plumped for a purple, pink and yellow silk jacket and skirt, with a lilacsilk top and large lilac bows in her hair. Neville wore a dark suit.
âRita!â he said. âThereâs tea or champagne, except there isnât any tea yet.â
âChampagne then?â said Liz. âOr does that clash with your image as a Labour councillor?â
âI donât deal in images, Liz,â said Rita. âI deal in truth and justice. Oh Lord, that sounds pompous. I hope in time Iâll learn to be serious without being pompous. Champagne, please.â
Eric Siddall, barman supreme, sidled up as if on castors. âThere you go, madam,â he said, handing Rita a glass. âJust the job. Tickety-boo.â
âThank you, Eric,â said Rita. âEric! Are you working here now?â
âAs of last Monday fortnight, madam,â said Eric. âThere was ⦠letâs say there was a clash of personalities at the golf club.â He flung a hostile glance towards the bluff, egg-shaped Graham Wintergreen.
âIâm sorry to hear that, Eric,â said Neville. âI noticed youâd gone of course.â
âThank you, sir.â
Eric excused himself, leaving them regretting that they hadnât asked him to elaborate.
âSo â¦â said Neville, â⦠how are you faring, Rita?â
âIn what way?â
âWell ⦠in life. At home. The evenings. The nights. Without â¦â
âNeville!â said Liz.
âWithout what?â asked Rita. âGerry? Any man? Sex?â
âNo! Well, yes.â
âNeville!â
âIâm faring well. Iâm not the sort of woman who feels incomplete without a man.â
âIs that a dig at me?â said Liz.
âNo,â said Rita. âGood heavens, no, Liz. Weâre friends now.â
âAh.â
âSubject closed. Feminist speeches over.â Rita did try to leave it at that. âI just hate the idea that without marriage men are fine but women arenât. Men seem to have managed to project the idea that bachelors are admirable and spinsters are pathetic.As if marriage was an institution for the benefit of women, when itâs clearly almost entirely for the benefit of men.â
âI see corduroyâs staging a revival,â said Neville.
âWhat?â Rita and Liz were as united in their bemusement as they had ever been in their lives.
âI read somewhere that corduroy is making a comeback. I was steering us towards safer waters,â explained Neville. âSorry.â
âNo. Youâre absolutely right,â said Rita. âLetâs try and avoid ructions of any kind, just this once.â
Sandra entered hurriedly and inelegantly with a large pot of tea and a large jug of hot water.
âSorry about that,â she said to the Badgers, âbut heâs a right dozy haâpâorth, him.â
âSandra!â Rita sounded appalled.
âOh Lord.â So did Neville.
âWhatâs wrong?â Sandra plonked the tea and water down and picked up the milk jug.
âYouâll see,â said Liz.
Ted entered with Corinna.
Sandra dropped the milk jug onto the cups.
âSheâs seen,â said Liz.
Ted also looked thunderstruck. âOh heck. Thatâs torn it,â he said. âCome on, Corinna. Letâs leave. Itâs best. I mean, it is. Isnât it?â
But his vision in orange was made of sterner stuff. âI donât want to leave, Ted,â she said. âI enjoy champagne. And Iâm not frightened of a waitress. My fatherâs a bishop.â
Corinna Price-Rodgerson marched forward resolutely. Ted had no option but to follow.
âTed! Corinna!â Nevilleâs enthusiasm for welcoming new arrivals was a bottomless well. âTea or champagne?â
âChampagne for me, please,â said Corinna.
âThere you go, madam,â said Eric Siddall,
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