Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure;
Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the poor.
CHAPTER 61 STOKE PARK
Colonel Valentine Walter drove between the red brick lodge gates, past Greys memorial, and across the golf course, winding his way beside the lake, opposite the old church, beneath tall trees, leafless but for mistletoe.
Parking outside the palatial club house was full of flash motors. Show biz and new money, the lot of them. Well, probably, some of them anyway.
The side parking had a few spaces so in he drove. His car was rather small and sensible compared to most of them. It would not attract the notice of any well maintained woman walking over from the huge gymnasium. He tried not to stare at all that Lycra or whatever it was they used these days. They may as well be naked. Be damned cold if they were though.
He got out, pulled his over coat after him, blipped the locks and called his brother. “I'm in the car park James.”
“Val. Jolly good, come on in.”
“Don't I have to sign in or something?”
“I'll meet you at the steps.”
“Right.”
And there he was. “James. You’re looking well.”
“And you Val, come on in.” they walked through a porch big as a suburban house, into an even bigger lobby. “This is my brother Colonel Valentine Walter, my guest for lunch.”
“Yes Sir James,” said the receptionist, a striking woman, obviously under orders to tone it down in a severe black suit. Probably a uniform since another girl wore something similar.
“Come through to the orangery.”
Colonel Valentine followed his brother under the marble stairs, between the marble pillars of the great hall, past paintings of the Pyramids and Petra.
“Here we are, by the windows I think, take a seat,” said Sir James
“Thanks.” Colonel Valentine Walter sat in a huge gold dralon upholstered easy chair and looked between brocade curtains over the lake towards the old church.
Men were in the bar on the right. This orangery lounge was mostly elderly couples with pots of tea, and the teenage children of members. Girls who tried not to look at themselves in all the gilt mirrors, and boys who'd catch sight of themselves and try to stand taller.
A shapely mum was showing off her latest baby to a coven of cooing and aaahing women.
“You haven't asked about Mother,” said Colonel Valentine Walter.
“I haven't had much time,” said Sir James “It's good of you to look after her. I wish I had the time.”
“Maybe you'd have more time if you hadn't been divorced.”
“Oh Val, for Gods sakes. That was all years ago. I was stupid. I lost the love of......Well, it was a long time ago. We have to move on. I am very busy these days, as you know.”
“I know.”
Teenage girls, together on settees, were looking over each others shoulders, whispering and giggling at their phone and PDA screens.
The baby was laid back in a pram with big chrome wire wheels.
“So how is Mother?” asked Sir James Walter.
“We are worried about
leaving her alone. She goes into the kitchen and turns things on. At
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