Bunty Takes Sanctuary at the Manor

HENLEY REGATTA

   Crichton had been coming back from the gym very bucked after he discovered the rowing machines.

   ‘Anything is better than the awful bikes,’ he declared, ‘and it’s put me in mind of my halcyon Cambridge days.’

I remember he once coxed an eight in the May bumps, but it hardly makes one an expert. Either way he was very keen to go to Henley, so he was straight up to the attic, crashing about looking for his striped blazer. Douglas assured him that everybody will be wearing one and Crichton could see no reason to be different. He’s always loved dressing up. It turned up eventually, in Pa’s old cabin trunk and despite the moths having taken a bite or two out of the lapels, he thought that it would do quite well. 

 ‘If I wear a rose in my button hole no one will notice,’ he declared.

I had my doubts not least because it was too tight to do up the buttons and the sleeves were at least three inches too short, but I took it to the cleaners in the village anyway. The nice lady with the curly hair turned out the pockets and found a condom wrapper (Featherlight for extra sensitivity. Best Before Nov 1986). Even more embarrassing, a small black and white photograph of Crichton and myself. I remember we had squeezed into a booth at the railway station after a very late night. I have a bubble perm and Crichton is sporting the very same jacket. 

We both look very young and more than a little worse for wear.  

Henley was sweltering all day and the traffic deadly. We cued for an absolute age on Remenham Lane but eventually we gave up and  Stubbins dropped us off at the Upper Thames club and we walked along the tow path enjoying the crowds. I’ve never seen so many gorgeous young men with tight buttocks and equally tight trousers. All shapes and sizes in every colour of the rainbow. The array of  blazers made Crichton’s navy and pink stripe look almost dull. I had decided to make an effort to coordinate with him, so wore the cerise shift dress and jacket that I’d bought for Tom and Milly’s wedding with never got an outing, because she called it off. Crichton said I looked nice, but he always says that. Monica was in emerald green…that colour sets off her eyes so well, but maybe it was a little short for the occasion…they have rules about that sort of thing in the Steward’s enclosure, but we slipped in without admonition and made straight for the champagne bar. Who should we bump into but the self-same Milly with a friend unknown. They seemed to have been there for some time and were well down a jug of Pimms. I could tell by her smudged mascara and slurred speech that things weren’t right, but it didn’t seem polite to enquire further. 

It was only when we saw Tom later in the day that all became clear. He was wrapped around a curvy young blond who was sporting a very chunky diamond engagement ring.  I can’t help thinking young Milly feels she may have made a mistake. Too late now my dear.

Douglas and Crichton enjoyed the rowing no end, strutting about like a pair of peacocks whilst making ‘knowledgeable’ remarks about the races. Douglas seemed particularly interested in the Women’s Coxless Pairs. I refuse to repeat his remarks.

We didn’t stay to the bitter end. Crichton was feeling the heat in his snug-fit jacket and when  Monica made a huge fuss after she got her feet wet when the steward’s launch whizzed past causing a mini tsunami on the bank, it seemed time to be off. Such a hoo-haa about nothing. Even if the cream leather is ruined, there was no need to swear like that, especially in front of foreigners. I do hate it when people stare.To be honest we’d all had enough sun, fun and alcohol and were glad when Stubbins finally appeared with the Daimler.

They were all partying over on Temple island as we drove off. How these young people manage to keep it up I’ll never know. I suppose that would have been us once upon a time.

Crichton Comments

Henley was just what we both needed. Douglas is the sort of chap that it’s good to be chums with. Not only is he a member and got us tickets for the steward’s enclosure but also car parking. It was only fair to offer Stubbins and the Daimler.  

Of course, the girls really only wanted to drink Pimms and natter, so we left them to it and went to watch the sport. I cut quite a dash in my blazer, despite what Derek said about the smell of moth balls. 

Cynthia looked particularly lovely today, I thought. She has caught the sun on her nose. It felt just like the old days.