by R J Gould
‘That’s a nice outfit, Carol,’ Margaret said as the group stood by the hotel entrance waiting for Thomas to join them.
‘Marks and Spencer.’
‘Can’t beat them, can you.’
‘No and you’ll never believe the price. You look lovely, too.’
‘Thank you, Carol, kind of you to say. Not what I hoped to wear, we tried to go shopping to get something special last weekend but the weather beat us.’
Thomas approached and they walked on into the building and towards the reception desk.
‘And look at this young one,’ Carol continued, grabbing hold of Lil by the shoulder. ‘You’ve met Lil a couple of times, ain’t you? Bet you never seen her look like such a proper young lady. Show Margaret your outfit, Lil.’
‘Mum!’ Lil protested, the grab having caused a texting error.
‘Go on Lil, undo your coat.’
What the fuck, thought Lil, and she did as she was told.
‘Gorgeous, she’s a right princess,’ Margaret exclaimed.
Just then, Wayne appeared with Clarissa close behind. Lil ran up and hugged him. ‘Get me away from these ancient idiots,’ she whispered. Wayne gently pushed her to the side and faced Carol, Thomas, Margaret, and Jack, who were standing in line with Jack a little apart from the other three.
‘We’ve got a problem,’ he said. ‘A big problem.’
Reginald, Suzie, Fiona, and Henry
‘Erm, Reginald, do you know that there’s a police car behind us?’ Henry asked.
‘Yes, I do know, I can hear it, I can see it, though why he needs to sound that bloody siren and flash every light on the car when the roads are so empty, I don’t know.’
Reginald slowed down and moved a little to his left. ‘The man’s an idiot, I’ve given him plenty of room to pass and he’s still flashing and sirening.’ He opened his window and used the “pass me” hand signal, learnt in the days when there was a need to be prepared for mechanical indicators to fail. His first car had little orange flags that were meant to stick out when indicating, but rarely worked. ‘I can’t believe it,’ he continued, I’m down to twenty miles an hour, this idiot has come shooting up behind me and now he’s slowed right down.’
‘You could stop to let him pass,’ Suzie recommended.
‘Can’t you see that one of his lights is flashing ‘stop’? I think it’s you he wants to deal with,’ Henry said with polite restraint. The ‘stop’ light had been flashing for quite some time and it was a poor show that Reginald hadn’t noticed, but Henry hadn’t wanted to point it out for fear of more abuse.
‘Me? Why would he want me to stop?’
‘Just do it, Reginald,’ Suzie ordered. ‘The longer you ignore him the angrier the policeman will be.’
Fiona chipped in. ‘By the way, you’ve just passed the entrance to the hotel.’
‘Why didn’t anyone say!’ Reginald exclaimed as he slammed on the brakes. There was a skidding noise behind him followed by a relatively gentle tap as the police car glided against the back of the partygoers’ car.
‘Well done again, Reginald. You’ve now got three areas of damage to explain to Hertz and we haven’t even reached the hotel yet. Wonder how many we’ll get on the way back?’
‘Not funny, Suzie,’ Reginald retorted. ‘Bugger, the policeman has got out. It’s a woman, just my luck.’
He opened his window.
‘Good morning, sir.’
‘Hello officer.’
‘I have several questions. The first being, can you read?’
‘Of course I can read, what on earth do you mean?’
‘The letters S, T, O, and P, the ones flashing on the top of my car for the last mile or so.’
‘You had so many other lights going I didn’t pick the word out.’
‘Do you have a sight problem?’ she asked looking at his closed eyeball encased in swathes of black swollen skin.
‘No, I can see perfectly well, thank you.’
‘It looks quite new.’
‘It’s a hire car, it is fairly new.’
‘I don’t mean the car, I’m referring to your eye injury. Do you care to tell me how you got it?’ Now she looked across to Suzie, focusing on her neck brace and arm in a sling. Reginald remained silent.
‘If I can help, officer,’ Suzie suggested. ‘You’re quite right, it is a recent injury. We were minding our own business when a motorcyclist punched Reginald. It was a ridiculous incident, but honestly there’s nothing to deal with on that front. Actually, we’ve driven all the way from London and Reginald has coped perfectly well.’
‘And your injuries?’
‘We were involved in a car accident earlier this week.’
‘And another car accident just now,’ the policewoman continued.
‘That happened when we saw Fiona and Henry walking along in the snow so I stopped suddenly and skidded against the lamppost.’
‘Well then, that’s another accident because I meant when you did an emergency stop on an icy road and I hit you.’
‘Exactly, you hit me. Isn’t it always the fault of the driver at the rear for driving too close?’
‘Are you saying that it was my fault?’ asked the policewoman. She was a petite young lady, immaculately dressed with neatly bobbed hair and a pleasant face. But as she spoke there was the beginning of a transformation to an angry and very tough upholder of the law.
‘You know the law, not me.’
‘So you are saying it was my fault. You’ve just had at the very least your third accident, you’ve been in a fight with a motorcyclist, you’re driving with diminished visibility, a possible assault on the lady sitting next to you, ignoring a police request to stop, and we haven’t even come to the reason I wanted to stop you in the first place.’
‘Which is?’ Reginald was rising to the challenge. He resented being bullied and in particular would not tolerate bullying from a female.
‘You are driving without a wing mirror.’
‘I told you it was against the law,’ Henry contributed.
‘Shut up, Henry. I have the wing mirror, it’s on the floor in the back. Fiona, will you show this woman the bloody wing mirror.’
The policewoman was taking notes and had regained her calm, with sarcasm replacing her anger. ‘It is meant to be an implement to help you drive, sir, not an item to carry around on the off chance that you might need it. May I see your licence?’
‘This is getting ridicul –’
‘Reginald, show the lady your licence,’ Fiona ordered. ‘Officer, can I explain something and then I hope we can resolve things. We are the parents; well, parents and stepparents; in fact, parents, stepparent, and possible future stepparent, of one of an engaged couple. We’re on our way to celebrate at the Manor Lodge Hotel. Is there any way that we can deal with this later so that we can get to the party on time?’
The policewoman looked at Reginald’s licence and put it inside her jacket pocket. ‘I’m not letting this man drive again today. I don’t think he’s in a fit state what with his eye and I have to say his temperament, too. In fact, I’ll be arresting him if he doesn’t change his attitude.’ She gave him a tough cursory glance before continuing. ‘And I can’t let anyone drive this car without a wing mirror.’
‘Might I suggest something?’ Henry asked. ‘We are literally a minute or so from the hotel. One of us, Fiona or me, can drive. Could we please proceed to the hotel, if need be under police escort, so that we can celebrate what is, after all, a most joyous occasion? Of course, once there we won’t use the car again until it’s repaired. If necessary we can stay the night, and get the local dealer to come tomorrow with a replacement mirror because I appreciate we won’t be able to fix this one.’ He had taken it from Fiona and was holding it up, badly buckled where it had been ripped from the car. ‘And if it isn’t possible to get a new wing mirror quickly we could get the car towed back to London. Please help us, officer.’
It had been a hard day for the polic
ewoman, whose name was Sharon. Before starting her early morning duty she had to drop the children off at her mother’s. They had no intention of making her life easy, wriggling as she tried to dress them, running out the bathroom when she wanted to clean their teeth, refusing to eat their cereal because Sharon had run out of Frosties even though she put sugar on the Cornflakes, which made them exactly the same in her eyes. At last she had been able to shove them into the car and drive the short journey to her mother where she dumped them, William crying and Miranda moaning as she left. Since starting her duty she’d hardly had a moment to sit down. All morning she’d been out in the car dealing with traffic incidents, idiots driving too fast and ending up blocking roads. And here was another idiot, the king of all idiots. The others in the car seemed respectable enough. Best just to get shot of them and file an office charge against the arrogant bastard for careless driving and hitting a police vehicle. For a quiet life and a desire to end her duty on time so that she could get back to her kids she agreed to the suggestion put forward by the man sitting in the back. Sharon took the names of all the occupants just in case. She kept Reginald’s driving licence and insurance papers. She then inspected Fiona’s licence before allowing her to turn the car and follow the hundred yards to the driveway entrance of the hotel.
Once they had turned in, Sharon stepped out of the police car.
‘This is a private avenue so you aren’t committing an offence driving without a wing mirror. Can I remind you that any further use of this vehicle on a public road will be considered a serious offence, and may I suggest to you, sir,’ she said, looking at Reginald now in the back seat, ‘that you develop some manners even at this late stage in your life. Enjoy your celebration.’
‘Thank you, officer,’ Fiona was the first to say, her thanks echoed by Henry and Suzie.
‘What an absolute bitch,’ Reginald declared to no response after she had moved out of earshot.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it,’ Henry stated with deliberation as they made their way up the tree-lined driveway, past skeletal trees covered in a layer of soft white snow. ‘“Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind, As man’s ingratitude,”’ he continued.
‘What are you talking about?’ asked a scornful Reginald.
‘It’s Shakespeare,’ Henry informed.
‘Meaningless if you ask me,’ Reginald retorted, having found a target to let out his frustration.
‘I think it’s beautiful,’ Suzie said.
The conversation was terminated because ahead of them Clarissa and Wayne were standing at the entrance to a fine Georgian mansion with the other five guests by their side.
Everyone - Starters
There was dramatic news to convey to the new arrivals and Clarissa was raring to have a go at her father in front of the whole group. But her attack was waylaid fourfold by what was emerging in front of her. Firstly, there was the car Reginald was driving, which looked very much the worse for wear, with a sizeable dent at the side and a smaller one at the back – oh, and also a missing wing mirror, she noticed. Next there was Fiona and Henry getting out of the back of the car. How come they were arriving together when her mother had refused to have any contact with her father since the divorce? Then out stepped Reginald, attempting a smile but looking like a character from a horror movie featuring a villain with a sickeningly deformed face. And finally, to cap it all, Suzie was edging out of the passenger seat gingerly, her neck in a brace and her left arm in a sling.
‘What’s going on?’ Clarissa asked to no one in particular as the four of them walked towards the waiting group.
Her ability to prioritise soon resurfaced. ‘Well, actually, I don’t care about you lot. Much more important, we haven’t got a fucking room to dine in!’ Her fists were clenched, an uncomfortable reminder to Fiona of Clarissa’s regular antics as a child.
‘Don’t be silly, of course we have, Clarissa,’ Reginald reassured. ‘I booked it.’
There was a short pause as the two groups eyed each other in silence. It was like a gangster standoff, or the start of a line dance with Wayne’s family and Clarissa looking outwards from the hotel entrance, and Clarissa’s own family facing them in a parallel row. Clarissa was immediately opposite her father.
‘Well, you might have booked it, but you never confirmed and someone else has taken our place. The hotel sent you emails and you didn’t respond.’
Carol stood opposite Fiona. They exchanged a nod and a watery smile, but remained silent.
‘I’m always getting emails from hotels trying to get me to book with them. I must have deleted those thinking they were adverts.’ Reginald looked diagonally across the opposite line and met Thomas’s gaze. ‘I travel rather a lot and they all want my business,’ he said by way of explanation. He turned back to Clarissa. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll sort this out.’
With that, he pushed past Wayne and Jack as if they were invisible and made his way towards the hotel entrance. It was left to Carol to begin the introductions and there followed an outbreak of ‘Mum, this is Fiona, Clarissa’s mother’, ‘Henry, this is Thomas, Wayne’s father’, and all the other possible combinations with some shaking of hands thrown in. While the introductions were taking place they heard Reginald shouting inside the hotel.
‘I’m going in to see if I can help,’ Henry informed Fiona.
‘I’m not sure how you can. I’d leave it to Reginald.’
‘He doesn’t seem to be having much success,’ Henry remarked ahead of hearing a loud crash.
When Henry entered he saw the cause. Shattered pieces of a white porcelain vase and its ex-contents, water and large white lilies with pink centres, were on the floor in front of the reception desk.
The manager was speaking, his face red with anger. ‘Sir, if you behave like that I will have no option but to call the police.’
‘The police! It’ll only be that pathetic young woman who I’ve already had to deal with this morning. Get her if you want, see if I care.’
‘Can I help?’ Henry asked as he approached.
‘You? What can you do?’ Reginald retorted. ‘You’re just a bloody teacher. What is it someone once said, those that can do, those that can’t teach?’
‘I believe it was George Bernard Shaw in Man and Superman. That’s a quote from a piece of literature, it isn’t a fact.’
‘I don’t care where it bloody comes from! What do you know about dealing with people like this?’ Reginald pointed at the hotel manager, who was bending down to pick up the larger pieces of smashed vase. He turned back to Henry. ‘You’ve hardly got a lifelong experience of high-level negotiation, have you?’
‘Well, you’re hardly having much success here. All you’ve done is shout and smash a vase.’ The accusation of having no experience outside of teaching touched a raw nerve. Henry rose to the challenge of defending himself. ‘As it happens, my career as a teacher has pretty well come to an end. I have a commercial enterprise about to start and negotiation will be a key part of my role.’
Fiona had joined them and she listened to Henry with a degree of incredulity.
‘So what commercial enterprise is that then? A kebab stall?’ mocked Reginald.
‘Actually, it’s a café.’
‘A café. That must need top level management,’ Reginald continued. ‘Discount purchasing of cups and saucers, is that what your negotiations are about? Oh, and you mustn’t forget the teaspoons.’
‘Why don’t you introduce yourself to Wayne’s family, having so rudely ignored them just now? I’ll deal with this,’ Henry responded politely.
‘How dare you?’ Reginald snarled.
‘Do what he says, Reginald,’ Fiona snapped.
The manager was beginning to enjoy the comeuppance for the arrogant man. But his professionalism took over – it was never good policy to antagonise customers however rude they might be. After all, he reflected, based on the management course attended only two weeks’ previously, your current patrons are your best bet for
future custom. ‘May I suggest something? Why don’t your party sit in the bar area and have a drink, which we’ll happily provide free of charge. I can discuss options with this gentleman,’ he said, then looking across from Henry to Fiona, ‘and, of course, yourself, madam.’
‘Good idea, just go away will you, Reginald. Get the others and take them to the bar. We’ll join you as soon as this is sorted,’ Fiona said with more determination than she had ever directed at Reginald during their many years together. She enjoyed the rush of empowerment despite the potentially huge disappointment of not being able to celebrate the engagement as planned. ‘Everyone is still standing out there in the snow,’ she continued. ‘They might as well come in even if we end up not eating here.’
Reginald did as he was told, turning in rather dramatic fashion and striding outside where the rest of the group were silently standing like a group of forlorn cattle huddled together for warmth on a bitterly cold winter’s day.
‘Inside, everyone,’ he ordered. ‘For a drink at the bar.’ They followed him obediently, walking past Henry and Fiona at the reception desk where Henry’s negotiation skills were pleasantly surprising her.
He began by establishing that the group that had taken their place was Relate, the marriage guidance counselling service. They had booked in for a workshop at the hotel and in addition to their small conference facility they had reserved the private dining room for lunch. Yes, theoretically there was space in that room to add a second table to accommodate the engagement party. The manager had just been alerted that the Relate group was close to finishing their morning session so they would soon be making their way to the dining room. Yes, the workshop was continuing in the afternoon so they had requested prompt service. They should be finished with their meal by 1.30 p.m. or thereabouts. In fact, they had only ordered a set two courses and had asked for coffee to be served in their conference room rather than at the dining table to speed things up. And yes again, if the Relate team agreed there were enough hotel staff to set up and lay the extra table. Everything could be ready in about fifteen minutes. The Relate team would have left the dining room while the engagement party group were still eating their main courses so any speeches towards the end of their meal could be given in private.