I couldn’t agree more!” he says emphatically. “This club is in the dark ages! I’ve been trying to find some like-minded woman to challenge the rules, only my niece wasn’t interested.”
“Oh, I’m interested,” I say. “Definitely.”
“I’m Edwin,” says the man, clasping my hand and shaking it. “Delighted to meet you. Might I buy you a quick drink and discuss your campaign for membership?”
“You mean…in there?” I point back inside the club.
“Of course! As my guest. Female guests are allowed, at least.”
“Well, OK!” I say, beaming at him. “Thanks. Only it’ll have to be quick, because I’ve got to go Christmas shopping.”
“Oh, just a snifter,” says Edwin, nodding conspiratorially. “Absolutely.”
He leads me back into the club and signs me in under the disapproving gaze of the old man, while I smile smugly. Then he ushers me into the massive grand room with the old chairs and the mantelpiece and the sherry trolley.
“Now, let’s find somewhere nice to sit,” he says, peering around. But the place seems to have filled up. Every chair has a trousered leg poking out from it or a newspaper visible over the top.
“Lord Tottle?” says a man in an apron, coming over to us. “Everything all right?”
“All the chairs are full,” Edwin says fretfully. “No one’s moving. In fact, Baines over there looks quite dead. You must stop the members dying in their chairs, Finch.”
“You come this way, my lord,” says Finch soothingly, and he leads us into another room, where he establishes us by the fire. “Shall I send the sherry trolley over?”
“Good God, no,” says Edwin, looking appalled. “We want the good stuff. Can I tempt you with a gimlet, Becky?”
“Yes!” I say, taken aback. “Fab! Thank you!”
It’s a tad early—but maybe a gimlet will help me do my Christmas shopping. In fact, I’m sure it will.
“Finch is on our side,” murmurs Edwin, as Finch moves away. “We’ve been pushing for a decade, you know. Never managed it. But I have a good feeling this time. I think you’ll make it. I’ll be your proposer, of course, and I’ll find you three seconders from the club, which is what you need.”
“Oh, thanks.” I beam at him again.
“I know the Cleath-Stuart family,” he adds conversationally. “Never knew that about inventing billiards.”
“Oh, it’s just a legend,” I say hastily. “In fact, it’s more of an urban myth.”
Finch deposits our drinks on the table, and Edwin lifts his up in a toast.
“To your membership!” he exclaims. “Now, if it’s not too much to ask, might I draft your letter to Sir Peter? I know exactly what to say to press his buttons, the pompous wretch.”
“Of course! Thank you.”
“And then the matter will go to the AGM in December. The annual general meeting, you know.” Edwin eyes me over the top of his drink, and I notice he has the most amazing pink enameled cuff links. “Could you speak out at a meeting, Becky? I’m very happy to draft your speech, if you could perform it with gusto?”
“Definitely,” I say firmly.
“Marvelous.” He touches my glass with his again. “I’ll send you the details and we’ll fight them together. I’m a friend of the disenfranchised, my dear, always have been, and I will be very glad if we can prevail. And it’s splendid to find such a keen supporter of billiards as yourself,” he adds, his face lighting up. “So unusual. So refreshing.”
Oh, right. I’d forgotten about the billiards bit.
“Well,” I say after a pause. “You know. I mean, billiards. It’s just so…” I spread my hands expressively. “What’s not to love?”
“Precisely!” Edwin says enthusiastically. He crosses his legs and I notice he has violet socks to match his cravat. “To find another aficionado is always a delight.”
“I have only one question,” I say, trying to sound casual. “When will the raffle be held?”
“The raffle?” Edwin looks puzzled.
“The Christmas raffle. I saw something about it in the lobby?”
“Oh.” Edwin’s brow clears. “That. Yes, that’s usually straight after the AGM. We have mulled wine and whatnot. Festive cheer.” He twinkles at me. “Let’s hope we’re the ones with the cheer, m’dear!”
I smile back at him happily and swig my gimlet. This is all falling nicely into place. I’ll go to the AGM, read out whatever brilliant speech Edwin writes for me, join the club, enter the raffle, and get the portmanteau. And Luke will be blown away. Ha!
* * *
—
I’m still glowing as I arrive back at Letherby station. I’ve had a fantastic afternoon. Not only did I