Green Fees - Tales of Barndem Country Club

by Brian Alford

  “If the members are too lazy and disinterested to turn up then it will be their own fault.”

  Bob had been silently contemplating something very hard. “Is that in the rules?”

  The sudden arrival of the question startled Bill who had been day dreaming through the exchange between Henry and Vic. “Is what in the rules?”

  “That if someone is holding your ball you must play it from their hand?”

  “What’s woken you up?”

  “I wasn’t asleep. I was thinking about those Japanese wanting to play the ball from the green keeper’s hand.”

  “Henry was exaggerating Bob. They were simply asking for the ball back.”

  “Henry was adamant. “You don’t ask someone by brandishing a club above your head and shouting.”

  “Seems to work for you Henry.”

  Bob had definitely drifted off into his own world as usual. “That reminds me I’m hungry. Anyone for crisps?”

  Bill and Vic looked at each other both amused and amazed at Bob’s train of thought. “You say anything about food Vic?” Vic shrugged his shoulders and shook his head in reply. Unperturbed Bob signalled to Colin who moved slowly towards the group. They were his most frequent but not best loved customers.

  “Yes Bob.”

  “I’d like to try some of those bean shoot and rice flavoured crisps please.”

  “Look, I’m very busy. Don’t try to be smart with me. What do you want?”

  “I just told you, I want to try some of those new crisps.”

  The penny dropped with Vic. That was where food had come into the conversation. “Calm down Colin. Bobs just kidding.”

  Unhelpfully Bill entered the discussion. “Yes, what he really wants is some chop suey flavoured crisps.”

  Colin turned to go. “Right, that’s it! If you lot want serving, tough! I’ve got more important customers to deal with. Sensible customers with sensible requests.”

  Bob looked distressed. “But what about my crisps?”

  At that moment Wingco and Soyoung entered the bar, Wingco looking agitated and perplexed, Soyoung looking very annoyed. “I must apologise Mr Soyoung. I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He’s just a little worked up about things. Captain’s day is very important and he is under a lot of stress. It’s a very trying time. Please accept my sincere apology.”

  Soyoung waved a dismissive hand and began gesturing frantically making a phone shape with his right hand. “Telephone? Yes, through that door there. I’ll just wait for you over, er … right.”

  Soyoung did not wait for Wingco to finish and still gesturing and muttering incomprehensibly stormed off into the locker room to find the telephone. Head hung low Wingco slowly approached the corner of the bar. As he neared Vic spoke to the worried man. “Problems Wingco?”

  “I’ll say. I’ve never heard Chris use language like that. Soyoung may not speak very good English but he understood the words Chris was hurling at him quite clearly. It was rather embarrassing. Not the sort of language I expect from a club captain.”

  “Have you got him down?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “No idea. Soyoung’s just ringing one of his technical people. I certainly hope they sort it out quickly. Chris was threatening unpleasant reprisals with a golf club. Most of them extremely distasteful and biologically impossible!”

  “That’s not like Chris. He’s usually so calm.”

  Henry banged the bar counter in triumph. “There you go. What did I say? Didn’t I say they’d be trouble?”

  “Said who’d be trouble?”

  “You mark my words. they’ll be taking over the place.”

  Wingco remained outwardly calm. “If you are alluding to the Eastern question again, we didn’t have a lot of choice. You heard the arguments, the club is pretty run down, we need a new sprinkler system, some of the greens need relaying, the course maintenance equipment needs replacing. Then there’s the leaks in the clubhouse roof…”

  “Even so. Couldn’t we have found a British company? Or European even? Its bad enough that every damn thing we buy is Japanese without letting them into our club as well. It’s sacrilege.”

  “You tell me where we could find a British company to sponsor us. Anyway, Japanese money is as good as any.”

  Soyoung returned still agitated and muttering. Though his words were indistinct one or two vaguely recognisable as he disappeared out of the bar watched by the others.

  Vic waved in the direction of the muttering man. “Shouldn’t you be following him Wingco?”

  “Probably, but I think it’s safer to stay here.”

  “Not exactly a brilliant start to relationships with our new sponsors is it?” Scoffed Henry.

  “If you have anything constructive to say Henry, I am more than ready to listen, otherwise I would be grateful if you would just shut up!”

  Bob shook his head in despair. “Tut … now Wingco’s losing his temper as well.”

  Henry glared challengingly at Bob. “As well as what?”

  “As well as …. you know.” Wingco nodded to the door Soyoung had just noisily slammed shut behind him.

  “Him too? Dear me.”

  Bill was shaking his head with amusement. “Perhaps he’s annoyed they haven’t got any bean shoot flavoured crisps which reminds me, whose turn to buy the drinks? Come on Henry, it must be your round by now.”

  “Must it? You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Henry thought long and hard watched with amuse­ment by the others. There had to be some way out of this predicament. Finally his face lit up as he was suddenly struck with an idea.

  “Wingco, what about the bottle of Scotch I won for correctly guessing the length of Chris’s drive? Can I have it now so we can celebrate?”

  “Strictly speaking, it should be presented by Chris.”

  Bill nudged Wingco teasingly. “He’s rather preoccupied at the moment.”

  “Please, don’t remind me.”

  Henry was becoming agitated. “So, what about it then?”

  “Oh, all right, I suppose you may as well have it now. Judging by the abuse Chris was hurling at Soyoung I don’t think he’ll be in a very giving mood when they finally get him down anyway. We might even be looking for a new captain. Oh dear, perhaps I had better go and find out what is happening.”

  Wingco began to leave much to the annoyance of the still waiting and impatient Henry. “Oi! Where are you going? What about my Scotch?”

  “Later Henry, later. I’ve got more important matters to attend to. I’ve got a murder to prevent.”

  With a frantic wave of his arms Wingco departed leaving an exasperated Henry. “Well I’ll be buggered.”

  “You certainly are now. You’ll definitely have to pay for the next round.”

  “But …..”

  Bill continued to wave his empty glass at Henry. “Never mind the buts Henry, cough up.”

  Reluctantly, Henry signalled to Colin who even more reluctantly came over to serve him. Colin’s attitude was unusually aggressive. “Yes Henry. And I warn you, any requests for funny flavoured crisps and I’m off.”

  “Same again please Colin. Oh, and go easy on the water.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? I do not water the Scotch.”

  Bill was concerned about the manic look on Colin’s face. “Just ignore him. We believe you.”

  Henry was grumpy and dismissive. “Speak for yourself. I’m not so sure.”

  Bill tried to calm things down. “If you really believe Colin is adulterating the Scotch, why do you drink so much of it?”

  “‘Cos it’s so weak it has no effect.”

  “Silly me. I should have guessed.”

  Something had been troubling Bob. “Scotch is made from water.”

  Bill looked at him slyly. “Scottish water?”

  “Yes.”

  “From Scotland?”

  “Yes.”

  “W
here they make Scotch whiskey?”

  “Yes. So there’s already water in it.”

  “No, no. They distil it so only the alcohol comes off.”

  “Do they? Oh. So what happens to all the water?”

  Henry leant over to whisper confidentially to Bob as Colin approached carrying the four drinks. “They ship it with the Scotch and Colin puts it back in.”

  Colin gave Henry an fierce stare. “There you go. Four Scotches. On the slate is it Henry?”

  “Please.”

  A highly amused Bill suddenly let out a loud mocking noise which puzzled Colin. “Something troubling you Bill?”

  “On the slate? This is Henry you’re talking about.”

  Colin shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, I only do what I’m told. If Henry runs up a slate he can’t afford it’s not my problem. It’s up to your committee to sort out. Isn’t that right Henry?”

  Henry was indignant. “Let’s have less of your cheek. Just remember your position here.”

  Colin’s mouth opened wide in disbelief. “What?”

  Remembering a recent incident, Vic swallowed loudly as he saw Colin’s look of anger. “Colin, I think I see someone signalling to you over there.”

  “Eh? Where? Ah, yes. Just coming sir.” Colin glared at Henry. “I’ll be back to deal with you later!”

  Thanks to Vic’s diplomatic intervention, Colin departed to the other end of the bar to serve another member. “Steady on Henry. You’ll get us all into trouble. Good stewards are difficult to come by.”

  “Huh! Pity we can’t find one. He should remember that he’s only the steward. He’s here to serve us not insult us. He’s certainly not here to adulterate the bloody Scotch.”

  “There is one way you could settle this dispute. You could get a sample of the Scotch analysed. Maybe then you’ll stop this feud with our steward and we can all breath more easily.”

  Bill shook his head. “An analysis? Henry wouldn’t waste good Scotch like that.”

  “Too right. I’m not wasting my bloody money. I’ll get the weights and measures people in. They’ll sort the bugger out.”

  Vic frowned. In this mood Henry was liable to do anything. “I think that’s taking things a bit too far. Its not as if anyone else is complaining.”

  “Too far? He’s the one taking things too far, passing off iffy Scotch. Its about time someone exposed him.”

  “But have you thought of the implications of calling in the weights and measures people? Suppose you are right and the scotch is being adulterated, the club could lose its licence. Then where would we be?”

  “There are other places to drink.”

  “Other places don’t allow credit. You would have to pay real money.”

  “I’d manage.”

  “What would you do, wash the glasses?”

  “Huh!”

  Vic abandoned further hope of trying to reason with Henry and a silence fell on the group. It was usual that at such moments Bob took the opportunity to speak.

  “Where does Colin store it?”

  Though relieved that the moment had been broken, Vic was none-the-less puzzled. “Where does Colin store what?”

  “The water that is sent down with the Scotch so that it can be added again.”

  Henry was still brooding. “In your bloody brain!”

  Bob was in a determined mood. “But you can buy bottled Scottish water. Its very useful stuff. I read somewhere that they use the hot water from the whisky distilleries to grow tomatoes. It heats the hot houses and waters the peat used for filtering the whiskey. That way they can grow tomatoes all year.”

  Bill smiled and shook his head. “Drunken tomatoes, the mind boggles. Now you’ve told us that Henry will be hitting the tomato sauce bottle.”

  “Oh no. Tomato sauce is usually made from Italian tomatoes. You know those funny shaped ones that taste like cardboard.”

  “There’s no end to the depths of your knowledge of life’s mysteries is there Bob?”

  “I was only telling you about tomatoes.”

  “Amazing!”

  Just then Soyoung rushed into the bar covered in black greasy marks and brandishing a large spanner. Watched with amusement by the others he continued his headlong charge to the locker room and the phone. Not long after could be heard the bad tempered shouting of Soyoung as he talked to his technical staff again. After a final angry yell the phone was slammed down and an angry Soyoung rushed back through the bar and outside.

  Vic nodded in the direction of where the tornado had just disappeared. “All does not appear to be well on the Eastern front.”

  Bill nodded in agreement. “Yes, looks like the infallible Japanese technology is fallible after all.”

  Bob was still a picture of studied concentration. “I’ve got some on my knee.”

  Bill looked curiously down at Bobs legs. “Now what are you talking about?”

  “Water. I’ve got some on my left knee. It swells up occasionally and gets painful.”

  It was too much for Henry who drained what was left in his glass and fell off his stool in an attempt to stand up. “Good grief! Keep my seat warm I’ll be back in a minute. All this bloody talk about water is too much for my bladder.”

  Bill watched as the teetering Henry tried to steady himself. “Sure its not just old age Henry? The cruel march of time. The slow but inevitable decline of bodily faculties. The loss of control of bodily functions, the ….”

  “Bog off!”

  “Its probably his prostrate. That’s certainly how he usually how he ends up.”

  Bob looked deeply concerned. “Have you got water-works problems as well Henry? You know I saw the doctor the other day….”

  Steady at last Henry thumped his stool and headed towards the door. “No I bloody haven’t got water-works problems!”

  Unnoticed by the others Colin had returned too late to confront Henry again. “Where’s trouble going?”

  A mischievous look appeared on Bill’s face. “Answering a call of nature. Said something about having to get rid of all the water you put in the Scotch.”

  “Did he? Right, that’s it. I’ve had enough.”

  Colin reached below the bar and produced an empty Scotch bottle which he proceeded to fill from a teapot. Fascinated the three men watched until Vic could no longer contain his curiosity. “Might we enquire as to what you are doing Colin?”

  “It’s one of those herbal teas the wife’s always drinking.”

  “What like dried grass or something?”

  “That’s it, dried something. The wife drinks it for her sluggish bowels. And very effective it is too. It’s got an alcohol base that’s supposed to help her stomach but she swears she never drinks.” Having complete the re-fill Colin held the bottle up in triumph to show the others. “There, it’s about the right colour. Do you think it will pass as Scotch?”

  Vic was becoming concerned at the ways things were developing. “You’re not going to do what I think you are going to do, are you?”

  “If you mean am I going to replace the bottle of scotch old moaner won with this, I most certainly am. Would you do the honours Bill?”. Colin handed the bottle to Bill who accepted the charge gleefully. “That should give him something to think about. After all, he keeps his brain in his backside. Should be good exercise for it.”

  As so the deed was done as Bill discretely switched the two bottles. He had barely managed to regain his seat at the bar when Wingco and a still agitated Soyoung re-entered. Soyoung was ruefully rubbing his head and muttering angrily to himself as Wingco led him by the arm. “This really is most unfortunate. I’m sure Chris didn’t mean to drop that on your head. Please let me offer you a drink. You must be exhausted after all that exertion.”

  Looking round in desperation Wingco had a sudden inspiration and marching swiftly over to where Henry’s prize Scotch was waiting, picked up the coveted bottle and returned to give it to Soyoung. “Please accept this with my compliments.”

  Soyoung
bowed and gave an incomprehensible but friendly reply.

  “Quite. Well then why don’t you come over and meet some of our members?”

  Spotting Vic, Bill, Bob still in the corner where he had earlier left them, Wingco headed in their direction closely followed by Soyoung who was admiring his new possession. Their arrival coincided with the return of Henry from the toilet. Wingco hesitated at the sight of the unpredictable man but the pre-occupied Soyoung had already reached the bar.

  “Now then, Mr Soyoung I would like you to meet four of our elder statesmen, Vic, Bill, Bob and er, Henry. Gentlemen this is the chairman of our new sponsors, Mr Soyoung.”

  Soyoung bowed in respect to each of the men who in turn each involuntarily nodded in reply. Formalities over, Soyoung waved the bottle and gestured indicating that he wished to give the four men a drink. Henry was the first to respond, quickly emptying his glass and proffering it to Soyoung to fill. “That’s very kind of you Mr Soyoung. Don’t mind if I do. I was just saying that we are very glad you have joined the club.”

  A common look of disbelief on everyone’s face was broken when Bob looked inquiringly at Bill. “But isn’t that the bottle …..”

  His reply was a sharp nudge in the ribs from Bill that nearly knocked him off his stool. “Sorry Bob, I didn’t see you sitting there.

  “But I’ve been sitting here all the time.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes, you spoke to me just now. I was telling you about the tomatoes.”

  “Oh right, sorry.”

  Despite this curious diversion Wingco noticed that the others were reluctant to offer their glasses to be filled. Fearful of the consequences of such a snub to the volatile Soyoung he grabbed the glasses from the bar himself. “Come on chaps, don’t be shy. Let’s be having your glasses.”

  As he collected the glasses for Soyoung to fill, Wingco noticed Colin standing nearby and looking rather furtive. “Colin, come and have a drink with Mr Soyoung.”

  “Certainly, thank you very much Mr Soyoung.”

  Discretely Bill tried to attract Colin’s attention and pointed emphatically to where the bottle of Scotch had been. A look of horror crossed Colin’s face as the significance of the gesture sunk in. Caught in the act of gesturing by the puzzled eyes of Wingco, Bill tried clumsily to pass it off by pretending to swat at an imaginary fly. “Damn flies!”