Free Clubbed to Death by Ruth Dudley Edwards Page A

Trueman. As for ffeatherstonehaugh’s, well, what d’you want to know? Damned if I could make out quite what’s going on and I’ve been trying hard enough.’
    ‘But you’re the chairman,’ said Milton.
    The Admiral reached for the pipe that lay on the table beside him, took out a tobacco pouch, filled the pipe carefully, lit it, sucked in the smoke and blew it out luxuriously. ‘I think I’d better tell you the whole story right from the beginning.’
    He settled back in his armchair and put his feet on the coffee-table. ‘I was very fond of ffeatherstonehaugh’s from the time I was introduced to it by a pal of mine in the late 1940s. I’d been to sea for a few years. I was in my late twenties and, like any sailor, I liked a good time when I was on leave. You’re too young to remember, but that was the time of austerity. There was still rationing, it was nearly impossible to get a decent meal in London, and the whole atmosphere was very puritanical. My pal Pinkie Blenkinsop took me one night to ffeatherstonehaugh’s.’
    ‘This is Commander Blenkinsop?’
    ‘That’s right,’ said the Admiral, ‘but he was fun in those days. Not the opinionated old soak he’s become. Anyway, I’d never come across a place like it. The food was magnificent, because it was supplied from members’ country estates; the service was marvellous, because the staff were so well treated.’ Milton and Pooley caught each other’s eyes and tried not to register disbelief. ‘They were so well paid too, that even at a time of servant shortage people were queuing up to work there. The building hadn’t been touched in the war, the wine-cellar was intact and the whole atmosphere was one of joyousness and laughter. It could be a bit vulgar, I grant you, but Rabelaisian, nothing nasty.’ He puffed furiously on his pipe and gazed dreamily at the ceiling. ‘The first night was better fun than I think I’d ever had. We had a great feast and lots to drink and afterwards there were recitations and a great singsong, and those that wanted to played poker. It wasn’t like one of those stuffy clubs where the only card game you’re allowed to play is bridge, and it’s threepence a hundred. And although women weren’t provided – it wasn’t a brothel or anything – you could bring them in if they were good fun, and if they stayed over, a blind eye was turned. It was not like most gentlemen’s clubs, if you know what I mean. It seemed to be run for the benefit of chaps who wanted a good time – not chaps who wanted to re-create their public schools. No silly rules. You could wear what you liked and the only bans were on people being boring or obnoxious. It was fun, it had style: I thought it was paradise. I joined that night. That was another thing about ffeatherstonehaugh’s. Most clubs, you have to go through a long rigmarole of being proposed and seconded and vouched for by other members and having your background scrutinised, and weeks and months go by before you’re elected. With ffeatherstonehaugh’s, if you came in as a guest and they liked you, you could be elected by acclamation on the spot.’ He fell into a reverie.
    After a few moments Milton remarked, ‘it sounds extremely pleasant, sir. Rather more lively than it would appear to be nowadays.’
    The Admiral jerked himself back into consciousness of his surroundings. ‘By God, you’re telling me,’ he said. ‘Bloody place is like a morgue nowadays.’ He stood up and went over to an escritoire and took a piece of paper out of a drawer. ‘I photocopied this a few weeks ago. It’s a poem by a fellow called the Earl of Rochester that used to be recited when someone was elected. It’s a bit rude, but it’ll give you an idea of the club ethos then: it’s called “The Debauchee”.’ He handed the sheet to Milton.
I rise at eleven, I dine about two,
I get drunk before seven, and the next thing I do
I send for my whore, when for fear of a clap
I dally about her, and