I think that the best way to describe the dinner party I attended earlier this week with Hope and Charlotte, is lively. Or at least, it was by the time we left. Now I enjoy a good dinner party as much as the next man, but when one is being introduced into an established grouping where one doesn’t even know the host, there is always the potential for disappointment or, as in this case, trouble.
Now, before anyone gets any ideas about my behaviour, I can state quite categorically and without fear of contradiction that I was the sole of discretion and behaved impeccably throughout. I feel that I have nothing to reproach myself about at all. And, I must add, neither do Hope or Charlotte.
you see, the evening was going frightfully well I thought at first. Hope had introduced me to our hosts and the rest of the guests and we had shared a glass or two of very decent wine before being seated for our meal. In all, there were eight of us and we were getting along quite swimmingly, talking over the really very delicious meal about this and that. The other chaps were all from the City, working in banking and the like. I joined in where I could but all the talk of bonds, securities and fluctuating interest rates rather bored me, as well as going right over my head.
Towards the end of the dessert – I very presentable homemade fruit tart – the discussion turned almost inexorably to Brexit. I say inexorably as it seems that these days one can hardly open a newspaper or tune into the television news without some expert or other prattling on about lack of progress, clarity or policy. Honestly, two years down the line one would have thought they would have had things sorted out, but it seems not, and the infighting within the government is quite frankly, an embarrassment to those of us who put them there.
It is a subject that is brought up again and again at the Club and as far as I am concerned the whole thing is becoming a frightful bore. I don’t understand all the ins and outs of the negotiations, but surely the Leave campaigners must have had some sort of plan. They must have prepared a strategy for disentangling us from all the bureaucracy and red tape that Europe seems intent on burying us under. Well, from what little I have seen and understood since the referendum result was announced, it seems that they did not, at least, not one that the government can work with.
Anyway, as I say, the subject came up and, being used to such things down at the Club, I quite freely voiced my support for leaving Europe and my frustration at the way the government is handling the whole thing. Now, in retrospect, maybe I should have been a little less enthusiastic in coming forward with my opinion. Maybe I should have held back and surveyed the lay of the land before charging in with my size nines. But I didn’t.
It turns out that I was sharing the table with seven very committed and adamant remain supporters. In fact, two of the chaps and one of the ladies had actually worked on the campaign, so my interjection in favour of the result was about as welcome as Donald Trump at a Muslim women’s convention.
From this point on things got a little heated. I am not a natural raconteur, and my understanding of the finer points of European law and such is, I will openly admit, not exactly in-depth, but I feel I held my own fairly well against what I can only describe as a concerted attack on my integrity. But I was seriously outnumbered and poorly equipped but emotionally and intellectually to stand up against their vociferous condemnations of the whole leave campaign.
To be fair to Hope she did stand beside me and attempt to defend me and my honour, but it was no good. It was obvious that she and Charlotte shared the view of their friends, that the country had been let down and would suffer for what the host called the most damaging and ridiculous decision. Now, whilst I have to confess to harbouring some doubts about the way the way things are going at this moment in time, I still believe it was the correct decision and did not take too kindly to the way I was spoken to. Thankfully Hope managed to deflect some of the criticism and did succeed in eventually changing the subject, but it was clear, long before we got to the port and cigars, that the evening had bee spoiled and stood no chance of improving so long as I remained one of the company. So, reluctantly I must add, Hope and I left a little before ten o’clock and made our way back to their little flat.
I had thought that after all that had been said I may not be welcome. I did fully intend to return home once I had seen the ladies to their door, but, to my surprise, Charlotte invited me to stay for a drink. In the end, we stayed up until well after midnight, clearing the air over Brexit and a number of other issues that sprung up. I was a jolly pleasant end to what had been the most disastrous of dates. Hope and I may see some things very differently, but I am incredibly fond of the old girl and would have hated to see something as trivial as a difference of opinion over some political ideology get in the way of what is becoming a very special relationship to me. Charlotte was very vocal in her comments about my stance on the Brexit thing, but I think she understood my position and we have reached an understanding that will allow us to move on.
I suppose that looking back I should have been more cautious about voicing my opinions in new company. I misjudged them quite dramatically. I had assumed they would see things the way I did, but it just goes to show you never can tell. I spent yesterday evening at the Club where, for once, there was no talk of Brexit at all. The big issue there seemed to be the railways, Israel and Saturday’s royal wedding, subjects that I believe we can all agree on.