Ah, Mary dear, so glad you are here. I just need you to witness my application form with your signature.
What’s this for Agatha?
Well, Muirfield Golf Club of course.
Golf! You haven’t taken a swipe at a ball for many years dear heart. Why now?
Because, I vowed to be one of the first ladies to join the club when they overturned their archaic ruling not to allow women members. I wanted to be at the forefront of the revolution to see skirts abounding across the greens.
Jolly good show. When do you plan to visit and sink a few balls then?
I thought we could trundle up there together at the weekend. Are you free? I can get Snetter to drive us in the Daimler so we should be comfortable. And we can stop in Oxford to buy some proper golfing shoes with little spikes in. Good for the grip don’t you know.
That sounds totally spiffing Agatha. The Count is a visiting cousin in Italy at the weekend so I would love to join you. Is there not a waiting list?
Funnily enough, there is. But I have an old chum who can sign me in as a guest for now. Do you remember Dougal Mactwittle? He used to play the drums at our annual WI tea dance. He always looked so splendid in his kilt twirling his sticks about.
Of course I do. He always caused a stir, sitting up on the stage, legs akimbo, pounding away with his sticks. It never seemed to be his drum skills that caused the sensation if I remember correctly. I do remember that one time when Dorothea Andrews was quite in a swoon, simply saw what she’d never seen before, if I remember correctly.
Yes, very Aunt Ada Doom dear one, but I do hear that she is quite the liberated woman now. I believe she even did some work for Good Housekeeping testing ladies toys of some kind I believe.
By jingo, good for her! That might explain the new glow she seems to have these days.
Well, as I was saying, whilst Dougal’s undergarments were somewhat lacking, his golfing skills are still rather top notch. Anyway, he seemed surprised that I wanted to join the golf club at all, saying that it will take quite some time to move on from their rather Victorian culture.
Well, that’s as may be but unless we keep persevering and pushing through barriers nothing will change at all and we’ll all become quite invisible.
Indeed so Mary dear. If I can wield a club and knock of few of those crusty old codgers off their pedestals it will be effort well spent.
Oh splendid Agatha, quite spiffingly splendid! A jolly caper north of the border before we have to start using passports will be just the ticket.
Yes, indeed. Goodness knows what the next few years will bring – maybe there’ll be another great wall between us and Scotland if they decide to leave us.
Goodness, we certainly live in worrying times dear one, but Agatha let us not lose hope. Let us not drown in the sorrows of the world, let us rise above them and together challenge the oppressors and blow raspberries in their faces, let us not go into that dark night alone….
Oh Mary dear, do stop – you’ve gone quite Winston Churchill on me. You’ve worked yourself up into quite a lather. Here, have one of Ethel’s delicious éclairs. The cream is quite delicious you know and besides you have your wonderful trip to Bangkok and beyond to look forward to.
Oh yes, we have already started packing. I dug out my old bikini yesterday. It was a bit the worse for wear after our wonderful trip to Egypt last year. It still had sand in the cups.
Goodness, that sand did find it’s way into the most inconvenient places. Why don’t you treat yourself to a new one, after all you don’t want to end up like Peggy in The Archers with nothing to cover her modesty but her arms and the water!
I say Agatha, you’ve got a point there. The problem is the construction… you know perfectly well that there’s a limited range in the shops for my endowment. We may have to go back to our dear lady at Rigby & Peller to see whether they can assist with an architectural project that will keep my frontage in check.
Well at least you still have the courage to wear a bikini. I haven’t revealed my midriff since 1984. And as for my thighs – well you know I make full use of my sarong at all times. One really must consider one’s public you know.
I believe there is simply no point in caring what others think any more. We are well into our dotage, Agatha dear, and I do not give a jot about fitting into some outdated stereotype of what a woman’s body should look like. Mine has served me perfectly well for years.
By jove Mary, long may it continue to do so. But remember when we were on the deck of our Nile cruiser last year? We did elicit some alarm from some French tourists. You know how slim they all are. One poor lady choked on her Bellini when you whipped off your towel.
I do believe she was jealous! Besides, they quickly became distracted when you dived in to rescue poor Binky; but you have given me an idea – perhaps I shall just go topless as they do in France – n’est pas?
Mary dear, Europe may be sad to see us leave, but I’m not sure if the world is quite ready for your unfettered frontage.
You might be right Agatha. Perhaps we should call for some more tea and start to plan our route up to Scotland. Wouldn’t it be fun to drop in on our dear friends Olive Croissant and Fanny Chevaux on our way?
What a splendid idea. I am given to understand that they have expanded their cat’s home to incorporate training in acrobatics.
Acrobatics! For cats?
Yes indeed. Who knew our furry friends could be so adept on the pommel horse and the parallel bars. The mind quite boggles.
Quite. Although perhaps the two ladies could be losing their grip on reality.
No really, I have seen the photographs. They do shows and are thinking about touring the country. In fact they have been in touch with our dear Author friend Eileen who has been studying acrobatics in China. She is flying back to give a masterclass.
How wonderful. Tea dear?
Lovely. Chin chin.