Down the Drain

"I think it’s hideous. The rules definitely say that only natural items are to be used in any display entered for the competition. Can anyone tell me what is natural about a sink plunger? It was manufactured in a plastics factory and is completely synthetic. That repulsive purple she has painted it only makes it look worse. Throw it in the bin. Disqualify it. That’s my opinion. If anyone cares to listen to me!"

Celia, one of the leading lights of the Rombury Horticultural Society, took her position as chairman of the group very seriously. She sat back waiting for the reply that she knew would come from Jacintha, (what a silly name!) Forbes-Jones. Jacintha F-J, (Celia had dreamt up many fitting alternative words for the F-J.), had recently moved into the area and had immediately joined every community group possible, especially if anyone with money or the sniff of a title was involved. Celia, normally a fairly even-tempered soul, had disliked her on sight. She seemed to be everything that Celia was not. She was tall and willowy with thick, naturally blond, curly hair. Her clothes, though very understated, had obviously cost a fortune. She did not have to work, Mr F-J. having some well-paid job in the city and she knew just about everyone who was anyone. Celia had reached that age where the years ahead were a lot less than those she already had achieved. She loved her children and would not swap her husband for all the proverbial tea in China, but she had that uncomfortable, dissatisfied and unfulfilled feeling.

Jacintha F-J seemed to have it all.

"Don’t take on so darling. I find it quite amusing. Don’t forget that the theme was ‘Waste not want not’ and I think she’s been very clever." Jacintha, in her very laid-back manner, pushed a well-manicured hand through her golden tresses. Celia knew for a fact that the hairdresser and the manicurist, not to mention the personal trainer, called at The Limes at least once a week.

"Seb and I went to an exhibition in Sloane Square last week. We went to the opening night reception, champagne, canapés, caviar and lots of important people. There were some beautiful pieces by Gabriella. One of her exhibits was called ‘Refuse or Refuse?’ Very clever title. She’d used a sink plunger, said it symbolised the block the general public have in appreciating interpretational art. I even heard Tracy Emin say she was considering buying it. So there you are! You’ll never believe who else we met…"

It was just this type of comment that incensed Celia. Jacintha’s every word was calculated to impress, which worked with the more gullible but Celia was not one to be easily impressed.

She was a great fan of Miss Marple and Midsummer Murders and nothing gave her more pleasure than to curl up on the sofa and lose herself in their intricacies. In idle moments she would plan a murder where Jacintha was either the victim or the villain. Of course it would all be very tastefully done and the heroine, herself of course, would solve the riddle to everyone’s satisfaction.

"We don’t want to hear about your socialising. We’re here to decide about this thing. Is it in or out?"

The other members of the committee, Jackie and Sam had been persuaded by Celia that it was their civic duty to do all they could to help the community. They saw it as an opportunity to meet, have a free cup of coffee and indulge in their favourite occupation – gossip. The meetings of the horticultural committee gave them ample opportunity to enjoy their pastime. They had been members for some time and before Jacintha had joined had just agreed with all the decisions that Celia had made. Whatever they were would not have made a giant impact on the course of history! They now thoroughly enjoyed these differences of opinion. When they met at the school gates their topic of conversation was often Celia and Jacintha.

"Do you really think Jacintha does it to wind her up?" Sam had asked Jackie only the week before.

"If she does she’s very clever. She knows exactly which of Celia’s buttons to press. I do feel sorry for Celia though. Jacintha is so good at one upmanship. I wonder, should we tell Celia that tasty bit of gossip about Jacintha and her personal coach?"

"You two, stop bickering. It’s too nice a day to come to blows over something like that." Jackie stood up. "Who’d like some coffee? I know its not wonderful but its wet and its warm and I’m parched. I think they’ve left the central heating on. But still it makes it quite cosy and snug in here. There’s some of Celia’s home made fruit cake left as well."

"Jackie darling, no cake for me, although I’m sure it’s delicious. Just looking at it makes me put on pounds." Jacintha patted her very flat stomach and smiled sweetly at Celia. Celia glowered back.

"That’s three coffees then. You sure you won’t have any Sam?"

"I couldn’t face another cup. I don’t know about it keeping me awake, I’m finding it hard to stop my eyes from closing. AAhh! Oh excuse me!" she yawned, "The baby cried till about three in the morning then I didn’t get off till about four. It seemed only five minutes till the alarm went at seven."

"Darling! Are you going to hire a nanny?" Sam raised her eyes to heaven. "I’ve got the name of a very good agency. All the girls are carefully vetted and I know that Lady Blaney’s daughter Caroline uses them. We were invited to brunch at The Hall last week and Matty, that’s what everyone calls Lady Blaney you know, couldn’t sing their praises high enough."

"Will you shut up about blessed Lady Blaney so that we can make a decision about - what is the title of that abomination that’s supposed to be a flower arrangement? Oh here it is. She’s called it ‘Down the Drain’ and I think that’s the best place for it!"

Jackie smiled sweetly and put herself between Celia and Jacintha.

"Coffee ladies!"