We trooped downstairs and piled into Phil's brand new canvas-covered Rover tourer whilst Mutkin attached a large hamper to the back of the vehicle. The girls sat in the back whilst I sat next to Phil who adjusted his goggles- and my chum gave a happy chuckle as the engine roared into life at the first time of asking. 'Here we go,' he cried and we shot out into the traffic, narrowly missing a passing horse and cart whose driver bellowed a curse at Phil as my pal swung the car into Hill Street.
'What did that cheeky blighter shout out?' asked Phil as we chugged our way towards Park Lane.
'I wouldn't worry about it,' I said comfortingly, in any case, even if you wanted to, I should think it's anatomically impossible. But take it easy, old bean, we want to get to Putney in one piece.
'Andrew, don't be such a spoilsport, I love going fast!' cried out Claire. Of course, this was all Phil needed to hear and he drove at speed through Hyde Park. Now, if I had been called as a witness at the magistrate's court I would have had to perjure myself if I testified that we had been travelling at less than forty miles an hour on the Carriage Road when a policeman stepped from behind a tree as we approached the Prince of Wales's Gate and waved us down.
'Buggeration!' muttered Phil as he brought the car to a stop and waited for the constable to approach us. 'I've already been summoned for speeding this month. Oh well, let's see if I can persuade this fellow to let me off with a wigging.'
I didn't give much for his chances when the policeman arrived and said sternly: 'Good morning, sir. Do you realize what speed your car reached just now? The limit in the park is fifteen miles an hour but since you passed my colleague at Park Close, you were driving at forty-four mile an hour.'
He pulled his notebook out of his pocket and Phil smacked his cheek in horror. 'Dear me, is that so? Then I must offer you my sincere apologies but the truth is that I only purchased this car a few days ago and I'm not really used to driving such a powerful machine.'
'AH the more reason for taking extra care, sir,' said the constable. But as he brought out his pencil to write down Phil's particulars, my chum alighted from the car and said: 'Hold on a tick, officer, I'm a founder member of the Courtesy Motorists Club. Let me show you my membership card.'
Claire leaned forward and whispered to me: 'What on earth is the Courtesy Motorists Club? Becky and I have never heard of it.'
'Neither have I, and I read The Motor every month,' I muttered as I watched Phil pass a small piece of blue cardboard to the policeman who unfolded it and immediately slipped a folded leaf of paper into his pocket whilst he studied the cardboard intently for a few moments.
To my astonishment the policeman refolded the board and gave it back to Phil as he said in a gruff voice: 'Well, in the circumstances, I'll let you off with a caution this time as the road was clear, but you must be more careful in future, sir.'
'Oh, I will be, officer, you can depend on it,' said Phil as he climbed back into the car and let off the handbrake.
I looked at him and scratched my head whilst he drove slowly up to the line of cars waiting at Prince's Gate to cross into Exhibition Road and said: 'Well now, I would have put a tenner on your getting a ticket back there. How did you make that bobby change his mind? Does membership of the Courtesy Motorists Club confer any special privileges as far as the police are concerned? If so, tell me how I can join it.'
He said drily: 'Don't be daft, Andrew, I'm the founder, secretary and only member of that fraternity. The reason why the copper let me go is not unconnected to the view I've often expressed to you that a judicious financial gift to persons in petty authority works wonders. I'm a little surprised that you didn't guess that I had a banknote tucked inside that piece of board.'
'Gosh, wasn't that a rather dangerous gambit?' I said excitedly. 'Suppose he had taken offence at the offer of a bribe to let you off scot-free?'
'Not much chance of that,' retorted Phil. 'Aren't you aware that our coppers are the best money can buy! Anyway, I didn't get off scot-free, it cost me a pound note. Sure, I would probably have been fined only double that amount if I had been brought up before a beak-but think of all the time and trouble I've saved by paying off the chap now.'
'H'm, I'm not too certain whether that argument would hold up if you were ever charged with perverting the cause of justice,' I declared doubtfully-and then burst out laughing as I realized just how pompous I had sounded!
The girls joined in the laughter as we made our way through the crowded streets towards Putney Bridge. Once over the river, though, the traffic thinned out and Phil pressed his foot down on the throttle when we reached Putney Hill. Expertly, he changed to a lower gear as we sped up the incline and by half past twelve we parked the car and Phil and myself carried the heavy wicker hamper to a quiet secluded spot near Scio Pond.
We opened the hamper and it was clear that Mrs. Angel had packed enough food and drink for double our number. There was cold roast chicken, a veal and ham pie, brisket of beef and rolled tongue as well as two large bowls of salad, rolls and butter and pastries.
'What a bumper spread! I hope you boys are hungry,' exclaimed Claire. I grinned: 'And I hope you girls are thirsty, because even though I forgot to ask Phil to stop so I could buy some oranges to make Buck's Fizz, we have four small bottles of champagne, two bottles of seltzer, a bottle of claret and a bottle of hock to knock back!'
'Well, we'll just have to do our best,' Phil declared as he helped Becky spread out the linen tablecloth. 'Tuck in, everybody.'
After this magnificent feast the four of us all agreed that a pleasant post-prandial snooze was now in order. We found comfortable places to rest some twenty yards away from each other and to Phil's obvious delight, he was able to pair off with Becky who snuggled her curvy body next to his lean, supple frame. This did not bother me in the slightest for I was happy enough to have Claire resting her pretty head on my shoulder as I snaked my arm round her waist and brought her closer to me as we lay back on a hillock of dry grass.
Claire let out a little chuckle. When I asked what was amusing her, she replied: 'I was just thinking about Phil's friend, Jerry Fenner. Are you also one of his chums?'
I replied: 'Not exactly, although we have met at the occasional house party. I knew he's a good-looking brute, but I've often wondered how he got such a reputation as a gay Lothario and whether indeed it is justified.'
Claire gave a broad smile. 'Oh, it's justified, all right. But then, what would you expect from a young man who moves in one of the fastest sets in the entire country? I don't know how he is regarded in Society but he's a real stage door Johnny.
Most girls I know have been sent one of his special bunches of red roses with an invitation to dine at Romano's.'
The champagne had loosened my tongue and I blurted out: 'How about you, Claire? Did you ever succumb to his advances?'
'Just the once,' she replied quietly. 'You probably know that Jerry is reckoned by many to be one of the most talented amateur portrait painters in London. Well, he approached me one afternoon as I was going in to the theatre for the last matinee of Hallo, Sailor, my first West End show which you recall had poor reviews and ran for only three weeks. I was feeling very low and he really cheered me up by asking me if I would sit for him one day after the final performance.
'His offer boosted my morale and, to cut short the story, he arranged for his chauffeur to pick me up from my lodgings. He took me to Jerry's posh house in St John's Wood.
'“Mr. Fenner's expecting you, Miss,” said the driver as he opened the door for me. Jerry must have been watching out for my arrival for he opened the door himself whilst I was walking up the garden path. “Hello, Claire, how lovely to see you again,” he beamed, planting a chaste little kiss on my cheek as he helped me take off my hat and coat. He ushered me into the drawing room and gestured me to a comfortable armchair.
'“Do join me in a glass of chilled white wine,” he smiled. Jerry soon put me at ease as we exchanged the latest bits of theatrical gossip. Like many girls, I was quickly taken with this witty and handsome young man. He had dressed himself for the part in a pair of purple velveteen trousers, a loose white shirt with a colourfully embroidered waistcoat and a floppy silk tie secured with a glowing moonstone.
'Anyhow, we chatted away and I am not ashamed to admit that I blushed with pride at the realization that Jerry was obviously rather keen on me. Happily, this was very much a mutual feeling-so much so that I really thought little of it when Jerry announced that he wanted me to model for a nude study.
'“I hope you're not offended by this suggestion but I cannot tell you how excited I am by the thought of
