‘Arnie Charnley always paid his bills in cash. When other guests were checking out with their credit cards he would wait at the back of the queue before producing what he called his “holding folding”. He was a very popular figure who would entertain people with his risqué jokes and anecdotes.’
Grant was ploughing on relentlessly, regaling Brigit with further tales of the 1972 holiday as they trekked back towards the car after their walk from Cape Cornwall. ‘The arrival of the Charnley family was a bit of a ritual. Arnie’s Jaguar, his pride and joy, would pull up in front of the hotel, and he would commandeer the porter to assist. His wife, Lucy, whom he referred to as “the Duchess”, would wait in the car until the luggage had been brought in, preparing for her grand entrance – powdering her nose, applying eyeliner, lipstick and so on. It was generally believed that he was terrified of her. They arrived off the night train, which transported the Jaguar. Tom always made sure he was on duty for the Charnleys’ arrival, as he and Arnie had a special arrangement. Arnie’s main obsession in life was the horses; betting, that is. He had long since promised the Duchess that he had given up, claiming he hadn’t been inside a bookies’ for five years. Indeed, he didn’t need to visit bookmakers in Cornwall, as Tom placed his bets for him. In fact, Tom even looked after Arnie’s stockpile of readies, as he didn’t dare risk keeping cash in the bedroom or the car in case the Duchess made a discovery.’
Brigit listened patiently before speculating, ‘Don’t tell me, Tom lost all Arnie’s money and got the blame for placing bets on the wrong horses.’
‘Not exactly. In fact, that last summer Arnie was very successful. The day he arrived he told Tom to put £50 on Vivaque, at thirty-to-one, running in the four-forty at Newton Abbott. When it won, Arnie found it very hard to conceal his joy from the Duchess but wasted no time in regaling the rest of us, so much so that I still remember the horse’s name.
‘Each morning Arnie used to set off for an early jog, usually with Richard Hughes-Webb, Bob Silver and Paul Galvin. Tom would see them trot off at seven, enjoying some good-natured banter. They would run down through the woods, next to the cascades, before crossing the road to the beach where they would run for about one and a half miles until they hit the nudist part, which was normally the cue for some rather more vulgar banter. “Did you see her? She was about a hundred and nine!” They would usually reappear at the hotel still amusing themselves with their puerile humour but would then snap out of it pretty sharpish.’
‘Are we still focusing on potential murder suspects or have we moved on to “Carry On” film territory?’ Brigit did not see the relevance of all this.
‘Actually this is relevant, because one morning as they came back through reception panting and sweating Tom was quick to ask Arnie for a private word. At this time I’d decided to stalk Hughes-Webb after hearing about the incident with my mother in the drive, and I happened to be loitering in reception and witnessed a bit of a scene. The others, who all had their own secrets known to Tom, moved away and returned swiftly to their rooms, eager to shower after their morning exertions. Tom seemed fraught, pacing around in an uncharacteristically anxious manner. He informed Arnie that he’d had a burglary at his cottage and that all Arnie’s cash, so carefully secreted with him, had been stolen.
‘“What?” exclaimed Arnie. “All my dosh? You can’t do this to me. What if it’s gone for ever? How will I pay the bill here? And, more importantly, what will I tell the Duchess?” By this stage his face was puce, and he was jumping up and down as he sprayed angry words at Tom, who quickly outlined an impromptu plan. The Duchess loved the gardens of Cornwall, and Tom knew Arnie was bored stiff by them, so Tom suggested that he drive her to Caerhays Castle on the south coast – at least a ninety-minute journey. “And while she’s there you can go and see my nephew Ivan, who I think may be responsible, as only he knew where I kept the suitcase with the cash.” Arnie was stunned. First he had been advised that several hundred pounds of his money – a fortune in those days – had been stolen, and now he had to turn sleuth to interrogate Ivan. He considered the proposal. At this stage he would have considered anything. He exhaled deep breaths saying “Calm, calm, calm” to himself while clutching his left arm with his right hand.’
‘So did he go along with the plan?’
‘With some of it. He thought the Duchess would love being driven by Tom acting as chauffeur, and he had heard his wife mention that Caerhays possessed over two hundred different types of rhododendrons. She had often badgered him to take her there, and Arnie couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less. He quickly got the Jag insured for Tom to drive, which would enable him to stay behind and watch his beloved Lancashire playing a Gillette Cup semi-final cricket match on television. Arnie instructed Tom to inform the police about the cash, but the porter was insistent that he couldn’t let the police near his cottage, saying, “Don’t let daylight in on magic.” In the end they compromised, with Tom saying he would tackle Ivan himself.’
‘I should think Arnie was pretty anxious, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes but he couldn’t show it in case the Duchess noticed. The following day we all witnessed the hilarious scene of Tom wearing a peaked cap and dark suit collecting the Duchess and chaperoning her into the back seat of the Jag. He was given instructions as to where to park the car, when to speak to her and even to address her as “My Lady”.’
‘That woman clearly had no idea of what a ridiculous figure she must have cut.’
‘Too true. We were suppressing fits of laughter at the Royal Progress as Tom slowly drove his VIP passenger down the drive.’
‘So what was achieved by this diversion?’
‘Two-thirds of diddly-squat. The Duchess enjoyed her day out enormously, convincing everyone she met that she was some sort of minor royal but that protocol prevented her from saying any more. Tom later revealed they all thought she was most strange. Meanwhile Arnie, free of the worry of upsetting his wife for the time being, settled down in the TV room to watch several hours of cricket. He bore a striking resemblance to Lancashire’s highly successful captain at that time, Jackie Bond; he was actually seen on the hotel lawn one day enjoying a clotted-cream tea while signing autographs as Jackie Bond for a group of senior citizens who had disembarked from a coach. Apparently he tried to charge for this. Sadly for Arnie, Ted came along and spoilt his game by asking, “What’s he been telling you?” Arnie’s new-found admirers soon abandoned him. No one found this more amusing than Arnie himself who delighted in telling the story.’
‘But what happened to the cash?’ asked Brigit.
‘Well, Tom went to see Ivan, who, predictably, said he didn’t know what he was talking about, which Tom had no option but to accept. Arnie was devastated. He had pinned his hopes on Ivan being the culprit and returning the cash.
‘Arnie’s attitude to Tom changed overnight. There was no more banter, just hostility. He told Tom he had better find his money pretty damn quick or he’d call the police. Tom, feeling cornered, countered that he would tell the Duchess everything. Arnie couldn’t face that, as he feared his wife’s wrath like nothing else, so he vowed untold trouble for Tom if he didn’t return the cash by the following Wednesday. He added that he might have to get some funny people he knew up north involved.
‘The following Thursday we were all scheduled to leave the hotel, and Arnie was very exercised about checking out with his family, fearing he would be unable to settle the bill. His two children, Nick and Jenny, were made aware of his predicament but were ordered not to tell their mother. Both adored their father, for all his faults, and, knowing only too well the grief he would receive from their mother, they needed no persuading.
‘Meanwhile, fearing the worst, Arnie approached his friends for a loan to pay the bill. First refusal came from Ted Jessops, who said it was a bad time for him to loan money as his factory had recently burnt down and the insurance company was being sticky. Second refusal came from Paul Galvin, who revealed the problem of the failed building project in Penzance and his worries of being wiped out. Next up Bob Silver said he would see him right but disappeared on the Thursday for some high-powered meeting in London and didn’t return for the rest of the holiday. In desperation Arnie finally turned to Richard Hughes-Webb, who said, “I am a heart surgeon, not a loan shark”, and left Arnie in no doubt that he did not approve of anyone being unable to pay their bill. Arnie promised that he would drive to Croydon the weekend following the holiday and repay the loan in cash, but Richard observed him disapprovingly before exclaiming, “No chance.”’