Pageant of Murder, page 23
part #38 of Mrs Bradley Series
“Ah, that’s it, fireworks,” said Councillor Selby. “A set piece of the Queen to finish up with, and we could floodlight the Mayor in his chain and robes and get a couple of planes to write Brayne For Ever right across the sky.”
“Followed by singing Auld Lang Syne.”
“Abide With Me, I reckon.”
“Lead, Kindly Light ’ud be more like it, wouldn’t it?”
“Procession of boats on the river, with lanterns and that, and the Eton Boating Song.”
“Why the Eton Boating Song? Eton’s nothing to do with us,” said Councillor Beaton.
The Councillor who had suggested it hummed the tune.
“I thought that was the old-fashioned waltz,” said Beaton. “I done some of my courting to that tune.”
“Never mind that,” said Councillor Briggs. “What about a daylight procession of narrow-boats on the canal, with prizes for the best decorated?”
“You’d never get the bargees wised up to it in time,” objected Councillor Yaffle.
“Look here,” said Councillor Perse, “if you really want to keep Brayne’s name on the map, why shouldn’t the Council make an offer to buy Squire’s Acre, and hand it over to the National Trust?”
There was a momentary silence. It was broken by the chairman.
“Well,” he said, “I must say I like that idea, but what would it run us into? It’s the ratepayers’ money, you know.”
“We should need to buy the grounds as well as the Hall,” said Alderman Mrs Skifforth, “and turn them into a public park.”
“Why the National Trust? We could develop the Hall for dances and receptions and that, and make a bit of money,” said Councillor Selby. “Get it licensed, p’raps.”
“Serve teas on the terrace and the lawn.”
“Put down some tennis courts and a couple of bowling greens.”
“Let the art club give an annual exhibition in the long gallery.”
“Use it as a skittle alley.”
“We’ve always wondered where a branch library could be put. This is the answer,” said Perse.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs Batty-Faudrey wouldn’t be thankful to be quit of the place. She don’t live there any more, so she might consider a really reasonable figure,” said Councillor Yaffle.
“We could name it Brayne Old Hall. That would keep the borough on the map, I reckon,” said Councillor Beaton.
“Have to do it before this ruddy merger comes in, then, otherwise Gistleward and Hansbury Heath might want to have a finger in the pie,” said Councillor Briggs.
“If we do it, they’ll never get over it!”
“Brayne Old Hall! We must tie the new name up legal. I bet Gistleward won’t half be wild!”
“A truce to this inter-tribal warfare,” said Mr Perse. “Does anybody know what kind of figure Mrs Batty-Faudrey is likely to have in mind, if we can persuade her to sell Squire’s Acre?”
“If she knows it’s for the Council, she’ll stick the price up,” said Councillor Selby.
“Then we must approach her privately,” said Mr Perse.
“As through who?” asked the chairman, suspiciously, noting a smirk of self-approval on Mr Perse’s countenance. “Well, we can report all this to the full Council. Meanwhile, I declare the meeting closed. Well, thank you, Councillor Selby. I don’t mind if I do.”
—«»—«»—«»—
[scanned anonymously in a galaxy far far away]
[converted to html from v1 rtf, emdashes restored, but without reference to print - v1.5, html]
[August 13, 2006]
Gladys Mitchell, Pageant of Murder
