Continued…

With Joyce safely enjoying an early night, Rabbie was in high spirits.

The long-anticipated ‘Event’ had arrived at last and the menfolk of Grecondale were assembled in the Club Room, situated in the attic of Agar Hall.

The menfolk of Grecondale… and one lady that is. No one would dare to leave Ophelia out of such an event.

Just now she was trouncing Cedric at the billiard table. “Get yer money ready, Cedders old man,” she gloated as she lined up the cue ball to take the shot that would surely win her the game.

Ophelia executed the shot perfectly, “Come on then you old dog, hand over the cash!” she crowed as she blew the the chalk off the the end of her cue triumphantly

“Damn it, Ophelia, where did you learn to play like that?” replied Cedric, crossly throwing a crisp ten pound note onto the table.

“Vagas, Cedric, 1923, I was in the chorus line at…” started Ophelia but before she could get any further she was interrupted by a loud clearing of the throat by Rabbie.

“Weel, ah think it’s aboot time wi got started wi the main event ma friends,” he announced, deliberately cutting Ophelia off before she had them all blushing. “Noo if wi ken hev two strong lads to poot the top back on te yon wee table,” he continued, looking around for volunteers.

Tommy and Atkins stepped forward and deftly hefted the top back onto the billiard table.

The pair were then dispatched to retrieve the crate of whiskey that, earlier that day, had been smuggled from its hiding place in the back of Grecondale Motors, lugged up the fire-escape and secreted on the parapet of Agar Hall.

“By heck, Tommy, ah’s jiggered,” said Atkins when the crate had been safely deposited on the hearthrug, “Reet enough,  mucker, reet enough,” agreed Tommy.  But they were soon revived by a “wee dram” and with that, all was in place to start The Main Event.

To be continued…

 

 

© 2018, Zoe. All rights reserved.