The Gin O'Clock Club - Rosie Blake Page 0,93

How was this meeting of prostrate women my fault? And when would I get a chance to talk to Grandad?

Nearing the group I instantly recognised Paula brandishing a placard that read WE WILL NOT BE PUTT IN OUR PLACE and, more surprisingly, Margaret dressed in a hot pink long-sleeved top and sporty leggings with a fleece hairband, hands cupped around her mouth as she appeared to start up one of the chants.

‘They won’t let us in – it is a sin!’

It was catchy and I found a small smile building as I looked around the group. There must have been at least thirty women there. Some had obstructed the door by lying horizontally on the path, blocking the way in or out. A young guy in his twenties, dressed in the customary royal blue polo shirt of the club, was standing nervously in the doorway, wringing his hands and every now and again trying to clear the path of horizontal women.

‘This is ridiculous. It must be stopped. Teddy, get her to say something.’ Howard was gesturing at me.

Forgetting my own troubles for a minute, I looked at him in amazement. ‘How am I meant to stop it? And what do they want anyway?’ I asked, starting to realise I knew the answer.

Margaret spotted me, her face breaking into a wide smile, both hands waving enthusiastically.

‘Christ, it’s a coven. This is what it will be like, Teddy. There will be no escape. Women. Everywhere.’

Grandad had turned to fill me in. ‘They want to be allowed to join the golf club. They’re only allowed to play on a Wednesday morning at the moment and a lot of them are taking a taxi to a club a few miles away but they want the Men Only rule on the course broken.’

‘And what do you think?’ I held my breath, not sure I really wanted to hear the answer, but before I could I heard a roar from Howard.

‘Arjun!’

Turning, I spotted Arjun walking past not ten feet away, both hands clutching a placard that said, OUR TREATMENT OF WOMEN IS WELL UNDER PAR.

He jumped and froze as Howard’s cry hit him. Some of the women nearby looked around.

‘Arjun, what are you doing?’

Arjun stayed rooted to the spot.

‘Tell me you have confiscated that,’ Howard asked in a warning voice.

Arjun looked momentarily terrified, as if he was considering throwing the placard at us and escaping in the other direction, but then he puffed out his chest and jutted his chin and met Howard’s eye. ‘I agree with them. They should join us. It’s an archaic rule. It’s a sin not to let them in. No longer shall we oppress them!’ His voice wobbled on the last line and I couldn’t help but grin as he bravely waved the placard around.

‘You fight the patriarchy, Arjun,’ I called out, nodding at him enthusiastically. He gave me a sisterly fist pump and went back to his placard and the latest chant.

Howard turned on me. ‘I brought you here to end this madness, not encourage it. Margaret claims to have picked up this notion from you. Have. A. Word.’

‘Me?’ I said with surprise, glancing at Grandad, who I could have sworn was laughing into his hand. ‘OK, I’ll go and see what’s going on.’

Feeling rather conspicuous as I moved through the gathering crowd, I stepped over the liver-spotted legs, some surprisingly tanned and toned, past flasks of tea, grey heads bent together and the odd golf club (possible weapon if the polo-shirt attendant got frisky?) and headed towards Margaret.

‘Lottie, you came! How lovely. Did Teddy tell you to come? How sweet of him. I did hope he might approve of what we’re doing.’ Margaret’s cheeks were flushed, two pink spots, and her eyes sparkled. She looked to be burning with restless energy. I couldn’t dim that gleam on her face.

‘Did you organise all of this?’ I asked, staring round at the women, some of whom were looking curiously over at her as if awaiting instruction. She bent down and picked up a loudhailer.

‘What do we want?’

‘Inclusion!’ the crowd chanted.

‘When do we want it?’

‘Now!’

Then she put down the loudhailer and continued chatting to me. I didn’t recognise this Margaret, this sharp-eyed, confident woman bossing people around. ‘Phyllis, take that placard to Hetty. I think her F has fallen off and women’s gol makes no sense. Paula, could you round up that group at the back? They’ve just arrived and they look lost.’

She picked up the loudhailer again. ‘We want in, we

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