discrepancy?’
‘Perhaps one of the people got it wrong,’ I suggested.
Bernard gave me a cold stare. ‘I will, of course, check what I can at the County Record Office. I have made an appointment to see some of the relevant material on Wednesday, but it would have been helpful if we could have settled such matters first.’
‘I’m very sorry,’ I said defensively, ‘but I’m afraid I’ve never really given much thought to any of this.’
‘That, so often, is the problem,’ Bernard said, ‘and that is how valuable information is lost, simply by default.’
I didn’t feel able to comment on this so I said, ‘Oh, before I forget, I must give you the details of the talk at Brunswick Lodge. It was so good of you to help us out at such short notice. I think the best thing will be for you to have a word with Anthea Russell who’s in charge of the whole thing. I’ve written her address and telephone number down for you.’
I handed him the piece of paper and thought with some satisfaction of the conversation that would ensue: Anthea’s acerbic manner versus Bernard’s impervious self-satisfaction.
Fortunately, after that they did actually go, not, however, without Bernard promising to give me the full details of his research at the County Record Office.
‘How lovely,’ I said faintly, waving them off with false bonhomie at the front door.
I closed the door behind them, resisting a temptation to lock and bolt it in case they came back, and went and made myself the cup of tea I should have offered them, but hadn’t.
I spent the next few days answering the telephone cautiously in case it was Bernard. I did hear from Anthea.
‘That cousin of yours doesn’t half go on,’ she said. ‘I told him the talk can’t be more than half an hour and then half an hour for questions. You know what the over-60s are like. An hour is about as much as they can manage. After that they get restive and want their tea and biscuits.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘you’ll be in the chair, won’t you? And I’m sure you’ll be able to control the timing. You’re always so good at that sort of thing.’
Which is perfectly true. I’ve known Anthea ruthlessly cut short a very eminent musicologist in full flow when she thought he’d overrun his time.
‘Oh, by the way, Sheila,’ Anthea went on, ‘I don’t suppose you could make a couple of your sponges. Biscuits are all right for coffee mornings but I always feel
cake
is more suitable in the afternoon.’
Feeling that I’d got off lightly from the whole affair I agreed to make the cakes, as Anthea knew very well that I would.
When I took the sponges along to Brunswick Lodge on the afternoon of Bernard’s talk, I saw that Anthea had also ‘persuaded’ other people to provide a chocolate cake, a large ginger cake and a dozen iced fairy cakes.
‘Oh, there you are, Sheila.’ Anthea appeared suddenly in the kitchen. ‘I’d like you to make the tea – if you sit at the back you can just slip out five minutes before the end and get things going.’
‘Yes, of course.’ I’d planned to sit at the back anyway and I was delighted to have a valid excuse for ‘slipping out’.
‘Most of the cups are set out already,’ Anthea said, ‘but you’ll need to fill the sugar bowls and get the milk out of the fridge in good time. It’s such a pity,’ she went on, ‘that we haven’t been able to raise funds for a new tea urn.’
I made a non-committal noise in reply, thanking heaven that I wouldn’t be required to wrestle with one of those temperamental monsters. ‘Oh, those large teapots are fine,’ I said, ‘it’s just a bit slower that’s all.’
‘Perhaps I’d better get Peggy Broom to help you,’ Anthea said, ‘or there’ll be an immense queue and people will get restless.’
‘Oh, I expect I can manage.’
‘Well if you’re sure. I’d better go and see if Denis has put the chairs out properly.’
There was a good audience for