The door closes with a satisfying ‘thud’.
Set in to the eighteen-inch stone wall of the cottage, the safe is my insurance against the lawlessness of the modern world. We do not have a Bank in the Village, so I use my safe to store important documents, etc., such as the questions for tonight’s pub quiz.
I am the questionmaster!!! I have been especially selected from all the villagers for my natural authority and diction, plus the fact that I was quite drunk when the Well-Spoken Barman asked for volunteers. I have been thinking for a while that I should maybe do some community work, and this, coupled with being secretary of the snooker club, fits the bill nicely.
One of the problems with our modern society (apart from the lawlessness (see above)) is the fact that people do not care about their community. It is difficult to get volunteers, and when people do put their hands up it tends to be for the ‘glamour’ jobs like working with disabled children. Doing the pub quiz gets overlooked and what’s more I do not even get paid for it apart from in free beer all night.
I cannot deny that I am nervous however. I have not really been involved in a major quiz since the Nicholas Parsons debacle.
There is a knock at the door!!! It is Mrs Short Tony, visiting on a pretext.
“Have you got the questions yet?” she asks, her eyes darting around the kitchen. I know her game.