Teigh-Anne Toast’s Postcard from St Leonards

I was on my hands and knees last week at The Tipsy Turbot. Naturally, I was trying to be inconspicuous. Yet there’s only so much discretion a woman of substance can manage in a small pub. Book club was in session and I needed to return to it urgently. I’m afraid my juddering haunches may have resembled a floral sofa out on a stealth mission for the SAS. During an earthquake. But it was the best I could do. 

The book club always gathers at The Tipsy Turbot. It hasn’t been decorated since 1984, but we love it. Thursday morning is whisky hour, and we can smoke our cigarillos outside. Club members include Myrtle, Mildred, Apricot, Jezebel, Lucia… and me! Over the years we’ve concluded that the first rule of book club is: don’t talk about books! We started out with great expectations. But nowadays we’d rather exchange notes on the latest scandal. We once swapped withering slights over Penny Vincenzi’s output, but we soon turned the page… 

CREDIT: Natalie Parham

Well, we were having a giggle that day, teasing Myrtle about her latest romance; “Ooooh Myrtle! Is it ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’… or two coats of magnolia?” “Stop it!” begged Myrtle, “You must respect the silence of my hams!” Amid this melee, I slipped away to adjust my corsetry. But I became most discombobulated on my journey to the loo. There was Mr Jack Driftwood! The retired banker and notorious owner of Kipperz Fish Shack was at the far end of the saloon bar. He had an elbow on the counter and a pint in his hand. But that wasn’t the worst of it. He was staring directly at me! And with such an insolent smirk I feared for my good name. Clutching my bodice tighter, I scuttled into the powder room.

Minutes later, I exited with some trepidation. Behold! Jack Driftwood stood and gawped. I looked around. Could anyone else be the object of his predations? There were two pirates playing darts in one corner. The landlady, Miss Lovecock (aptly named, by all accounts) was behind the bar. She was too busy polishing the taps in a suggestive manner to notice Jack. The wolf wanted me. But why?

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I patted my embonpoint to check for accidental overspill. Was my dress tucked into my bloomers? It wasn’t. But there was no time to read between the lines. I immediately swooped below the bar and dropped onto all fours. Thankful to be wearing undergarments (unlike one nameless member of the book club, i.e., Mildred) I made my perilous flight.

Back in the lean-to we call ‘the cigar lounge’, the ladies were puffing away. They wanted to know what I was doing, crawling on the floor amid handfuls of dust. “Why have you gone all ‘Bravo Two Zero’?” asked Apricot.
I relayed my terrible ordeal;
“I’ve barely escaped with my maidenhood!” Everyone agreed that Jack surely posed a clear and present danger to gentlewomen. And Jezebel was determined to stop the rogue. She set out fearlessly for the saloon.

Jezebel approached Jack. Just then, Miss Lovecock intervened. She pointed out that Jack had been drinking Smuggler’s Cudgel. The infamous local brew! He was afflicted with temporary paralysis, which is a common reaction. He would have neither sense nor sensibility for hours. So, strong ale had been to blame all along. Never mind. My reputation was untarnished by his attention! And the book club could continue on as normal. Better yet, there was time for another round of whisky. “Anyone for last orders before we go?” asked Myrtle. Needing no persuasion, Lucia quipped, “Bring up the toddies!” Cheers!

• Editor’s Note: Bookworming contains hidden titles of at least 14 books. Can you identify them? Answers on below.



















Hidden Book Titles: A Woman Of Substance, Barbara Taylor Bradford; 1984, George Orwell; Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk; Notes on a Scandal, Zoë Heller; Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë; Fifty Shades Of Grey, EL James; The Silence Of The Lambs, Thomas Harris; A Handful of Dust, Evelyn Waugh; Bravo Two Zero, Andy McNab;
Clear and Present Danger, Tom Clancy; Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen; Last Orders, Graham Swift; Persuasion, Jane Austen; Bring Up The Bodies, Hilary Mantel.


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https://www.hastingsindependentpress.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Bookclub-pic-2.jpghttps://www.hastingsindependentpress.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Bookclub-pic-2-150x150.jpgHIPSatireTeigh-Anne ToastTeigh-Anne Toast’s Postcard from St Leonards I was on my hands and knees last week at The Tipsy Turbot. Naturally, I was trying to be inconspicuous. Yet there’s only so much discretion a woman of substance can manage in a small pub. Book club was in session and I needed...The Hastings & St Leonards non-profit community newspaper