One of my favourite books by Charles Dickens is the Pickwick Papers. I love reading about old Pickwick's permabulation around the country and have an image of him as a rather rotund but jocular character much given to welcoming friends to harmonious meals in taverns. So it was yesterday with the Knitting Club's annual Christmas Lunch. Hosted by our President, Lady Dent-Uhre at the Red Dragon pub here in our little village.
This is the only occasion when spouses are actively encouraged to participate and thank heavens that they do. Lady D's brother, Lord Parshul Dent-Uhre co-hosted with her a veritable feast of good things. We organise matters thus: the members buy their own meals and the Dent-Uhre's pay for the drinks. We always have good champagne, first class red wine - this year a Chateauneuf du Pape and a wonderful Chablis - crisp, dry and very chilled. We gathered in the private dining room for a pre-lunch sherry and canapes. I must say that the pub did us proud. We had two waitresses, both young village girls know to most of us from their births - so they were on their very best behaviour - who brought us the merest mouthfuls of tiny biscuits with various exotic spreads - caviar, salmon, prawns, egg etc. We talked animatedly about past competitons and those yet to come. Lord Parshul made me quite giddy when he came over, slipped his arm through mine and saud "Well then Mavis. What's all this about getting chummy with Her Madge? Sit beside me at lunch I want to hear all about it". I could barely get my 'Thank you" out coherently. He is SO handsome. In his sixties now, but tall with a good head of silvery hair, a slightly ruddy complexion and a roman nose. Impeccably dressed. A fine hand made tweed jacket, with, I would say, Daks slacks and polished Oxford brogues. A pale green shirt and a club tie. He ran the family company after an apparently distinguished career in the Diplomatic service. I was pathetically silly I am afraid. Positively swooning as he pulled my chair out for me and ensured that I had everything that I required.
With my Adonis to my right I found the comfortable figure of our oldest member Annie Spriggs to my left. Annie is 94 and lives alone in a large cottage on a slight hill just on the outskirts of the village. Her Great Grandfather built the cottage in 1842 and created a steam ironworks for the manufacture of agricultural implements. A thriving business apparently which eventually closed in 1935. Annie is very deaf but good company. She goes to church every sunday in her old pony cart and her only concession to her age is that she now has her lawn mowed by her young grandson. "You're a lucky girl" Annie smiled at me. "Having his Lordship next to you". I confess that I simpered a little and my mind momentarily wandered to the perfect union of Lord Parshul and Lady Mavis graciously greeting our visitors at the Hall before dancing the night away together - eye only for each other. Silly girl, that dream did not last very long!
Lord Parshul listened attentively whilst I explained our wonderful visit to Windsor Castle and just how close we came to winning. But Her Majesty personally saw us off with her wonderful cakes. He laughed politely at the image of me stuck in my curtsey and told me how when he was a young man in Japan he had met the then Emperor, bowing so low that he split the back of his waistcoat. How I loved that little secret being shared with me. I slowly demolished my prawn cocktail starter whilst he told me more about his experiences in the Diplomatic Service. The romance of the balls and parties. The fear to one's own safety at revolutions and uprisings. Meeting Idi Amin in Uganda and how his sole thought was "Hope that he's not hungry. I don't fancy being lunch"! Such a charming and elegant host. I felt thoroughly indulged. I also noticed that a number of other ladies there, even those accompanied by their own husbands, cast green eyed looks towards me. Chief amongst them was my very own best friend - Mildred.
Mildred's broken ankle meant that she had to sit at the end of the table with her leg extended. Either side of her sat two of the mousier ladies and I could see that Mildred, who tends to be a little larger than life, was not getting a great deal of satisfactory conversation from them. I knew that she would give me the silent treatment when we got home, but what could I do. Lord Parshul asked me to sit beside him. I would be very rude to have refused. I had chosen salmon for my main course - "so wise" breathed Lord P in my ear - whilst Mildred had gone for the traditional turkey roast. I have to say that the salmon was a little on the dry side but at least it was not smothered in gravy like poor Mildred's meat. She sat there looking grumpy and I could see that she had a mischievous look in her eye that spelled trouble! The poor ladies either side of her did not see the tell tale signs; but as soon as that plum pudding was eaten and the coffee and mince pies were served it began.
Mildred has taken to chewing cigars! I had never seen her light one before. However, she helped herself to a large glass of port - she does not handle port well. Always gets a huge headache afterwards - pulled out a large Havana cigar and proceeded to light it! Nobody in the Knitting Club smokes and it is illegal in the UK to smoke in licensed premises. However, a large cloud of smoke slowly wafted up to the aged ceiling and hung around the beams as a stunned silence descended on the rest of us. Mildred took a deep draught and I watched the end glow red and warm. Lady D started to protest but Lord P called out "Good show Mildred. Cigars all round I think". Of course the only person with a cigar was Mildred so she offered it to Lord P. He strode the length of the room took it from her and took a long drag. "Marvellous. One in the eye for those blessed busybodies in Parliament" he exclaimed. Mildred looked across at me and I confess that I dissolved into giggles. Soon we all were laughing uproariously and between them, Lord P and Mildred finished off the cigar whilst swigging port. As if by magic the atmosphere relaxed and a very happy hubbub enveloped us for the next hour before we donned our hats and coats, kissed everyone and headed for home.
I pushed Mildred home in her wheelchair. "You had to spoil it" I scolded her. But deep down I loved her for her rebellious nature and realised as we stoked up the fire in our little house just how much we have together and how really happy we are together. Lord P dropped by last evening with the remains of the port. Midlred was snoring but he and I had a small glass each and agreed what a lovely day it had been. He gave me a little peck on the cheek as he left. So dashing. Really it is the season to be merry.
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