Chapter 27
The wood-panelled room was full of urgent whispering as the teams conferred in hissed undertones.
In the corner sat a man at a microphone, a pint of beer next to him.
He was frowning at the sheet of paper in his hand as he waited a few more minutes for everyone to jot down an answer to his last question.
Jenni, nodding in agreement as Solomon listed all the presidents of the United States before declaring the answer had to be Teddy Roosevelt, turned to Tim and pulled a face.
Tim rolled his eyes at her. ‘Don’t worry, the music round will be coming up soon. I’m sure that will be easier for you!’
Jenni could only hope, especially given history, geography and general knowledge had all proved to be very much not her specialist subjects.
She looked around the room, assessing the other teams huddled together, whispering, pointing, some disagreeing, some looking smug.
Tim was wearing his lucky shirt, he’d told her earlier – a blue linen number he’d worn the year they’d bagged the trophy.
Jenni caught the eye of someone sat at the table next to theirs.
He seemed to be taking things slightly less competitively as well, and they shared a knowing smile of sympathy.
Tim caught her and gave her a menacing scowl for fraternising with the enemy.
Tim’s monthly quiz night was held at The Anchor, a Victorian pub near where he lived in the East End.
Paul and Tim had been regulars since they’d moved to the area, and they had joined forces with Solomon, a forty-something graphic designer with thick-black-framed glasses and baggy jeans, and his girlfriend Tina, a lawyer who worked for one of the major banks in the city.
The four of them had initially met during Sunday morning brunch in the restaurant downstairs, which had once been a proper old-man’s boozer before, a few years back, undergoing a makeover befitting of a rapidly gentrifying area of London.
The regulars had complained loudly about how the character had gone out of the old place, while quietly admitting that they didn’t miss the dealers in the loo, and that the arrival of smashed avocado on sourdough, while a cliché, was actually quite nice.
The function room upstairs, which, as well as quiz night, hosted children’s parties and the occasional wedding reception, had retained some of its original charms. The huge wooden sash windows framed by faded green velvet curtains looked out over the high street, and the ancient scuffed wooden floors still had an authentic stickiness.
It was also very draughty, not helped by the high ceiling, and Jenni was glad she was wearing her thick green cardigan and had brought a scarf with her, which she now pulled more tightly around her.
The compere moved on to the final question – something involving a sealion and World War Two – which Paul answered with ease, and then the round was finished. The lights came up and Tina and Tim headed to the bar to buy another bottle of wine.
Paul pushed himself back in his chair and stretched out his arms with a sigh. ‘Well, that was a tough round, but I’m confident we got at least eight out of the ten right. As long as we beat the Bastard Badgers I’ll be happy.’
He glared in the direction of another team, who were giving each other congratulatory pats on the back.
‘We’ve got everything to play for in the final round, though,’ said Solomon. ‘I think we were right to play our joker on the geography round.’
Paul nodded in agreement. ‘It’s not just the Badgers we need to watch, though. I bet Haven’t Got a Fucking Clue are doing well with all the World War Two questions tonight.’
Their post-round analysis was broken up by the arrival of Tina, who plonked a bottle of red down in front of them.
Tim followed, tipping five packets of crisps into the centre of the table.
As Tina refreshed everyone’s glasses and filled Paul and Solomon in on what she’d overhead as she’d waited at the bar – apparently, the Badgers were worried about their answers in the general knowledge round – Tim ripped open the crisps and turned to Jenni, picking up on the conversation they’d been having before the quiz started.
‘So, what are you going to do? Write back?’ he asked, reaching for a handful of salt and vinegar.
Jenni had told him and Paul about the note she’d found attached to Oscar’s collar earlier that week.
Mystified, she’d carefully opened the rolled-up piece of paper and had been surprised to find a note from the person Oscar had been spending all his time away from the house with.
‘I don’t know. I suppose I should, but it’s a bit weird, isn’t it?’
‘I think it’s sweet. There’s something deliciously old-fashioned about it all,’ declared Tim through a mouthful of crisps. ‘What if sixty-six is a rich old man, or a hunky single stud? This could be your destiny.’
‘All right, Mystic Meg, calm down.’ Jenni took another crisp. ‘What if they’re the knife-wielding, psychopathic Cruella De Vil of the cat world, looking to make a fur coat out of Oscar?!’
‘That’s a bit dark, love,’ said Tim, wrinkling his nose. ‘And besides, if they did want to do that, I doubt they’d drop you a note first. I think you should write back. Something bright and breezy.’
‘Is this about the cat corresponder?’ Paul interrupted.
‘What’s that?’ asked Tina. ‘You’ve got a talking cat?’
Jenni laughed. ‘No, my cat’s been cheating on me with someone else, and the person wrote me a note.’ She explained what had happened to the rest of the table.
‘Oh, they’re definitely trying to steal your cat,’ said Tina. ‘It’s a double bluff. They’re saying they’re not, but they are. Do you want me to write a cease and desist letter? That’ll put the fear of God into them.’
‘I don’t think I need to do that just yet,’ chuckled Jenni, ‘but thank you. It was a friendly note, but I do feel a bit odd about Oscar hanging out with a stranger. And they’re obviously feeding him, he’s getting quite pudgy. He’s very greedy.’
‘Well, let me know what you decide to do, but you definitely need to make it clear he’s your cat.’ Tina took a sip of her wine.
‘I agree. Janice has a shocker of a story to tell about what her neighbour did to her cat, doesn’t she, Paul?’ Tim said.
Paul nodded in agreement. ‘Water pistols were involved. And the police,’ he added after a slight pause.
‘Talking of Janice, it’s not too late to join us for Nordic walking tomorrow. Tina and Solomon can’t make it, unfortunately’ – Jenni glanced at the couple, who quickly arranged their faces into suitably disappointed expressions – ‘but you’ve got no excuses.’
‘Um, yes, well that’s very kind, but I need to get back to Oscar. Before he’s permanently abducted and—’
Thankfully, just then, the lights dimmed and the compere announced that the next round was about the begin. Tim grabbed a pen and pulled the answer sheet towards him, all thoughts of tomorrow’s walking forgotten.
Jenni breathed a sigh of relief – she really didn’t want to walk with sticks – and, as the intro of a well-known pop song began to play, she settled in for the music section.
She would write back to 66, she decided, although, was it a bit odd now she’d left it nearly a week? Her deliberations were brought to a close with a sharp nudge in the ribs from Tim.
Remembering again why she hated quiz nights, she nevertheless leant forward pretending to care.
It didn’t look like the music round was going to be her moment of glory either.