Tableland (8 page)

Raging headache this morning. Took two aspirin and felt little better after cup of strong black coffee. Attended church in nearby village for morning service. Apparently the Price-Potters also worship there but did not see them this morning.

A stirring sermon taking the theme “Love thy neighbour” was delivered by vicar suffering from bad catarrh. Was earnestly resolving to make a friendly approach to the Butts – even thinking about inviting them to join us in a glass of beetroot and parsnip wine sometime – when my eyes were drawn to the back of a woman sitting two rows in front of us and to the right. She was wearing a red coat with a black fur collar, not unusual in itself – but out of the top of the collar protruded the top of a coat hanger, of which she was obviously completely unaware. I nudged Julie and indicated the coat, and we stared at each other not knowing what to do. It was obviously my responsibility to draw the woman's attention to the hanger as, there being no one in the row in front, we were the nearest.

I tried a discreet cough, then blew my nose loudly and dropped my hymn book. This only succeeded in making a gentleman with ginger hair and large moustache, who was sitting three rows in front, turn round and glare at me fiercely.

Next I tried three short, sharp coughs and received a nasty look from the vicar and a dig in the ribs and a frown from Julie.

‘And now we will sig hyb dumber 508,' announced the vicar. As we stood up for the final hymn, Trev suddenly gave such an enormous sneeze that the woman actually turned round and we came eye to eye.

Quickly I patted the back of my neck and pointed urgently to my jacket but, after giving me a concerned look, she turned away. She was obviously intrigued, however, and turned round again, whereupon I repeated my urgent gestures. This time, I believe she thought I was drawing attention to her dandruff as she started patting her shoulders absentmindedly. Her fingers suddenly froze as she touched the coat hanger and I felt a wave of relief pass over me and grinned at Julie. But now came the dilemma.

I think the whole of the congregation behind her was aware of the predicament by now and we awaited the outcome with bated breath. Would she remove the offending article (and, if so, how) or would she brazen it out?

The hymn was a long one – eight verses – during which time her hand frequently stole round the back of her neck to touch the hook but no decision was reached.

The service ended and, to my amazement, she darted away without so much as one word of thanks.

‘You'd have thought,' I said to Julie, ‘that she would have had the decency to come over and express her gratitude, wouldn't you?'

The ginger gent was standing nearby and said loudly to his companion, ‘People with germs should keep themselves to themselves, that's what I always say,' and looked meaningly at us.

Trev sick all night due to eating three large chocolate Easter eggs yesterday, one after the other.

Was just putting some vegetable seeds into our plot under the kitchen window when I heard Steve getting his car out of the garage. Thought I would go and say a friendly ‘hello.'

‘What ho,' I shouted, ‘not working on the old barbecue this morning?'

‘Just going for a round of golf with Alan,' he replied and I could see, when he got out of the car to adjust his wing mirror, that he was indeed all set for the game. His natty check trousers and matching blue sweater were “set off” by a tartan Tam-o'Shanter cap with a large red pom-pom on top.

‘What do you think of these?' he asked, pointing to his bag of golf clubs propped against the garage wall. On top of each club was a scarlet hood with “Crundle's Ketchup” emblazoned on it.

‘We're doing a spot of advertising for Crundle's, I'm handling the account myself,' Steve said.

‘They'll be joining our stand at the Open in July for a spot of the old dolce vita.'

I used to play a bit of golf myself. As a matter of fact, I was just on the point of joining Southmere Golf Club when we moved. ‘Where do you play?' I asked.

‘Alan and I have joined Oxborough – they have a very good pro there. I have a lesson each week. How about a game sometime?'

‘I'd like that,' I replied and then wondered if I'd been a little hasty. Steve's golf is obviously in a different class to mine. Maybe I, too, had better have a refresher session with a pro.

Now we have the house straight, I shall have a bit more time to devote to my hobbies.

What a dreadful day this has been. My arrangements started out well enough with Brimcup picking me up at the garage after I had made my instructions clear to the petrol attendant, who was the only person at the garage at 8.45 am.

‘Yes, sir, I'll tell Lefty as soon as he gets here – you want the dashboard making good, the squeak on the brakes seeing to, the windscreen wipers adjusted and a general service.'

‘That's correct,' I said. ‘I'll be here to collect it at 5.30.'

As we drove off, I remember saying to Brimcup, ‘This is a reliable garage – I have it on very good authority.'

Spent rather dull day at the office catching up on paperwork and was pleased to see Brimcup at 5.15. He was in a hurry as he goes to Italian Renaissance classes on Tuesday evenings – and he dropped me off at the garage.

I could see my car waiting at the side and was looking forward to seeing it restored to its former glory, but no sign of anyone. I went over to the car, it was open but I could see no key. Anyone could have stolen it. I could feel myself getting annoyed.

Then, as if from nowhere, the petrol lad suddenly appeared.

‘Why is there no one here with my car keys?' I demanded.

‘You did say 5.30 and it's only 5.25, sir.'

(I definitely did not like the way he said “sir”.)

‘I expected Mr Leftburke to be here himself in person to hand over my keys.'

‘Oh,' he replied very casually, ‘Lefty had to go out on a job. Here are your keys – catch,' and he threw them at me. I missed them, of course, and was really furious by this time. I retrieved them from a puddle and, in what I hope was a dignified manner, said coldly, ‘Well, tell your Mr Leftburke I will be getting in touch with him tomorrow.'

I started the engine and swept out of the forecourt. To my further annoyance, the brakes made just as much, if not more, noise than before, causing several heads to turn on the way home. The dashboard, when I glanced down at it, looked as if it had just been given a thin coating of varnish – the scratch marks still very visible – and the windscreen wipers seemed to be covered in oil. I could only hope that they had spent their time giving the car a good servicing.

About a mile or two from home, I had a terrible shock – out of the blue something sprang onto my shoulder. Something hot and furry and with claws.

Luckily, I kept my head and was in a quiet road at the time. I screeched to a halt and, as I did so, a large marmalade cat jumped down on to the passenger seat. It must have been asleep on the floor in the back. How long had it been there and where did it come from?

I decided to drive on home and have a stiff drink.

‘Pour me a stiff drink,' I said to Julie as soon as I got through the door. She reappeared with a tumbler of brick-red liquid.

‘It's the beetroot and parsnip,' she announced. ‘It smells a bit peculiar.'

I was not amused. I was even less amused when, after describing the day's harrowing events, all Julie could say was, ‘It's probably the garage owner's cat. You ought to take it back right away and apologise.'

After returning home from the Cock and Bull last night, I decided that the best thing would be to put the cat in the garage and take it back the next day. I rehearsed what I would say to Leftburke and I was still going over the words this morning when I opened the garage door. The smell that greeted me was unpleasant and, finding no box, I had to pick up the animal and carry it out to the car.

Across the road, Steve was just setting off for work.

‘Hello, hello,' he shouted through his car window. ‘Going into the tennis racquet business, eh?' I couldn't even give a cheery wave with the cat wriggling in my arms. I don't know how people can be so bright and jolly so early in the morning.

Leftburke was there in person this time. Without saying a word, I picked up the cat and advanced towards him. The words ‘Now look here, Leftburke' were just forming on my lips when he bore down on me with a roar which took the wind out of my sails.

‘So there she is – what do you mean by taking our cat? Do you realise my wife has been frantic all night. Nearly mad she's been. I'll have you reported.' He snatched the cat very rudely and hurled some more verbal abuse at me, flung himself into his own car and drove off at great speed.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the petrol attendant; he'd been listening to every word, of course. I said loudly, ‘Well, he needn't expect my custom any more.'

Still brushing cat's hairs off my suit and off the carpet in the back of the car. Went to Ted's Clip Joint for a haircut at lunchtime. Had to wait about thirty minutes. Became very interested in a copy of The Catering Times.

‘Not too much off the back,' I told Ted. I always have this fear that the barber will scalp me if I don't keep an eagle eye on him.

After chatting about this and that, Ted delivered a bombshell. ‘Getting a bit thin on top, aren't we, sir?' I couldn't believe he was talking to me.

‘Just a little,' I replied. He was unaware of the turmoil he had caused in my mind and continued to air his views on the political scene, a football match he had seen on TV, his holiday plans and so on, but all I could think was, I'm going bald, I'm going bald. What I'm wondering is, who else has noticed?

Julie remarked that I took longer than usual brushing my hair this morning, but I didn't say anything.

Due to the imminent arrival of the Elkes, Julie had deemed it necessary yesterday to completely alter the furniture arrangements in the living room.

‘Una popped in for a coffee this morning and thought the television would look better on the other side of the fireplace so that meant we had to move the desk and then the settee looked all wrong!'

The room was in a shambles. I must say, I wish I'd been consulted about this and said as much to Julie but she only gave a short laugh.

Also, why didn't Una stay and finish the job she'd started?

The whole evening was spent putting the room to rights. Trev and his friend Craig adding to the general chaos by having a game of cards in the middle of the floor. I'm still not at all sure that the room looks right, it looked better as it was before, but Julie seemed pleased with the final results.

Did a little gardening this afternoon. Some grass seed that I planted seems to be coming up well, except for a patch destroyed by the dog.

Julie babysat for Sue and Alan Uppe this evening. ‘I'll take my knitting – it'll be something to do with no television,' she said. When she returned at 11.30, she remarked that she hadn't had a minute to do any knitting as Justine, Jason and Cordelia had all been doing their homework and she had spent most of the time looking up words in their Encyclopaedia Britannicas and dictionaries.

‘Where did the Uppes go?' I enquired.

‘They went out for a meal with the Price-Potters. It's their wedding anniversary and they have found this fantastic new eating place called B & O on the Liverpool Road. It's run by two chaps called Bertrand and Oliver and the food is apparently out of this world.'

‘Hmm, I expect the price is too,' I said.

‘I thought we might take the Elkes there for a meal, if they can stay that long,' Julie said.

‘What do you mean – if they can stay that long? I thought they were coming for the night.'

To say pandemonium broke loose is putting it mildly…

‘Staying the night!' Julie shrieked. ‘Their letter never said anything about staying the night. Where is that letter?' We spent half an hour looking for the letter – found eventually in Julie's knitting bag. We read and re-read it, putting meanings into words probably never intended, and we went to bed at 12.30 in a somewhat worried frame of mind.

The Butts have just had a large load of manure delivered next door and the smell floated up to us through the open window as we lay chatting in bed this morning. I only hope it has been dispersed by tomorrow as it does nothing for the atmosphere of the neighbourhood.

We have decided to make up two single beds in our guest room and prepare everything as if the Elkes were coming to stay the night. This way we will feel more relaxed about the whole event.

‘We can take them out for a meal at that B & 0 place. Sue Uppe can babysit for us. I expect she'd be glad to have the night off from all that French and Latin etc.,' I said, glad to have organised it all in my mind.

Something seemed to be bothering Julie at teatime and she suddenly announced, ‘I don't think I like the settee where it is now – I think it looked better by the window.' I congratulated myself on my restraint and bit back the remark that sprang to my lips.

It ended with us spending the better part of the evening trundling furniture round again. I was eventually rewarded by Julie remarking, ‘Yes, I told you it would look better like that.' The room is now exactly as it was this time last week.

Was quite glad to get back to the comparative peace and quiet of the office today. At least there is less actual physical work involved.

Still no news of P.H.'s plans after Avery's departure. Although Brimcup says he was in the accounts office one day when “certain conversations” took place, whatever that may or may not mean.

I don't know if it was meant as a joke or not but when I complained to Avery about the amount of ink he'd left on the roller towel, he said, with a meaningful look, ‘Keep your hair on.' It touched me on a very sore spot and, to my annoyance, my hand automatically flew to the back of my head to smooth down my hair. Avery went out of the gents with the usual smirk on his face.

In the afternoon, I had an appointment at a nearby car factory and was able to get home in good time, only to find Julie in a “state”.

‘Sue can't babysit tonight – they have to go to a function,' she said.

‘We'll have to ask Una then, and if she can't come we'll take Trev with us.' No sooner had I finished saying this than there was a loud honking of a car horn outside.

‘It's the Elkes!' shouted Trev and ran out to greet them.

When we had all got our breath back, Joe said, ‘We had an awful job finding you in this neck of the woods. How do you like living in this part of the world?' He made Weston sound like the Antarctic or somewhere equally remote.

‘We like it very much, don't we, Julie?' I replied, slightly on the defensive. ‘What will you have to drink, a sherry?' I said this loudly as I saw that Julie was about to reach for the beetroot and parsnip.

‘Well, just a quickie,' said Pam. ‘While we tell you all the Southmere news.'

So they were not staying the night after all. Julie and I exchanged a quick look.

We were just hearing about a case of suspected witchcraft in the road next to the Elkes, when there was a loud knock at the door. I went to see who it was and to my amazement there was a policeman standing there. I could sense Joe and Pam hanging on every word as he said, ‘Could I just have a word with you, sir?' He came straight into the living room, ‘The fortnight is up.'

I must have looked blank. You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife.

‘The dog, sir, the dog.' I still had no idea what he was talking about. He went out to the police car and, to my horror, was back in an instant with something that was all too familiar. ‘Nobody came to claim him,' the policeman explained. ‘So he's all yours.' Trev hurled himself on the dog, who yelped with excitement.

I intercepted a look between the Elkes, who rose, while Joe said, ‘Well, I can see you're busy and we must be wending our way.'

‘But you've only just come,' I protested.

‘Well you know how it is,' and he hissed at me as we went through the door, ‘Pam's allergic to dogs.' I had forgotten.

We passed by the manure heap, smelling as strongly as ever, and, to the accompaniment of dog howls, the Elkes promised to come and see us again some time.