Free Captain's Day by Terry Ravenscroft

duties in the Nearest the Pin competition as a very poor second to feasting later on their packed lunch of Mrs Rattray’s special cucumber and smoked salmon sandwiches, Mrs Quayle’s delicious homemade quiche and Mrs Salinas’s fairy cakes. Washed down with Darjeeling tea from Mrs Quayle’s flask. Mrs Salinas’s flask carried morning coffee for the ladies, Mrs Rattray’s a refreshing iced fruit cup. On the way to their destination the ladies chatted and chattered.
    “ Well I don't think you can beat Marks and Spencers for curtains,” said Mrs Quayle.
    “ Debenhams are very good,” offered Mrs Rattray.
    “ Oh Debenhams are excellent,” agreed Mrs Salinas. “I bought my dining room curtains from Debenhams.”
    “ The ones with the plates on?” asked Mrs Quayle.
    “ No, that's my kitchen curtains. They were from Littlewoods. No, my Debenhams curtains have teapots on them.”
    “ But of course they do!”
    “ But then Debenhams don't sell food, do they,” observed Mrs Rattray. “So if you're shopping for food and curtains you're better off going to Marks, as you can get both at the same time. Whereas if you go to Debenhams you can't do that.”
    “ Or Primark,” said Mrs Quayle.
    “ Or Primark,” agreed Mrs Rattray.
    Now, emerging from behind a small hillock on the edge of the fairway, Abbott, running as though his very life depended on it, which may well have been the case, pursued some thirty yards behind by Dean Shawcross, came into view heading in the direction of the clubhouse and beyond it the exit from the course. The spectacle of a fat red-faced pensioner being chased by a completely naked eighteen-year-old is a sight not often seen on a golf course, but far from stopping the ladies in their tracks they didn't even break stride.
    “ Good morning, gentlemen,” Mrs Salinas trilled, before continuing with more important matters. “British Home Stores are quite good for curtains, too,” she opined, switching in a trice the whole of her attention back to Mrs Quayle and Mrs Rattray and the soft furnishings retail industry.
    “ And light fittings,” said Mrs Quayle, whose attention had never left the soft furnishings retail industry, despite seeing a young man in full frontal mode.
    “ Oh yes, their light fittings are excellent,” agreed Mrs Rattray. “They’re the absolute best for light fittings, I got my uplighter from British Home Stores. They do a very tasty prawn sandwich too, excellent mayonnaise.”

    Mr Captain was making his way back to the first tee after having paid a visit to the beer tent. Drinks wouldn't be served until the first threesome of Arbuthnott, Bagley and Chapman arrived there after completing the ninth hole, in around an hour's time, but he had wanted to assure himself that everything there was shipshape and Bristol fashion. After all, it would be the venue where he would be entertaining no less a personage than His Worshipful the Lord Mayor of Sunnymere, who was scheduled to arrive at eleven twenty, and he didn’t want to risk anything being less than perfect for the occasion. If Captain's Day was the highlight of Mr Captain's year of office then the Mayoral visit would be the piece de resistance of his Captain's Day.
    There had never before been a Mayoral visit in the entire one hundred and ten year history of Sunnymere Golf Club. Mr Captain had checked. There had been members of the golf club who had been Lord Mayor, indeed one of them had been Lord Mayor at the same time as he had been captain, but that was an altogether different thing, so the first ever Mayoral visit would be a huge feather in his cap. His Worship would be paying only a flying visit, true, between opening the new council-funded skateboard & tattooing centre and closing the council-run old folks’ home due to lack of resources, but he would of course be returning in the evening to be guest of honour at the dinner and dance.
    Mr Captain had his wife to thank for coming up with the idea. Millicent