The nearest swimming pool to Swaffham Tilney, nearer even than Quy Mill Hotel where Mum works, is the Field View HealthClub and Spa. About two months ago, a new manager took over there and introduced a new system of swimming-timetable slots in an attempt to make sure the facilities never became unpleasantly overcrowded. Prior to this, there had been no restrictions. Any club member could swim whenever they wanted to and stay as long as they pleased.
One day Lesley Gavey had arrived for a swim at 1:58 p.m., only to be told about the new regime and informed that, yes, she was of course allowed to swim but that she would need to get out at 2:20 p.m., in order to be dressed and out of the building by 2:30 p.m., which was when the next timetable slot was scheduled to start.
Assuming she’d be able to get her own way, Lesley smiled and said, “Oh, don’t worry. I’m here for a nice long session today, so I’ll just stay in the pool for the next slot too.”
The girl behind the desk told her that wasn’t allowed. No member was allowed to stay for two consecutive slots. No, not even if the next session only had two people turn up for it, or nobody. The rules were the rules and couldn’t be deviated from under any circumstances. The manager had made that very clear. “You’re very welcome to come back for a second session later on today if you’d like to—just not the session that follows straight after this one,” the girl said, naively imagining this would be received as a glad tiding.
“Not one to be thwarted, Lesley flew into a hideous temper and started shrieking. But that’s not the mind-boggling part.” Corinne chuckled. “That’s just what you’d expect, right? Wait till you hear what happened next. Around a week later, Alastair Gavey fancied a swim.”
“So they’re not poor at all, then, if they can afford to be members atField View,” said Mum. “When they moved into Bussow Court, Lesley made a point of telling me they’d only been able to afford the Stables because they found a bit more than they’d imagined they’d have when she viewed Shukes last year—but now, having moved, that really was it. They were virtually bankrupt. A bit more!” Mum snorted. “The Stables was on for seven hundred and fifty grand—that’s a hundred and fifty more than her original budget of six hundred.”
“So what happened when Alastair Gavey went for his swim?” Tobes asked.
“He’d been briefed by Lesley, so he knew there was a slot starting at two thirty,” said Corinne. “He made sure to arrive in good time and turned up at about… Well, actually, there was no ‘about’ about it. The Farmer was very precise: Alastair Gavey arrived at the reception desk at two twenty-seven. And guess what? Cash prize for anyone who guesses right.”
This livened Toby up no end. “Um, erm… He was barred for having a rude wife?”
“Nope.” Corinne smiled. “Ree? Can you beat Toby to the win?”
“They made him wait in reception for three minutes instead of letting him in early?”
“Hang on,” said Mum. “The Farmer told you this story?”
“Mm-hmm.” Corinne smiled.
“I’ve heard he ignores all village gossip.”
“Most of the time, yeah. Normally his mind’s on crops and combine harvesters and stuff, but he owns the Field View Health Club, so he’s interested in what happens there.”
“The Farmer owns the Field View Health Club?” Mum squeaked. “I did not know that!”
“Mark?” Corinne addresses the rearview mirror. “Want to try and guess what happened next?”
Dad shook his head and said nothing, to remind everyone that he was waiting to discuss more serious matters. He had the expression of a recently kidnapped person who has just realized his captors are nonviolent but lethally irritating.
“Well, if they didn’t make him wait, they must have let him in three minutes early,” said Toby.
“Correct!”
“I win!” My canny, non-furry brother got straight down to business: “How much is the prize?”
“Nothing yet,” said Corinne. “Yes, the receptionist let Alastair in early, but that’s not the part you have to guess in order to win. What do you think happened after that? Ree? Any hunches?”
“Alastair Gavey swam thirty lengths,” Toby said impatiently. “Not gonna lie, I’ve played more fun games than this one.”
Corinne chuckled. “Yes, but what happened after that?” She was enjoying tormenting us all.
“Oh my God,” said Mum. “I think I’ve guessed. Did Lesley go back and kick up a stink because they let Alastair in early, after telling her the rules couldn’t be—?”
“Yes!” Corinne cried out, startling us all. Dad muttered something angry-sounding under his breath. “Yes, she did. They couldn’t have it both ways, she insisted: Either the timetable rules were strictly observed, and no exceptions could be made, or there was flexibility. The manager agreed. He assured her there would be no flexibility ever again. That wasn’t good enough for Lesley, though; she wanted someone punished for the original flexibility.The manager agreed to that too. He gave the young man who’d let Alastair in early a formal warning. Can you believe it?” Corinne shook her head.
“I can, quite easily,” said Mum.
“The poor guy had to write Lesley a letter of apology,” Corinne went on. “You’d have thought that would be good enough for her, but no. She demanded an apology from the girl who’d dealt with her too.”
“For what?” Mum asked. “That girl was implementing the manager’s rules, wasn’t she?”
“Guess again,” said Corinne. “What would Lesley Gavey’s answer to that be?”
