There's a long and convoluted story behind this one. It started when I noticed that an advert in my local paper offered "TTWF for naughty boys." Strangely, the internet couldn't tell me what "TTWF" stood for in this context. But it led me to some interesting places.
Tea and Vigilance (973 words)
Edna saw her opportunity, concentrated her will, and gently put Florence in a half nelson.
Outside the wrestling ring, Rose watched them from her chintz armchair, eyes sparkling. “The Turning of the Snake.” she said. “I used it to win the League of Vigilance national in ‘66, you know.”
Betty waved impatiently at Edna and Florence from a nearby table. They climbed out of the ring, and as they passed Rose she said, “You did remember to do the other half, didn’t you dear? State of mind is so important.”
“Don’t keep Edna, dear,” said Betty. ”We’ve got important things to discuss.” Florence and Edna sat down, and Doris poured their tea.
“She’s getting dottier,” said Florence.
Edna tinkled her teaspoon in her cup of Earl Grey. “She really did win in ’66. I looked it up. There must be something in what she says, about using your mind for the moves.”
“Load of mumbo-jumbo,” said Betty, reaching over to grab three scones. “It’s addled her head. It’s all about concentrating and keeping up your form. Building up your constitution so the Pink doesn’t poison you.” She patted her substantial tummy.
“I expect you’ll want some cream with those,” said Edna, pushing it over. Betty favoured the belly splash and other moves that allowed her to throw her weight around.
“Rose was the best in her day,” said Doris, “But she won’t be here forever. And we lost poor old Jessie last year. We need new blood. Who’s going to fight the Cabal when we’re all gone?”
“Buck up, Doris,” said Betty, dolloping cream on her scones. “We can’t have that kind of talk.”
“I’m just saying,” Doris went on. “Someone’s got to keep the Lore.” She glanced over at Rose. “She can’t even remember what she had for breakfast.”
Rose noticed them all staring. “It’s just a half nelson if you don’t do it in your head,” she said. “I’m going to use it on Freddie tonight.” She grinned. “He likes it.”
“Freddie’s dead, dear!” Betty shouted, then hissed to the room in general, “Don’t let her have more sherry.”
“Oh leave her be,” said Edna. “Where’s the harm?”
Betty pursed her lips. “We have intelligence that the Cabal is making a push,” she said frostily. “I don’t suppose your Emily’s turned anything up.”
Edna’s granddaughter worked at the local paper, and visited often. “Not unless the library book amnesty is an evil plot,” said Edna.
“Your report, Florence.”
“Last week there was all those young men going round, selling cheap electricity. Some company called Powermongers. Never heard of them.” Florence sniffed. “One of them knocked on my door. Shifty so-and-so, talked to me like I was daft. He told me I had to sign up then and there. I told him, I’ve been with my company thirty years, why should I change? I sent him off with a flea in his ear.”
The ladies nodded. It sounded like the work of the Cabal.
Florence leaned in and lowered her voice. “Now someone’s set up one of them fancy pastry shops in the High Street. It’s ever so cheap. There’s Battenburg cake in the window. And...there’s French fancies. Proper ones.”
”They wouldn’t dare!” said Betty. “We’ll go in for a reccie tomorrow.”
#
The patisserie was painted in pale blue and gold, and set with dainty tables covered with pristine white cloths.
“I can feel it already,” said Rose.
“Quiet, now dear,” said Betty patting her arm. But Edna could feel something too, nagging at her like a toothache. She helped Florence escort Rose to a table while Doris paid.
The Ladies ordered Battenburg and French fancies, and just to be on the safe side, the strawberry cheesecake. The Cabal had been using the Pink for centuries, but they couldn’t change its colour. They’d slipped it into kings’ cakes, merchants’ wines and peasants’ jams, anything that was sweet and had a rosy hue.
“Rose is right, said Doris with a mouthful of cheesecake. “There’s Pink in this.”
Edna bit into a French fancy and felt a lovely warm well-being wash over her, the feeling that all was right with the world as long as there was more cake. She focused her mind and imagined a sequence of moves, half nelson, arm lock, twist of the wrist, tying up the pacifying influence of the Pink in steel bonds of her will. She snatched her hand back as she found it reaching for another pastry.
Rose patted her arm. “Well fought,” she said. “Your family’s got the gift.”
“How are the funds, Doris?” said Betty.
“We’ve got a bit put away from poor old Jessie’s house. And our shares are doing alright.”
“There’s only one thing for it, Ladies,” said Betty. “We’ve got the training, and we’ve got the constitution. We’ll draw up a duty roster. Four of us will come in every day and bear the brunt of it. That should upset the Cabal’s plans.”
“I’ll do for the Battenburg,” said Florence.
#
Doris poured the tea while Florence spread the local paper out on the table and poked a finger at an article. “There. I told you they was shifty.”
Betty put on her glasses and snatched up the paper.
“My grand-daughter wrote that,” said Edna. It was a report about Powermonger. Their customers hadn’t got the deal they thought they’d signed up to. Powermonger lost paperwork, claimed the salesmen responsible had left the company and routed all complaints through their call centres with half-hour waits and ‘accidental’ disconnections.
“It says here that the customers are outraged.” said Betty, triumphantly. “So we did our bit. If the Pink had got to them, they’d all be happily paying up. Humph. It also says your Emily’s getting them all together to take Powermonger to court.”
“What a clever girl. I must speak to her next time she visits,” said Rose. “The Lore must pass on. And Freddie likes her.”
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