The Killing in the Café

by Simon Brett

  ‘You are already Chair of the Fethering Village Committee.’

  ‘Chairman, actually.’

  ‘Never mind that. If you were also Chair of the SPCS Action Committee, there would be a clear conflict of interest.’

  ‘No, there wouldn’t.’

  ‘Yes, there would.’

  ‘No, there wouldn’t.’

  Jude was beginning to wonder whether this pantomime crosstalk would go on until the two men ended up hitting each other. But Quintus Braithwaite stopped the bickering and, turning to the assembled throng of the usual suspects, he said, ‘Very well, we now have two candidates for the post of Chair of the SPCS Action Committee. Myself, Commodore Quintus Braithwaite, and Arnold Bloom, who, as you all know, is already Chair of—’

  ‘Chairman of—’

  ‘Chair of the Fethering Village Committee. He claims there would be no conflict of interest were he to take on the role of Chair of both bodies, but I need hardly point out that, should the SPCS Action Committee decide to follow a course which was opposed by the Fethering Village Committee …’ He spread his arms wide and shrugged. ‘Need I say more?’

  ‘Well, I think you should say more if—’

  But the Commodore steamrollered over Arnold Bloom’s objections. ‘Very well, so we’ll take this straight to the vote. Will those of you who believe that Arnold Bloom is the right person to take over the task of chairing the SPCS Action Committee please raise your right hands?’ Only a few went up. ‘And those of you who believe that Commodore Quintus Braithwaite would do a better job in the role, please raise your right hands?’

  Maybe, thought Jude, he thinks speaking of himself in the third person makes his total disregard for the democratic process more acceptable? It didn’t matter, though. Commodore Quintus Braithwaite had won the vote and was duly elected Chair of the SPCS Action Committee.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I’m glad that’s sorted. And I think the next most important thing we should organize is getting some headed notepaper printed. Nothing impresses or shows the seriousness of any business enterprise more than an effective letterhead. Now there’s a stationery printer in London whom my wife Phoebe has used for invitations for charity balls and that kind of thing, and I think we can guarantee that they would produce a stylish letterhead for—’

  ‘Just a minute,’ interposed Arnold Bloom. ‘Aren’t we getting a bit ahead of ourselves here? Yes, we may in time need SPCS notepaper, but we shouldn’t be thinking about getting it printed until we know what names are going to be on it.’

  ‘I thought we’d just established,’ said the Commodore acidly, ‘that I am Chair of the SPCS Action Committee. So obviously my name should go on the letterhead.’

  ‘Yes, but what other names should also be there?’

  ‘I don’t think, Arnold, we actually need any other names.’

  ‘But what about the names of the Action Committee’s other officers?’

  ‘We don’t have any other officers.’

  ‘No, but we will. You’re not proposing to run the whole thing on your own, are you, Quintus?’

  It was clear to Jude, from the expression on the Commodore’s face, that that was exactly what he was proposing to do. ‘Well, obviously,’ he said, ‘I’ll need secretarial back-up and—’

  ‘But more than that,’ Arnold countered, ‘you will rely on the full support of your committee.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ the newly elected Chair conceded, ‘I’m sure their views on certain topics will be invaluable to my work but—’

  ‘I don’t think we can proceed any further until we have appointed the full committee.’ Arnold Bloom sat back with some satisfaction. And even more satisfaction when a ripple of agreement went around the room. No one in Fethering could outdo him when it came to procedural protocol. He felt he had won a small but significant victory over Quintus Braithwaite.

  A lengthy discussion then ensued as to the optimum number of committee members required. Needless to say, the Commodore had views on this subject too. He also laid down some ground rules, trying to cancel out Arnold Bloom’s recent triumph. Without mentioning his rival by name, he said he thought it would be invidious for any member of the Fethering Village Committee to be on the SPCS Action Committee, for the previously mentioned ‘conflict of interest’ reasons.

  On this he didn’t get his own way, though. Arnold Bloom spoke eloquently of the need for ‘transparent liaison’ between the two committees and, experienced in the ways of managing meetings, pushed for a quick vote on the issue. This time, probably because some of those present were feeling guilty for having excluded such a stalwart of Fethering society from the Chairmanship, he won and was duly elected a member of the SPCS Action Committee.

  Looking at the faces of the two men, Jude envisaged many conflicts in meetings to come and felt glad that there was no danger of her being involved in their process of oneupmanship.

  A long wrangle then ensued as to how many people should be members of the ideal action committee. The Commodore recommended nine, so that in the event of a four-all split, the Chair’s casting vote could decide the issue. Arnold Bloom, for reasons which seemed to be nothing more than bloody-mindedness, favoured a larger committee. Thirteen seemed to him to be the ideal number.

  This suggestion was vetoed, however, by a woman with the long blonde hair of a flower child from the Sixties. The face framed by this hair suggested that it could well have been in the Sixties when she first started dyeing it.

  She identified herself as Flora Claire and objected that thirteen was a ‘bad luck number’ and it would be, like, really tempting fate to set up the committee on such an inauspicious basis. ‘I think we should go with a committee of fifteen,’ she said. ‘Fifteen is a number which has really good vibes. It’s made up of one and five and they are both really sympathetic numbers.’

  ‘But fifteen,’ protested Arnold Bloom, ‘is too many. In my very extensive experience of committees, with fifteen everything becomes very unwieldy. Thirteen is the perfect number for maximum efficiency.’

  ‘Fifteen, though,’ Flora continued, ‘is a really auspicious number. Not only is it, like I said, made up of one and five, it’s also five times three, and three is like one of the most potent numbers there is. I think we have to go with fifteen.’

  Normally the Commodore would have pooh-poohed such a flaky suggestion, but in this case it was an argument against Arnold Bloom so, come the vote, he supported Flora Claire. As did the majority of those present and in that way Braithwaite achieved his first small victory over his rival. And also, to Jude’s mind, ended up with a committee which was far too large to be efficient.

  Encouraged by his success, though, Quintus next laid down another ground rule. This again was on the grounds of conflict of interest. He decreed that no one who had any involvement in the current ownership or management of Polly’s Cake Shop should be allowed on to the committee.

  This did not seem to Jude to be too controversial. Neither Josie Achter nor her daughter Rosalie had shown any interest in attending either the first or second meeting of the SPCS. But to her surprise she felt Sara nudge her and heard a whisper in her ear saying, ‘Will you stand on the committee for me then?’

  ‘What?’ Jude whispered back.

  ‘I’m very concerned about the future of Polly’s. I want to be involved in whatever happens to the place. And if I can’t be on the committee, then I want someone there rooting for me.’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure that I—’

  But she was interrupted by the Commodore asking for nominations for the other vacant positions on the SPCS Action Committee. This was another characteristic rule-bending ploy. If he’d asked for volunteers, he would have ended up with all of the usual suspects who were on every other committee in Fethering. Asking for nominations might wrong-foot some of them and make for a less predictable line-up.

  And the first name to be put forward could certainly not have been predicted. Before she had time to stop her, Jude found he
rself being nominated by Sara Courtney. Painfully aware of the woman’s fragility, she didn’t want to raise objections in such a public forum and so, to her hidden fury, found herself duly elected to the SPCS Action Committee.

  FIVE

  Other nominations were made and the remaining thirteen places on the SPCS Action Committee were quickly filled. Flora Claire had a surprising amount of support in the room and was duly elected.

  So was a thin, dry, almost skeletal man – round the seventy mark – who identified himself as Alec Walters, a retired accountant. Because of his professional qualification, and because so few people in the village could even understand a balance sheet, he found himself in the role of Treasurer on virtually every committee in Fethering. And he duly became Treasurer of the SPCS Action Committee.

  The role of Secretary was given to Wendy Roote, a stalwart of SADOS, an amateur dramatic group in a nearby village (known more fully as ‘Smalting Amateur Dramatic and Operatic Society’, and known by local cynics as the ‘Saddoes’). She assured the assembled throng that she’d do everything possible for the cause of SPCS ‘so long as I’m not in rehearsal.’

  Wendy who, like Alec Walters, had clearly served her time on several local committees, asked who would be organizing the Agenda for the next meeting. Quintus Braithwaite, caught on the hop because he hadn’t anticipated this question, quickly improvised that any members who wished to put forward items should let the Secretary know about them, and Wendy would ensure that they appeared on the relevant Agenda.

  Then a woman who nobody had seen before introduced herself rather breathlessly as Lesley Tarquin. She was dressed in white jeans as tight as tights, and a sort of silver lattice-work top. Her very short hair had actually been dyed white (an unusual thing in Fethering where there was a sufficiency of white hair on display without resorting to chemical enhancement). ‘I’ve only just moved down here from Pimlico. Used to work in PR, so I know all about the “marketing and publicity game”. I’m very interested in how much can be achieved coverage-wise through the social-media platforms like Facebook and Twitter.’ She spoke with such enthusiasm and apparent expertise that someone very quickly proposed her as a committee member and she was duly appointed to the title of Press Officer.

  Having got most of his objectives achieved, with Arnold Bloom’s presence on the committee the only minor setback, Commodore Quintus Braithwaite was in expansive mood. He suggested the date of the next meeting to be a fortnight hence – ‘got to move along with these things, mustn’t let the grass grow under our feet. And it’ll be as easy to have it here again, that is’ – he deferred to his wife – ‘if the management has no objections.’

  Phoebe Braithwaite, not for the first time in their married life, assured her husband that she had no objections to what he intended to do anyway.

  Arnold Bloom, however, had a predictable argument to put forward. ‘Surely it’d be better if our meetings were held on neutral ground? The Fethering Village Committee always meets in the All Saints Church Hall, and that’s a more central venue for—’

  ‘I’m not so sure.’ Quintus Braithwaite was not going to concede home advantage so easily. ‘I’ve sat on hard seats in too many draughty church halls over the years to want to repeat the experience more than I have to.’

  But Arnold had what he thought to be another clinching argument up his sleeve. ‘All Saints Church Hall is also a short walk from the Crown and Anchor, where we frequently adjourn for a noggin after meetings of the Fethering Village Committee.’

  He had, however, simply played into his opponent’s hands. ‘Well, that’s not a problem,’ said Quintus bonhomously. ‘Phoebe, you can start pouring the wine straight away.’

  His wife dutifully scuttled off into the kitchen.

  ‘Now obviously,’ the Chair went on, ‘at our next meeting we’ll have a proper Agenda and formal discussions, but I think we’ve achieved a lot tonight, getting our officers and committee in place, and maybe it’s the time to draw this evening’s proceedings to a close—’

  He was fingering his gavel, but was preventing from bashing it on the table by an interruption from Flora Claire. ‘I think we should just have a short discussion about what, if we take over Polly’s as a Community Café, we want it to be.’

  ‘Well, we want it to be a Community Café,’ said the Commodore a little testily.

  ‘Yes, but what kind of events do we want to take place there?’ Flora persisted.

  ‘We don’t want events, we want people drinking tea and coffee and eating sticky cakes.’

  ‘Oh, but there’s so much more we could do with the place.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Well, it could become a venue for people to relax in …’

  ‘Yes, fine. They can relax while they have their tea and coffee and sticky cakes.’

  ‘No, but I meant it could become a more spiritual place.’

  ‘What?’ asked Quintus Braithwaite with considerable foreboding.

  ‘Like a Mindfulness Centre.’

  ‘A Mindfulness Centre?’ The sceptical tone of his echo was one that Jude had heard often in reaction to her claims to be a healer.

  But Flora Claire seemed unaware of it. ‘Yes, everyone’s into Mindfulness these days, and it’d be great to have a resource right here in Fethering for—’

  The Commodore had heard enough. ‘I think the basic aim of the SPCS should be to save the café in its existing state – as a café. If there were, later down the line, a majority on the committee who then wanted it to be used as a venue for other activities – and I rather doubt if there would be – then that would clearly be something to discuss at a subsequent committee meeting.’

  This had the desired effect of shutting Flora up. But not, Jude felt sure, for ever. Another ongoing conflict to develop during future meetings. Not only the Chair against Arnold Bloom but also the Chair against Flora Claire. Jude wondered gloomily why she hadn’t been quick-footed enough to avoid being elected on to the SPCS Action Committee. And how quickly she could decently get off it. She loathed committees.

  Phoebe Braithwaite was already appearing from the kitchen with a tray of wine glasses filled with white and red, and Quintus’s gavel was once again poised to descend when another interruption came, this time from Arnold Bloom.

  ‘I feel, Mr Chairman,’ he said, deliberately avoiding any shortening of the title, ‘that there is one thing we on the committee should focus on as soon as possible, and that is finance.’

  ‘No worries there,’ said the Commodore dismissively. ‘We’ve just appointed a Treasurer.’

  ‘Yes, it was not that level of finance that I was talking about. I have no doubt that Alec will be an excellent Treasurer for the SPCS Action Committee, as he has been an excellent Treasurer for so many other local societies, but the finance I was referring to was on a rather bigger scale.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ Quintus Braithwaite’s tone was edging towards rude. He wanted to get the committee meeting finished as soon as possible so that he could impress those present with the lavishness of Hiawatha’s hospitality.

  ‘Running Polly’s Cake Shop as a Community Enterprise is an admirable idea,’ Arnold Bloom continued, ‘but the fact remains that the community does not own the premises. And I think before we go any further in planning how the venue would be run, we should confront this rather large elephant in the room. How are we going to raise the money required to buy their property?’

  ‘We could rent it,’ came the reply from the Chair, who had only just thought of that.

  ‘We could rent it only if the person who owns the freehold is agreeable to having us rent it.’

  ‘And who would that person be?’ asked Quintus Braithwaite casually, unwilling to reveal the inadequacy of his researches into the project.

  ‘Well, currently Josie Achter owns it. But I’ve heard rumours that she’s very keen to sell up and might not be open to the idea of renting the place out.’

  ‘Then we should definitely find out
if that is her position or not.’

  Arnold Bloom nodded. ‘That is exactly what I was about to suggest. I feel investigation of that matter should be initiated, before the next meeting indeed, so that the outcome can be reported on at that meeting … I think it’s vital that we should find out the views of the current owner of Polly’s Cake Shop on its future.’

  ‘We’re not going to be bound by what she thinks,’ the Commodore protested.

  ‘That will rather depend on whether we are in any position to dictate terms – in other words, returning to the elephant in the room, whether we can somehow raise the funding to purchase the freehold.’

  ‘Don’t you think it possible,’ interposed Flora Claire, ‘that Josie might be prepared to rent the place to us?’

  ‘We could certainly ask her about that,’ said Arnold. But he didn’t sound optimistic.

  ‘Or maybe,’ Flora went on, ‘she might be prepared to lower the price a bit … “for the sake of Fethering”?’

  Jude’s reaction to that suggestion would have been, ‘Dream on’, and others present were equally dismissive of the idea.

  Arnold Bloom said diplomatically that every avenue should be investigated. ‘And I’m sure that sounding out the current owner would be a tactful exercise. We might find that Josie Achter is a strong supporter of the Community Project we are envisaging.’

  From what Jude had heard of the woman, this sounded unlikely. Nor did it seem any likelier that the community of Fethering would be able to raise the kind of money needed to buy the café. In fact, she felt sure that the SPCS Action Committee was one of those local initiatives which would pretty soon die of attrition. The enthusiasm with which it had been set up would melt away in the face of reality. And she for one wouldn’t feel much regret when that happened. She’d only come to Hiawatha to support Sara. She’d much rather be spending her Wednesday evening in the Crown and Anchor.

  Alec Walters, the recently elected Treasurer, now thought it was time to put his oar in. ‘If Josie Achter had any interest in the future of her property, one would have thought that she’d have appeared at one of our SPCS meetings. But she has appeared at neither.’