The spare man
Charles is much in demand. So amusing, such a talented interior decorator, can talk to anyone, including deaf aged aunts, the odd maharaja and depressed divorcees. There is a glut of all in Woldshire. And he is getting a meal he has not had to heat in the microwave.
He is now imprisoned between a widow and a separated wife who just wants everything to be all right again. No, dear, it never will be and your husband has trodden you into a doormat. Not that Charles says so. He is a safe pair of hands. Once he was asked to a wedding breakfast – actually a wedding tea – the day before because a prince had dropped out and, instead of being offended, he was flattered that his hostess knew him well enough to ask him. “I had the best time and fabulous placement. Nothing not to love.”
Charles is always gracious. He is relieved that his shiny dinner jacket has given way to Woldshire Casual (smoking jacket, black trousers and velvet slippers with his dachshund embroidered on them). Much of the time it descends to jummies – “Just jumpers and corduroys, darling, nothing posh, we’ll be in the kitchen.” This signals that supper will be Charlie Bigham’s fish pie decanted into his hostess’s dishes with added prawns and hard-boiled egg. And frozen petits pois. All served up as homemade. Peas from their lovely garden. Not.
He is missing out now that hostesses are brave enough to have odd numbers – and the jealous, divorced wives who actually had/have careers are not lame ducks. He knows that by pud they will, however successful with their little jewellery business, be funny and jolly and confiding about their painting courses with Puff at College Arts. “Really, I am a nothing with oils but she makes me feel marvellous. My husband just says ‘It is your little therapy’.” Charles sees his watch tick past 11pm and thinks it is a respectable time to go to watch the first episode of The Crown. And perhaps the second. And he wonders if he wants to spend the rest of his life making up the numbers at dinner parties.
Charles is missing out now hostesses are brave enough to have odd numbers
Victoria Mather
There’ll Always Be An England: Social Stereotypes from The Daily Telegraph by Victoria Mather and Sue Macartney-Snape (Constable, £12.99). Follow on Facebook/Instagram: @social_stereotypes