‘Since I’ve been in Fethering I haven’t been aware of any—’
‘No, I’m sure you haven’t, and that’s because you’re not Jewish. You don’t hear the sniggers and the mumblings about the “chosen race” and “buckles”.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Rhyming slang. “Buckle my shoe – Jew.” Haven’t you heard it?’
‘No.’
‘You would have done if you were Jewish,’ said Josie bitterly. ‘Well, I’ve had to put up with that all my life. I thought maybe I’d put it behind me when I “married out”, but no, my bastard ex-husband turned out to have his own private brand of anti-Semitism.
‘And it’s not just me who’s suffered. Rosalie, my daughter, has had to put up with the same thing over the years. In her teens she joined the local tennis club and the Fethering Yacht Club – she used to be quite handy in boats. But I had to take her out of both clubs because of the way she was insulted there.’
‘Are you sure you weren’t—?’
‘If you’re about to say: am I sure I was not being hypersensitive – no, I was not!’
Jude, who had been about to say something on those lines, kept quiet as Josie Achter continued, ‘This country, England, so proud of its human-rights record, the diversity of its population, is still riddled with anti-Semitism. And it’s at its worst in a “nice, middle-class” area like Fethering.
‘So no, I don’t feel any sentimental attraction to the place. When I sell up, I’m going to move to Hove, where at least there is a substantial Jewish community, where we can gather together for self-protection.
‘I don’t know the precise reason for you setting up this meeting, Jude, but if it was in the hope that I might be ready to co-operate with your precious “action committee”, forget it. Also, don’t attempt to contact me again. If you ask to see me, I will refuse to see you. And, since everyone in this place has already categorized me as the hard-bitten grasping Jewess, then I’m going to live up to that stereotype. My only concern about Polly’s Cake Shop is that I sell it as soon as I can and that I get as much money for it as is humanly possible. I have no interest in what happens to the place after I move out.’
SEVEN
Carole was back at High Tor that Friday evening. Gaby had been checked over at the hospital in every possible way and passed as going through a normal pregnancy. But the sudden summons from Stephen, and the stay in Fulham, had unsettled her mother-in-law. They had reminded her of the potential perils of childbirth, and Carole knew she would not relax again (even to the small extent that she ever did) until the baby had safely arrived.
Jude was spending the weekend leading healing workshops at a Wellbeing Festival in Hastings so, apart from a quick handover of Gulliver on the Friday evening, the two women did not spend much time together. Though Carole was aware that Jude had attended the SPCS Action Committee on the Wednesday, she did not know that her neighbour had ended up being voted on to it. Nor that she had been delegated to talk to Josie Achter.
And because of the strict client confidentiality rules that Jude imposed on herself, she had not mentioned to Carole anything about Sara Courtney’s real – or perhaps hallucinatory – sighting of a dead body at Polly’s Cake Shop.
The second meeting of the SPCS Action Committee at Hiawatha, a fortnight after the first, was a smaller affair because only those who had been voted on were invited. Phoebe Braithwaite, who hadn’t been elected (her husband had been worried about opening himself up to charges of nepotism – or perhaps uxorism), lurked in the kitchen. The door was half open, so that she could in fact hear all of the committee’s proceedings – but more importantly be instantly ready when the Commodore demanded she produce refreshments for the assembled company.
There was one man sitting at the table who wasn’t a committee member, but from the way the Chair venerated him, it was clear that Quintus Braithwaite was very proud of his new social acquisition.
The man was around fifty, toned and tanned, as if he knew how to look after himself. He wore a blue linen suit over a coral-coloured open-necked shirt. On his wrist was a chunky gold watch, which even Jude, who had no interest in such things, could recognize to be very expensive.
Quintus Braithwaite hurried through the necessary early business – Item 1: Apologies (England must surely be the only country in the world where all meetings start with apologies) and Item 2: Signing the Minutes of the Last Meeting. Then, unable to contain himself any longer, he announced: ‘I would now like to introduce to you—’
‘On a point of order, Mr Chairman …’ The interruption came, inevitably, from Arnold Bloom.
‘Yes?’ said the Commodore testily.
‘According to the Agenda which was circulated to members – with great efficiency, may I say, by our secretary Wendy Roote – the next item after the signature of the minutes – “Item 3” – is not introducing an outsider to our committee. It is “Matters Arising”, meaning “Matters Arising from the Minutes of the Last Meeting”.’
‘I know what “Matters Arising” means, thank you, Arnold, but I think possibly the gentleman I am about to introduce has more relevance to the work of this committee than any pettifogging adherence to the order of the meeting’s Agenda.’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Chairman, but if you are describing me as “pettifogging”, I must ask you to withdraw the remark.’
‘I’m not describing you as “pettifogging”, I am describing the meeting’s processes as “pettifogging”.’
‘But,’ Arnold persisted, ‘we members of the committee represent the processes of this committee, and to describe those processes as “pettifogging” is tantamount to describing us as “pettifogging”.’
Commodore Quintus Braithwaite had never had a very long fuse, and Arnold Bloom’s arguments were shortening it by the minute. ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ he burst out.
But the voice of reason that interrupted him came from an unlikely source, the man in the blue linen suit whom he was so keen to introduce. ‘Listen,’ he said, ‘the last thing I want to do is to disrupt the normal business of your committee. Quintus, why don’t you go through the rest of the Agenda items in the normal way and then introduce me at the end?’
‘Well, because I …’ But the Commodore could recognize he was being offered a lifeline, and took it. ‘Very well.’ He looked down at the Agenda. ‘I’ll introduce you when we get to “Item 8 – Fundraising”. That would be appropriate.’
‘Sounds fine by me,’ said the man in the blue linen suit.
Arnold Bloom sat back comfortably into his Hiawatha armchair, another small victory registered.
Quintus Braithwaite rather grudgingly then went through Items 3 to 8. There were no ‘Matters Arising’ from the reading of the Minutes which would not be covered under future Agenda items. ‘Item 4’ was a subject which Arnold Bloom had managed to shoehorn in – ‘Location of Future Meetings’. This was a continuation of the discussion he had initiated at the previous meeting – whether the SPCS Action Committee should continue to meet at Hiawatha or in some other venue. Without actually saying that the Chair might benefit too much from home advantage and some of the weaker committee members might be over-impressed by his lifestyle and hospitality, Arnold did make a strong case for other meeting places to be considered.
Eventually, in the traditional cop-out favoured by all committees, it was decided to appoint a subcommittee to investigate alternative venues.
‘Item 5’ was ‘Publicity and Profile’. Lesley Tarquin immediately produced an iPad mini, to the consternation of some of the older committee members who were still using paper notebooks. ‘Well, I assessed the local publicity outlets,’ she said. ‘I’ve talked to Vince at the Fethering Observer and he’s virtually given me carte blanche to put in as much stuff about the SPCS Action Committee as we want to. We’ve left it that I just send him press releases and he’ll print them verbatim. I’ve contacted the West Sussex Gazette and Sussex Life, though the latter’s a monthly lifestyle magazine and might not be right for us. I’ve also followed up on local radio and I’ve got Jezza from FOAM FM virtually eating out of my hand. I’ve emailed Will at Radio Solent and Flick at Radios Surrey and Sussex, but haven’t heard back yet. Same goes for Barry at South Today and Fizz at Meridian. And obviously I’ve been busy on Facebook and Twitter.’