Leaving the garrulous grannies to their reminiscing, Ophelia ascended the stairs in search of the drinks cabinet.
As she did so, she heard raucous shouting coming from one of the rooms above her.
Unbeknownst to Ophelia, there was considerably more than music going on in the music room. In fact, there was no music going on at all and instead, Cedric, who had been specifically instructed by his daughter Doris to stay away from the bottle, had organised a game of poker with some of Agar Hall’s male members.
Having numerous grandchildren already and considering the whole childbirth thing to be decidedly distasteful, the plight of poor Joyce couldn’t be further from Cedric’s mind and he’d only turned out on Doris’ insistence. And he was sober, so no one could point the finger at him.
Had Doris and Joyce not been otherwise occupied, they would have been horrified to learn that cards were being played for money in Agar Hall – something that had been strictly and explicitly forbidden by Joyce.
Only gentle Tommy had any qualms about their antics, but he was far too shy to say anything.
Well, he might be shy, he thought to himself, but at least he’d had the good sense to advise his pals not to fall for Cedric’s proffered book on the gender of his grandchild-to-be, since it would most certainly be a girl, as all Grecon babies were.
Luckily for Cedric, since she would undoubtably have wiped the floor with he and his friends at poker, Ophelia was distracted by Scrag when she reached the landing. The forlorn-looking dog was stood whining and looking anxiously at the dinging room door. Ah, she thought, Rabbie. And the drinks cabinet no doubt!
To be continued…
© 2017, Zoe. All rights reserved.