, would you excuse me a moment?’

‘How are you Prime Minister?’

‘Ah! Anthony. Under savage pressure as it happens.’

‘Ah, yes. Playing the international statesman, the war leader in waiting. Must take it out of you, but goes down well with the voters no doubt.’

‘I trust you’re not here to gloat?’

‘By no means. Indeed, I’m here to offer you what I just know you will find an amusing diversion from the cost-of-living crisis.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘A short commemorative video of your previous visits.’

‘What!’ A micro expression of alarm crossed his face.

‘If you and Carrie would care to step this way, I’ve arranged a little private viewing in the ballroom.’

I whispered to Charlie, to ask her former handler come mentor from the security detail to lock us in, from the outside, and after a moment or two’s chat, he did!

‘What’s going on? Where’s my protection gone?’

‘I thought the four of us might appreciate a little privacy.’

The large screen worked remarkably well, despite the variable quality of the images in Carry-On Prime Minister. It also benefited from a little program I’d acquired for the removal of layers of ambient noise from audio recordings. Our little half hour movie featured sequences all the way from Buffy’s first landing on what was now the eighteenth green, to his post-run Haka!

When it finally came to an end there was a long silence before Buffy spoke; ‘Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is how to deliver a threat. Notice how he saves your blushes Charlie; you’re just simply portrayed as the innocent waitress. The editing is outrageous, talk about hashtag - context collapse!’ He then buried his face in his hands for about a count of ten, before asserting; ‘So, who apart from us has seen this?’

‘Only my co-producer Barmy, and my co-owner the Earl.’

‘You sure about that?’

‘Oh, yes. And of course, it can stay that way.’

‘I can burn you, as much as you can burn me.’

‘Well, no not really.’

‘What?’

‘All I have to do is send a copy of this to the media. You on the other hand have had two and a half years to fatten your dossier on me, and got nowhere.’

‘You can’t possibly know that.’

‘True, but what I can know with one hundred percent certainty, is that I never do anything, only the Trust does things, and it was entirely reconstituted before the summit. You, are up against a legal brick wall.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Full implementation of the Flotterton Manifesto.’

‘What?’

‘Everything outlined in Rory’s speech.’

‘I know what you bloody meant! That speech you wrote for him was pure fantasy.’

‘I didn’t write a word. I admit I was present when Rory, relaxing in the lounge after a massage from Charlie, came up with his ideas whilst staring deep into the log fire. Besides it doesn’t have to be practical. It merely has to inspire, create the right direction of travel. Oh, and one other small thing. A safe seat for Frimley Coates. After all, in fifteen years or so, he’d be your natural successor.’

‘Aren’t you forgetting something Tony?’ Chipped in Carrie; ‘All the other people who have him by the short and curly what’s it’s!’

‘Am I Buffy?’

There was another pregnant pause, filled only by Charlie asking innocently; ‘How did all this arch enemy stuff start anyway?’

‘It all goes back to the Scripture Knowledge Prize. I noticed just the other day that you’d claimed to have won it, again.’

‘But I did!’

‘Over the heads of better men, by the most brazen swindling methods, “breath-taking impertinence” - weren’t those the headmaster’s words?’

‘Something of the sort, can’t say I remember precisely.’

‘No, they say psychopaths don’t remember pain. But what I do remember was that the Head went on to give a speech bemoaning the passing of corporal punishment, and his inability to tenderise your arse.’

Then Buffy began to laugh. A moment later he said, smiling; ‘Anthony, you are a one-man walking nudge unit.’

‘Well thank you, you’re too kind, Prime Minister.’

‘I don’t buy it.’ So said Charlie as we were crossing the carpark.

‘Just as well, cos’ it ain’t for sale!’

‘What went down back there? You had him on the rocks, yet he walked away with a spring in his step.’

‘I showed him a way out, not just from me, but from everyone else gunning for him. It’s the game Charlie, the motivation is in the thrill of getting away with it.’

80: End of an era

‘So, what fun and frolics have we today, sir?’ So said Sparkwell as we emerged from our ablutions and she turned her attention to my raiment.

‘Is that my sole purpose in life now, to keep you amused? Well, after breakfast and the post naturally, you get to inspect progress with the building work at the spa, and if I can persuade the architect to dally awhile, you may hear of my plans for the old stable block and walled garden.’

‘But I thought that was all off, due to a lack of water?’

‘Your ever innovative employer, let me tell you, has come up with alternative arrangements.’

‘Another solicitor’s letter, sir.’

‘Good lord, from Periwinkle and Blythe no less, Bernard’s leading competitor. The only thing I know about them was that the late, great, Mr. Tufnell senior used them.’ The room fell silent. ‘Well, I’ll be damned; “We have been asked to forward attached copy of Mrs. Mary Tufnell’s new last will and…etcetera.” Gosh, this could be trouble.’

‘Coffee in the kitchen, in five?’

‘Thanks Charlie.’

‘You’re going to share it with me, is that wise?’

‘Oh, I think so, given Tuffy’s tendency to turn to either or both of us, when he’s stressed or confused. Yes, a briefing is definitely in order.’ I took a gulp of black coffee, wondering where to start. ‘Well, the simple bit is she’s left the house and any cash to her son, as one might expect. The tricky bit is that her household furniture, goods and personal possessions she leaves jointly to Tuffy and myself, to be divided as we see fit.’

‘And that’s likely to cause trouble?’

‘Well, yes and no. Firstly I doubt Tuffy knows what I would value, not necessarily all of great monetary worth, but some of it certainly is.’

‘Like the seascapes. I imagine, the Lady Vic will have something to say about that!’

‘Quite, but they’re just the tip of the iceberg, Tuffy is remarkably ignorant about everything in that house, Victoria probably knows more by now.’

‘Seems to me you should ally your self with her, work through her, to get what you want. Tuffy as a go-between would just confuse the issue.’

‘I mean, a lot of this is Mrs Tufnell being nervous about what happens to her late husband’s valuables, I’m the only person she can trust to make sure they end-up going to people who would value them. Bit like you and Captain Bob.’

‘Well, work on Victoria, that’s my advice. By the way, apparently when Bob was talking to Bernard, he said, Bernard that is, if I had any doubts about my role in proceedings I should come in and talk to him.’

‘Have you seen the final signed document yet?’

‘No. Bob just said he insisted to Bernard, that I should have the final say. Bob’s halfway to the Falklands now, god knows when I’ll hear.’

‘Worry not, the islands are fully wired-up these days. Every retailer even has a free portable chip and pin machine, they can now refuse cash payments in any currency - much to the relief of the Port Stanley bank apparently.’

It was one of those days when Charlotte assumes the subservient role, indicated by her following one step behind, rather than being alongside or one step in front. Having plied the architect with coffee at the bar, we then proceeded to the garden and listened to his explanation of foundations, damp courses and sympathetic stone work. Whilst he spoke, we stared at new walls rising and looked into an abyss we were assured would be the aquatherapy pool. Once he had come to an explanatory halt, I chipped in with; ‘We may have a further project proposal for you, if you could spare another twenty minutes or so.’

A five-minute hike took us to the old stable block. ‘Given the estates limited water resources I’ve abandoned previous plans for more residential development. However, you’ll have noticed that the bungalows lack garages and a number of their back gardens, porches and conservatories are cluttered with various mobility aids, both manual and motorised. What I propose is that the tarmac is continued as far as here and the entrance to the walled garden, therefore passing the back gardens; they, all get free wooden fencing with back gates and we, restore and convert the stables into a series of car ports.’ Our architect friend extracted a pen knife from his back pocket and began sampling the state of the mortar between the brickwork. I continued with; ‘Obviously the woodwork of the roof would need to be preserved or replaced but the rotting wood of individual doors and internal partitions could be constituted firewood. One area needs reconstituting as a garage for a minibus, with a discrete, independent petrol or diesel supply. The ironwork entrance of the walled garden needs replacing with a key code lock attached, but could be replicated in design with a matching pair for the stables. The walled garden can be offered as a private flower garden and allotments, for the bungalow residents only...’

Then Charlie cut in; ‘There’s a familiar profile approaching from the direction of the house, sir.’

I turned, the figure’s gait was unmistakable; ‘Familiar indeed, the lesser spotted.’

‘Tony!’

‘Tuffy.’

‘Explain! Because I’m damned if I can see it. I think mother has gone a bit fay. It is rather grating for a chap you know.’

‘Well, it is everyone’s prerogative, to leave as they please, the thing is, you do understand your mother and father were, well, the closest I got to a mother and father for many years...’

‘I know old man, but all the same.’

‘And I was interested in all the things your father did, which you weren’t - if you see what I mean. Now, be honest Tuffy.’

‘Well...’

‘Take your father’s study for example, have you ever worked through it? Would you understand it if you did? Would you recognise items of value? And needless to say, my offer on the seascapes still stands.’ Tuffy stared into space as if he’d suddenly realised, he had no idea where he was. ‘Anyway, you didn’t hike out all this way just to look for a row, did you?’

‘No. There’s something more urgent. I’ve submitted a formal complaint to the membership committee.’

‘What on earth about?’

‘To get Trumpton chucked out of course. It’s official now, he’s a liar and a cad.’

‘Well? What’s that got to do with me?’

‘We need your backing of course.’

‘Who is this, “we”?’

‘All of the right-thinking element, who do you think? You have the evidence to sink him.’

‘Do I?’

‘On camera!’

‘Tuffy, I hate to tell you, but that’s evidence to sink practically all of us!’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well on lockdown rules alone, you were pissed and hardly socially distanced at the reunion in May, if I recall.’

‘But we’d been tested, and jabbed, and exempted by the government.’

‘But that’s rather what Buffy is claiming, isn’t it? Our behaviour may be morally reprehensible but...’

‘I was going to ask you to go before the committee, but as usual I can’t tell who’s side, you’re really on!’

‘Tuffy?’ Charlotte interrupted; ‘Will you walk me back to the house? It’s such a long time since we’ve had a chat.’

Say what you like about her, but she can time an intervention to the split second. As they started to wander off, she took his arm, as any close confidant might. ‘Isn’t she a cracker?’ I said, to no one in particular, then turning back to the friendly architect; ‘Sorry about the interruption, now where were we? Ah, yes, the road side trench that carries the electric will naturally need to be extended from the last bungalow to here and the walled garden, but I’d like it opened up again as far as the house, so the fibre optics can come as far as the minibus garage...’

79: Things fall apart

I date the end of the pandemic from that morning. Looking up from my screen, I spied Sparkwell through the media room window leading her ladies in outdoor yoga practice on the common lawn affronting the avenue.

Later she appeared before me, slightly perspiring and with a glint in her eye. ‘Namaste’ I said, bringing my hands together towards my chest and giving a slight nod of the head.

‘Fuck, and off, sir. I, have just made, a major breakthrough.’

‘Your first group teaching session turned out a success; I knew it would be.’

‘Not only that. I have set in motion a train of events which I feel confident will lead to the resolution of the two-car problem.’

‘Good lord!’

‘One of my students is the lady at number seven. She may be willing to swap garages.’

‘But that won’t help, we need two!’

‘No, we don’t.’

‘How come?’

‘What you have failed to take account of Holmes, is that the mews is a series of ad hoc conversions, built on a curve, some garages are considerably longer than others.’

‘Ah-ha! Well spotted Watson.’

‘My quarry, and her husband, recently exchanged their grand saloon for a family hatchback, no larger than our two-seater, she is convinced their unit would take two, end to end. I have a viewing tomorrow.’

‘Charlie, you’re a wonder. Take the rest of the day-off.’

‘Ha! The ultimate empty gesture.’

‘Well, go read The Beacon then.’

‘I might just.’

At about eleven o’clock I drifted downstairs to the kitchen in search of coffee and my daily shot of caffeine. ‘What’s going on?’ Exclaimed Charlie.

‘How do you mean?’

‘You always know. You knew there was new, News.’

‘Well, er...’

‘I mean their whole tone has changed. Are they gunning for Buffy now?’

‘Perhaps getting ready to ditch him, if they really have to.’

‘And the whole thing is full of adverts for the Don’s new podcast come radio show come tv chat show thingy.’

‘Yes, I fail to see the visual appeal myself, the close-up camera merely exaggerates his existing camp tendencies.’

‘Women readers like him.’

‘Yes, I suppose so, the anti-authoritarian Aussie with a glint in the eye. Perhaps one day he’ll want you as a guest, you could broadcast live from the treatment room.’

‘Is Buffy really in deep doo-doo then?’

‘Well, timing is everything. As fear ends, so anger rises. You know, it’s when conditions start to improve, that revolutions traditionally happen. And perhaps the opposition think they have a limited window of opportunity.’

‘How come?’

‘Well, there are also lots of post-pandemic recovery goodies that may be just over the horizon. Coffee is ready then?’

‘Help yourself.’ And after a two mouthful pause, she asserted; ‘Well since I have the rest of the day-off, you can buy me a proper lunch at the Park, I’ll bring the car round.’

‘So, if this is to count as our hot meal of the day, I imagine you have cold snacks available for a supper at home this evening?’ I speculated aloud as we sat opposite each other in the club dining area awaiting our grub.

‘No. You gave me the day-off before I had a chance to go shopping, I’ve asked Steppings, to ask the kitchen, to knock-up a couple of packed lunches that can serve as supper.’

‘Also charged to my account no doubt?’

‘Naturally. We also need to be home by four, if Kenneth is going to get a decent tea break.’

‘Understood.’ Then my mobile pinged. ‘Someone else wanting a piece of me. Ah-ha, our man Jack is proposing to take an Awayday tomorrow to Birmingham to look at the remains of minibuses, wants permission to do deals and pay deposits if everything looks good.’

‘How much?’

‘Not how much, but what? I’ve offered him an architect’s drawing of a viable filling station electric forecourt extension.’

‘How innocent of me, to think that any cash might be changing hands.’ A sudden look of apprehension came over her face as she spoke, I concluded I must prepare for an assault from the rear.

‘We want a word with you two!’ So said the unmistakable Prudence.

‘Better draw up a couple of chairs then.’ She looked angry; Rory merely glum.

‘Everything is going wrong and it’s all your fault.’ So said our MP’s wife.

‘How so?’

‘The party is in chaos; in case you hadn’t noticed. Rory must decide which way to jump.’

‘But you’re a Buffy loyalist!’ I said, turning towards the aforementioned.

‘The PM may have broken all sorts of rules. My committee is uncovering all kinds of shenanigans.’

‘So?’

‘I don’t want to lose my bloody seat do I!’

‘You may have to.’

‘Why?’

‘You two really haven’t thought this through. You have no choice but to stick to Buffy like a limpet.’

‘Explain.’ Said Prudence.

‘Buffy will most likely get his mojo back and carry on to even greater victories, however, if by some quirk of fate, he fails, have you given thought to what he’ll do next?’

‘How is that relevant?’

‘Oh, dear. If Buffy fails, no matter how great his successor, you lose old boy. Look, let me spell it out, Buffy has no money of his own, his finances have always been chaotic, if he resigns, he’ll likely be holing-up at Carrie’s cottage and hanging around here all day. And everyone will know he lives in the very constituency which hosted his greatest triumph, or failure - depending on your point of view...’

‘Oh, my god. We’re stuck with him for ever!’ Cried Prudence.

As we drove back to the house Charlie said; ‘You can’t really know if any of your imaginings about the future will come true.’

‘No, but it’s better that Prue and Rory at least start thinking ahead, no good just hoping things will carry on as they were before.’

‘Besides, I bet you could remove Buffy from future involvement at the Park if you really wanted to.’

‘So, guess why I choose not to?’

‘There’s money to be made.’

‘Got it in one.’

Kenneth looked a trifle damp and care worn as we came through the back gate. He was leaning on a spade at the same time as extracting a bamboo cane from one of the cold frames, which turned out to be about three feet long. He grasped the bottom of it with the palm of his free hand. ‘Tea in five minutes, Ken!’ So said Charlie in a cheery voice.

‘Ah, you are kindness itself, my dear.’

Ten minutes later and we were all beginning to warm through.

‘Does the garden have any kind of gradient Kenneth?’

‘I think it must do, very slightly sloping away towards the back wall, the ground is damper there at depth, despite getting more sunlight. All the more reason to make all veg planting on raised beds.’

‘And the temperature below ground in the cold frames?’

‘All is as it should be in the garden.’ He replied looking vaguely into space. The three of us just sat there awhile in silence, me wondering what might be inside the two paper bags with handles that Charlie had casually placed on the kitchen table aside the tea pot. ‘It’s not the planet that’s in crisis, but the human race.’

‘Well,’ I said, raising my mug, ‘we can all drink to that, cheers!’

78: Return of the bookworms

‘What time will Kenneth need to be let in to the Villa?’ I groaned over Boxing Day breakfast at Checkley Manor.

‘I said we would return by noon.’

‘Okay, and your solution to the catering?’

‘It’s all been chilling in the boot of the car since early Christmas Eve. I attempted to absolve myself of all responsibility by going to the posh supermarket and trying to adopt the mind-set of your late Aunt Elisabeth, sir. All charged to the housekeeping card I’m afraid.’

‘Your forgiven.’

‘Take advice from one who has knocked around the world a bit, no good ever comes from staying up until all hours.’ So pronounced Kenneth, when he saw the condition, we were both in.

‘Yes, I don’t mean to pry, but where in the world have you knocked about?’

‘Got as far as Singapore once.’

‘Fascinating.’

‘So, where do we start?’

‘You and I collect two of the old dining chairs from Charlotte’s lair, then we leg it to the top floor, to collect the other four.’

It was as we were coming downstairs that Kenneth paused to admire the garden; ‘You know, apart from going to the bathroom, I was never aloud above stairs during your aunt’s reign, never really had the chance to stand and stare.’

‘I say, that was a bit fierce. Still, you must have lingered surely?’

‘Oh, no. That would never do. Rules were made to be obeyed; however ridiculous they may seem.’

‘Come along in, l must apologise in advance for the seating arrangements.’ I was playing the doorman, Charlie was hiding in the kitchen, whilst Kenneth put the final touches to the reception room. I repeated my mantra of abject inadequacy four times in all. However, upon entering the venue, the distinguished portrait engendered almost universal, positive acclaim. When everyone had settled, I said; ‘So Kenneth, the floor is yours.’

‘Thank you, Anthony. And thank you for allowing me to host, productive though the garden is, we all need something for the long winter evenings. Anthony has agreed to sit-in, I know my book choice is one of his favourites too. Wonderful to see you all, despite the inevitable changes to this room, I do believe Elisabeth’s spirit is to be found throughout the house and garden. Regarding our woes of the last couple of years, I just want to say, friendships must be kept up. Now then, my choice. John Buchan’s, The Thirty-nine Steps, is perhaps our first real thriller, the first British spy novel as we understand them, rather than a novel with spies, if you see what I mean. And a different sort of writing from the procedural crime novel. Written over a century ago and quite un-controversial until the nineteen seventies. Deeply unfashionable now though, for reasons I don’t fully comprehend, it has been a favourite all my life. I’ll say no more for the moment, but take some of your reactions.’

‘I was surprised,’ said the lady who used to work at the library; ‘I’ve seen the movies, the book was nothing like any of them!’

‘Four film versions, and not one of them made a serious attempt to follow the plot.’ I chipped in.

‘There you go, I knew you’d prove useful to have around Anthony.’

‘I read the book as a child,’ said another, ‘I never realised how modern it is, all about psychology and hiding in plain sight. Rather than deal with that, the moviemakers go for the “master of disguise” thing.’

‘They don’t confront the problems of the hunter and the hunted either, just lay on more stunts.’ Said a third.

‘How did you first come upon the book Anthony? You’re the youngest here!’

‘Er, wet lunchtimes at school, spent in the library. I consumed all five of the books in the series in the end. I rather took them all at face value. I saw the films of the first book and was greatly disappointed. I soon learnt I wasn’t meant to like the books. I also learnt to be on the lookout for terms like “abridged” and “unabridged”. Over the years I confess to becoming rather angry at accusations of anti-Semitism, of critics saying the male friendship was really homosexuality, that the books must be bad or racist because they were pro-empire. But to me, he caught my imagination with his realism, strange as that might seem, no one wrote better about being outside, on one’s own in a landscape. The narrator, stroke hero, if you will, is great at observation of the physical world and then greatly shocked to discover that the ability to hide in a physical landscape is so undermined by the invention of aircraft. He’s also very aware of how you can convince others by playing a part, of truly acting a role. But then suddenly all that is undermined as well, when he realises his own blind spots. The things he takes for granted. The enemy is succeeding, not by disguise, but by fitting-in with the social landscape, by playing the ordinary Englishmen.’

I was just wondering how long I should go on for, when the door suddenly flew open, there was a rattle of china, and Sparkwell appeared, appropriately uniformed, propelling the aunt’s old tea trolley before her; ‘Your comestibles, ladies and gentlemen.’

‘Oh, I say! You have done us proud Charlie!’ Exclaimed Kenneth.

‘Cucumber sandwiches and ham sandwiches, followed by Black Forest gateaux and English trifle with custard and whipped cream. Whose first for tea?’

‘I think I’m going to die of nostalgia.’ I gasped.

Proceedings, having ground to a halt for a good twenty minutes, got underway again when Kenneth turned and declared; ‘The accusation of anti-Semitism was something of a red herring, I’m sure you’d agree Anthony?’

‘Oh, absolutely. Only really sustainable if you don’t get beyond the first half dozen pages. As you’ll all now, know, an American character, who gets killed a couple of pages later, tells a story alleging the involvement of Jewish financiers in a conspiracy, the narrator is sceptical at the time, later the story is revealed to be complete nonsense. But is was a realistic view to give to a character at that time, the particular conspiracy theory existed in this country, and you could find anti-Jewish feeling throughout Europe and North America. So too, people’s real understanding of male friendship, companionship in arms in wartime. It’s been well said, soldiers don’t fight for their country or their generals, but to protect the men around them.’

‘A better accusation would be to say he was anti-homosexual, but then so were most straight people at the time. Do we think he was racist too?’

‘There is a kind of assumed superiority, Africans are routinely called negro, occasionally the other “n-word” is used by someone, it’s rather taken for granted that the empire is a good thing. All of which is an accurate reflection of society at the time.’

‘But what about real life attitudes to the Germans? And what of spies?’ Someone said.  

‘Of course, the novel,’ asserted Kenneth, ‘written in nineteen fourteen after the outbreak of war, and published the following year, has a context; MI6 was only created in nineteen hundred and nine, and the Official Secrets Act was greatly strengthened in nineteen eleven. Anti-German feeling, stoked by the popular press, had only come to the fore, when people realised the size of their navy, and that Britannia might be threatened at sea. But spy mania was rife, yet throughout the war only a handful of German spies were identified, something else Buchan got right.’

‘What a mine of information you are Kenneth.’ I responded.

How long the back and forth might have continued, who knows? But at this point Charlie reappeared and began clearing away tea. She whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear; ‘Hurrah, for Harry, England and St. George!’ From then on, the conversation, as it always did, drifted towards gossip and the state of the world today.

After they were all gone, Charlotte asked; ‘What do we do now?’

‘Clear up. Get back to the proper business of the day.’

‘Which is?’

‘Discovering the true nature of the taste buds of the dining committee, of course!’

End of season six.

77: Christmas and the blind tasting

As we drove towards the Park, on what might well prove a long Christmas Eve, Charlie was attempting to get her ducks in a row; ‘I realise how it works now.’

‘How what works?’

‘The Park, the club, the whole thing. You have what seems a modest role as chair of the dining committee, but when you add-on your various placemen, Cat on the membership committee, Barmy on finance, me at the spa. Then realise that all the action happens in the food and drink areas.’

‘But life is not made up of active or conscious conspiracies. For a start, people can’t keep secrets.’

‘What I still don’t understand is...’

‘As the innocent bystander said to the great detective!’

‘Just what do you hope to resolve with this blind tasting, if they can’t agree about what to order, this will just confirm that. What does it actually resolve?’

‘A little learning is a dangerous thing, as the poet said. Their problem, I suspect, is over confidence, they think they know wine.’

‘Oh, right. The novice knows he doesn’t know, so does the genuine expert, but the blokes in between.’

‘Right, and were a Master of Wine to walk into the room and tell everyone that quality is all a matter of personal taste, just order variety, they’d be disappointed and inclined to object. This test is the best I can do, to demonstrate they don’t know their own minds.’

‘Gentlemen, let me remind you of why we are all gathered here today. We are, alas, in dispute over what to reorder, so be it. We will proceed blind, in the scientific manner, and accept the biases of our own responses. Charlie, aided and abetted by bar steward Steppings here, has laid out the five most popular bottles from the cellar and the four we’ve bought in over the last twelve mouths, all have their labels covered and with a number assigned, each has a scale of approval on your answer sheets with optional comments section. All bottles were brought up yesterday so are at room temperature, the true measure of a wine. The spittoon is located in our special “expectoration corner” over there. Do not, I repeat do not swallow. Examine first the colour against the white table cloth or shirt cuff, inhale deeply the bouquet, taste, spit, pause and consider any aftertaste. Write it all down. Pencils with rubbers on their ends, are provided. All will be anonymous. Proceed gentleman.’ It was if I’d fired the starting pistol at the school sports. I began to circle the table, determined to exert a firm hand. ‘We are of course all, merely gentlemen, women have been scientifically tested and found to have a more sensitive sense of smell and taste. Slowly Tuffy, take your time.’

‘Remind me Tony, what are we looking for?’ Said someone.

‘Look at the depth of colour at the edge, a browning or rust like hue in a red is a reliable test of age, a more golden appearance in the whites.’

‘I’m getting a suggestion of autumn leaves.’ Said another.

‘With smell we’re looking for a remembrance of fruit, the distinct blackcurrant essence of a classic Bordeaux Red for example. Beware of nutty smells or tastes, suggestive of lower quality.’

There was much fevered activity for about fifteen minutes. Then they began to hesitate, amend their answers, and slowly come to a halt. I started collecting the paperwork before too many changed their minds or worse, realised they may have contradicted their previous publicly-stated preferences; ‘I’ll crunch these numbers over the holidays, the results will be posted on the notice board in the new year. Now, let us proceed to lunch.’

‘I think, that may be the most disgusting sight I’ve been forced to witness in a long time.’ Said Charlie as we moved to the dining area.

‘No one knows how to spit anymore.’

The first person we encountered was Julia; ‘Your Uncle has asked me to tell you, not to take offence at anything he says in his speech.’

‘Oh, righty ho!’

As in previous years, the Christmas lunch was principally a thank you, during which we observed the military tradition of officers serving other ranks. In our case, officials entertaining the paid staff. The climax was the Earl’s speech.

‘Once again it falls upon me to say a few words about the last twelve months. A year ago, my message had to be a digital one. Now, whilst the rest of the world wrestles with a new normal, we can proudly boast a return to, normal! Much of this has only been possible due to the efforts of my nephew Anthony in securing the summit meeting in the early summer, boosting our coffers whilst others were shut down. Equally, the ability to enjoy the club digitally has been much appreciated by all. At this very moment, members unable to attend in person, are able to watch me via the new security cameras we’ve all seen being installed. I also understand, that a virtual walk in the park, is currently in development. Our future plans also include an extension of the spa and the possible provision of a courtesy bus service between here and town. But however, a word of caution.’ Uncle hesitated slightly, I braced myself for whatever barbed comments might follow. ‘We live, alas, in an increasingly surveillance society. Remarkably, so far, this is not the imagined Orwellian nightmare, but we have each voluntarily agreed to carry upon our persons, the most sophisticated surveillance device ever conceived. Now it seems the geeks and nerds of the Web, rule. Anthony, I know is one of them. And he is, despite the restraining influence of Charlotte, somewhat prone at times to, overenthusiasm. Now I don’t know how many copies of Carry-On Prime Minister actually exist, a thirty-minute video of highlights from the Park’s security footage, covering the various visits of Buffy Trumpton - I think my favourite moment is his shadow-fencing using the antique toasting fork during the summit. However; I trust the only copies are those lodged in the hard drives of our and Anthony’s computers. But nonetheless, let us never forget, the Queen in parliament is sovereign. A loyal toast then, to Her Majesty and the late Duke, may he rest in peace.’

I was feeling less than one hundred per cent, as Charlie drove us through the winter evening towards Checkley and another Christmas lunch in less than twenty-four hours. ‘You look a little pensive, is there anything to be worried about?’ She asked.

‘No, not really. Interesting solution to his problem.’

‘But it was no mistake, you backing it up to their machines?’

‘Yes. Legitimately acquired security footage, property of the Park and the club. Those who may be concerned, can now consider themselves informed, especially since his annual speech will remain archived within the club portal. But he was covering his own back.’

‘How so?’

‘Wait and see.’

Uncle and Julia could only have arrived home about thirty minutes before us, but we found them, relaxing in the library. ‘Merry Christmas, one and all,’ began Uncle, before outlining the annual delights he had in store for us. ‘However, this year we have an additional, special treat, something to fill the gap tomorrow between the Queen and the cake!’ What fresh hell is this I thought to myself? ‘I shall be hosting a wine tasting.’ Oh my god. ‘A chance to compare our own two thousand and eighteen, with the nineteen and the twenty. What do you think of that?’

‘I trust there will be an expectoration corner?’

‘Very well, if you think you’ll need one, let’s say the sink in the old pantry, tomorrow, three-thirty sharp.’

‘What did you think of my solution to your home movie problem?’

‘Covering your back by putting it in the public domain - just!’

‘Absolutely. I felt a slight unease when I viewed it first, couldn’t work out why for a while, then I realised it wasn’t our footage that was the problem. It struck me the aerial footage was remarkably good and could not have been obtained through normal media.’

‘Then you realised it was also the solution, if all those responsible were also club members.’

‘Quiet so. Brandy?’

‘No, no.’

‘You know Charlotte is quite sceptical about all your talk of Buffy being your arch enemy, she sees you cooperating with him, and wonders what all the fuss is about.’

‘That is because it is a mad situation, as in M.A.D, mutually assured destruction. We each have enough on the other, to guarantee that we both work together to avoid both of us going down with the ship.’

‘It’s your expert opinion we require Tony.’ So pronounced Uncle as we contemplated the bottles under question; ‘What to drink, and when?’

The room fell silent. I took the situation as seriously as I could, tasting all three in turn, then a second time. ‘I have no doubt your wine making gets better over time, but alas that’s not the point. You have a unique terroir. However, conditions vary from year to year. The two thousand and nineteen is the best and will improve, it should be set aside and left. The two thousand and twenty is okay, will improve slightly, okay to serve to impressionable guests. The two thousand and eighteen however, should be drunk now, it won’t improve, indeed I should move it to the coolest part of the cellar and store the bottles upright, in time this carbonisation will increase and it may pop it’s corks.’

76: Fossil fuel Jack

‘Electric classics! Better fuel economy, electric conversions.’ Charlie was reading aloud the signs that now featured on Jack’s revamped forecourt.

‘It’s a front.’ I replied.

‘It’s an outrageous affront, you mean.’

‘I say that’s rather good. He’s just keeping up with the times, being seen to be Green. Much like Buffy Trumpton, with his hosting of this year’s climate conference, keeping one foot ahead of the opposition.’

‘How come? There aren’t going to be any electric classics, it’s a contradiction in terms.’

‘Absolutely. But it hasn’t stopped them trying, though I doubt he’ll sell any. Right now, they’re the most environmentally dirty and uneconomic cars there are. Even an electric hatchback has to be on the road for ten years before it has less of a footprint than its petrol equivalent. That’s the manufacturing process for you, let alone disposal.’

‘Why are we here?’

‘Ah, for a general chin-wag with Jack about our future motoring requirements.’

‘Thinking of buying a new car?’

‘When to buy, our last new petrol car!’

‘I’m rather attached to the one we’ve got.’

‘Well so am I, it’s just a question of whether we need what we’ve got, plus? Whether one could attach what we might need to what we’ve got, or need to start again.’

‘What more could we need?’

I avoided having to answer that question as Jack could be seen coming out from the showroom; ‘You two don’t look convinced by our new exterior.’

‘It’s not us you need to convince.’ I replied.

‘This coffee is, truly diabolical Jack.’ Opined Charlie.

‘Oh, thank you very much, it’s what I provide free to my crew, we sell it for one pound twenty, per hundred grams, at the filling station.’

‘Gut rot. Surely, as favoured customers we deserve better!’

‘No, no, darling. You’re the privileged ones. You get everything at cost. It’s only the punters I’m going to stiff, who get the posh stuff. Talking of which, you have a friendly firm of architects, don’t you Tony?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I’ve been wondering about how to stay ahead of things at the filling station. Been a load of chat about rapid charging recently. As you know I own the field next door. Been thinking about a sort of modest cafe - eat whilst you recharge, that sort of thing.’

‘Yes, there must be a punning name in there somewhere, something about recharging your batteries. Anyhow, if I may be allowed to call this meeting to order, when is it a good time to buy our last new car, so to speak?’

‘Now, as it happens.’

‘Really?’

‘The future is very uncertain. For example, right now, the factory has about twenty, right-hand drive versions of what you took to France. And that’s it. No more until fresh supplies of chips get to the contractor who produces the computers. And there are other bottlenecks to come. The price will rise, it might even pay you, to get me to garage it for you in the interim.’

‘The interim?’

‘Until you get a second, or double garage for yourself.’

‘Two cars?’

‘Well, registered as one each, but yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Because they would both be appreciating assets. You should also pay me to acquire petrol engine spares to put in the store, for the same reason.’

‘I see, I think.’

‘It’s not like the situation with your junior officer. As I was trying to explain to him the other day, if he is serious about the old Triumph, he’d have to do all the legwork himself. Given the age of the vehicle. You know, join the member’s club, spend his Sundays going around meets and things, acquiring spares wherever he can find them. Not a service I can afford to provide.’

‘Have you met his new lady companion?’

‘Yes, she seemed very enthusiastic on his behalf! I understand you all went on a jolly.’

‘Ah! Now, yes, I knew there was something else.’

‘Yes?’

‘Are there such things as vintage minibuses?’

‘Sure, quite a few as a matter of fact, the question is though, who would want to collect any of them?’

‘Alright. What I meant was, are there any classic designs?’

‘Well, not to look at. Reliability wise, I guess so. There were the bay line minibuses from the late eighties onwards, Ford Transits or Dafs but with a proper bus body, made by a Birmingham company if I recall. High ceiling, automatic doors. Remember them?’

‘Oh, yes. Of course.’

‘Not much to look at, but without the advertising, could be made to look classier with two tone pastel colours, clever lining. Proper burgundy rather than red, and cream rather than white.’

‘You’re ahead of me on this, aren’t you?’ I smiled.

‘Well, with your club so far out of the way, and your lot do like to get pissed a little. I’d say a, three-times daily, courtesy bus service, to and from town, would go down a treat. Look very Green.’

‘What would you think Charlie?’ I asked.

‘You’d do us chauffeurs out of a job!’

‘Do a bit of research if you would Jack, whilst we decide about cars.’

Before she drove away, I found Charlie an online view of one of the said minibuses; ‘Oh, right. I remember them, they lasted for years.’

‘We could keep it at the stable block, bus stops at the bungalows and main carpark...’

But her mind was elsewhere; ‘Would getting a second garage, really be realistic?’

‘I don’t know, do you get the sense that any of the other garages are being under used?’

‘Not sure, Bernard might know.’

‘That’s true.’

‘Would you do that, give me one of the cars?’

‘Ah, small technical problem.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘Well, what Jack is suggesting would involve an outlay of over fifty thousand, for our own personal, fossil fuel, use. We’ve just changed the family trust into an overwhelmingly Green, charitable trust. Have we not?’

‘Oh, no!’

‘I’m afraid so. The trust owns this vehicle, that’s another fifty grand. It could only work if the trust owned both, and both for business purposes. But how one gets that past the trustees?’

‘But there is a way, though. I know there is, by the way you are talking. A way of getting a load of dosh for one of your projects. Despite my good intentions, I know you wouldn’t have sacrificed everything just to please me.’

I left a long silence; ‘It would involve a vote, to invoke certain obscure clauses, requiring myself, Bernard and Brinkley to vote the same way. And then another vote on the purchase itself. And of course, the two of them, would undoubtedly have their price.’

‘Cash!’

‘No, no. Conditions, insisting certain things were done their way. It will all require a lot of thinking through.’

‘What are our Christmas arrangements going to be?’

‘Well, working backwards, we need to be back home from Checkley Manor on Boxing Day in time to let Kenneth in, and for you and he, to lay on the Book Club tea. You’ll need to decide what culinary delights you’re prepared to tolerate, ahead of time, as it were.’

‘Oh, lord.’

‘Before that, I think it might be a courtesy to Julia, to turn up at a reasonable time, in a reasonable state, on Christmas Eve.’

‘Well, that’s alright, I won’t booze much at the club Christmas lunch.’

‘There might just be one little local difficulty though.’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘The dining committee has decided in its wisdom to hold a blind tasting before the lunch.’

‘Of what?’

‘The best of the Park cellar, plus the stuff we’ve been buying-in this year.’

‘But why a blind tasting?’

‘Well, we couldn’t agree about what to stock for the next twelve months! Luckily, I’ll be the one devising the rules.’