Tombola Gifts
it was no good throwing in the towel because of temporary set-backs. The Scottish Conservative Party would rise again and be the great force that it once had been in the affairs of the nation; it was only a question of time. And then people would be clamouring for tickets to the South Edinburgh Conservative Ball and he, Todd, would take great pleasure in turning them away.
After her husband had left for the Luffness Golf Club (Gullane, but not Muirfield), Sasha made her way into the dining room, where the prizes for the tombola were laid out on and around the large, four-leaf table. The members of the local party association had been generous, even if they had declined to attend the ball, and there were at least forty prizes waiting to be listed.
Sasha sat down at the head of the table and began to compile a catalogue and assign a number to each prize. These numbers would then be put into a hat, and those at the ball – and those alone – would then be permitted to buy the tickets.
She dealt first with the items on the table. There was a Thomas Pink shirt, in candy stripes, with a collar size of nineteen and a half.
Now this was a fine shirt, well-made and with double cuffs, but the collar size was rather large. Todd took size seventeen, and even that was sometimes a bit large for him; he was a big man and presumably this shirt would fit an extremely well-built man. Was there anybody in the Conservative Party quite that large? There was Mr Soames, of course, but he was probably the sort of man who had enough shirts already. So this might not be the most useful of prizes.
She assigned the shirt a number and turned to the next prize.
This was a set of six fish knives and forks, made by Hamilton and Inches, and a very handsome prize for somebody. This would be popular at a Conservative function, but would be useless at a Labour Party event. They had no idea, she believed, of the use MALCOLM RIFKIND & LORD JAMES: Sir Malcolm Rifkind (born 1946) is a prominent Conservative politician, living in Edinburgh, who served as Foreign Secretary in the government of Margaret Thatcher, later to become Secretary of State for Scotland. Lord James Douglas-Hamilton, after serving in the same government as a Member of Parliament at Westminster, is now a member of the devolved Scottish Parliament in Edinburgh.
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of fish knives and forks and used the same cutlery for everything.
That was part of the problem. The Liberal Democrats, of course, knew what fish knives and forks were all about, but pretended they didn’t care! Liberal Hypocrites, thought Sasha.
There were many other fine prizes. A digital radio, still in its box; a round of golf at the Merchants Golf Course; a large caddy of Old Edinburgh Tea from Jenners; and, now, what was this? –
yes, the finest prize of alclass="underline" lunch with Malcolm Rifkind and Lord James at the Balmoral Hotel! That was a splendid prize and it occurred to Sasha that she would dearly love to win that herself.
This thought made her abandon her task of cataloguing for a few minutes and ponder the implications of this tombola. If there were forty prizes and there were only going to be six people at the ball, then that meant that each person would get at least six prizes. That assumed, of course, that each person bought an equal number of tickets (which would be limited to forty in all). If that happened, then everybody present at the ball would do rather well, and would certainly win prizes which very much exceeded in value the cost of the ticket.
In these circumstances, Sasha reasoned, it would be per-missible, perhaps, for the organiser – herself – to ensure that sensitive prizes were won by the right people. Now that would mean that the round of golf should not go to Ramsey Dunbarton, 128
Bruce Prepares for the Ball
who was pretty unsteady on his legs and who could hardly be expected to play. So that, perhaps, could be directed towards Bruce, as a reward for agreeing to accompany Lizzie. Or perhaps, even more appropriately, he could win the dinner for two at Prestonfield House and take Lizzie with him, to give them a chance to get to know one another a bit better. That would be very satisfactory, and indeed the fairest outcome. The Ramsey Dunbartons could win the tea, which would suit them far better.
That left the lunch with Malcolm Rifkind and Lord James. In Sasha’s view, the best possible person to win that would be herself.
This was not because she was selfish, and wanted the glamorous prize, but because she wanted to protect the two generous donors from having to put up with Ramsey Dunbarton. It would be too much for them; they simply shouldn’t have to face it. And for this reason – the best of all possible reasons – Sasha decided that she would have to ensure that she won this prize herself.
50. Bruce Prepares for the Ball
When Bruce received Sasha’s call that morning – to invite him to pre-ball drinks at the house – he was about to leave 44 Scotland Street to buy himself a new dress shirt. His previous one, which had been a bargain, had washed badly, and looked grey, even under artificial light.
“There isn’t going to be a big crowd there,” said Sasha, “but the Braid Hills Hotel does a very good dinner, and I hear that the band is excellent.”
“How many are coming?” asked Bruce.
There was a short silence at the other end of the line. “Not many. Probably fewer than fifty.”
Bruce was polite. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. And I don’t like those really big affairs. You can’t hear what you’re saying to anybody.”
“We’ll have a lot of fun,” said Sasha.
He doubted that – at least for himself – but did not say Bruce Prepares for the Ball
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anything. With any luck, he thought, he might be able to get away shortly after twelve – Conservatives probably went to bed early – or at least Bruce’s parents, both members of the Crieff Conservative Association, tended to retire by ten. So if it all came to an end in reasonable time, he would be able to get to a club and see what was going on there.
“One thing,” said Sasha, before she rang off. “We’re having a tombola. We’ve been given a lot of good prizes, but if you can bring a little something along to add to it, please do.”
“I’ll try,” said Bruce.
He left the flat, feeling slightly restless. He found his life rather unsatisfactory at the moment. He had finished all the institute examinations, and so he was free of that particular burden, but it seemed as if nothing much else was happening.
Part of the trouble was the absence of a girlfriend. I need somebody to hang about with, he thought. I need company.
There was that girl in the flat, of course – Pat – but he found her a bit irritating. She seemed cool, indifferent even, although he suspected that this was a bit of an act. She’s probably pretty interested in me, he thought. She probably wants me to take notice of her, but the poor girl’s got a long wait ahead of her.
Far too young, too unsophisticated. Pretty green. As he walked up to George Street, he glanced at his reflection in the occasional shop window. What a waste, he muttered. There I am looking like that, and no girlfriend. What a waste.
The shirt purchased, he returned to Scotland Street and spent the afternoon on his bed, watching videos of classic rugby matches. There was Scotland against Ireland at Murrayfield of a few years previously – a great Scottish victory, with a fine try from a player whom Bruce had known at Morrison’s Academy.