Committee meetings at the Pitside Social Club had been well attended since the decision was taken to give each committee member two complimentary drinks per meeting.
Andy brought over a tray of Pitside Zombies, a cocktail designed by the committee to make the most of their free drink allocation.
“Thanks Andy,” said the chairman. “Can we just start with the management update since you’re here?”
“Sure,” said Andy. He sat down. “Well, employment remains very low in the village which affects the level of disposal income. Combine that with the fact that most under twenty fives are not coming into the club due to their preference for illegal drugs and the trading position continues to be poor and declining.”
Everyone laughed.
“So,” said the chairman. “I take it you mean we’re not doing very well at the moment?”
“Pish,” said Andy.
“And it’s getting worse?” asked the chairman.
“It’s as pish as I can remember.”
“Any suggestions?”
“Either more people need to get jobs so that they have more money to spend, we need to start selling illegal drugs, or the government needs to win the war against narcotics and young people start using alcohol again to get wasted.”
“Any sensible suggestions?” asked the chairman.
“Not from me,” said Andy. “I better get back to the bar. Give me a shout when you want another drink.”
“Anyone else got any suggestions?” the chairmen looked around the committee.
“Events,” said Hugh. “We need to put on more events.”
“What kind of events do you mean Shagger?”
“Anything and everything.”
“What like fundraisers for the United Ulster Force,” said another committee member. “We only took £300 over the bar at the last one and we raised even less for the fund.”
“Well no wonder,” someone else commented. “What do they need a United Ulster Force for anyway? There’s peace in Ireland. It’s a joke, the whole thing. Do you know how many tickets we’ve sold for the next one? Ten! At that rate the bar won’t even pay for itself.”
“Ten tickets?” said Hugh. “I didn’t realise it was that bad.”
“Why would anyone want to go? It’s just paying to get in to your own club.”
“We could try and book a Karaoke,” said Hugh. “That’s always popular.”
“Well, you’re not getting an advance from club funds,” said the chairman. “You’ll need to fund it out of the ticket sales.”
“Look,” said Hugh. “I know these things aren’t as popular as they used to be. Less people have been turning up every time. But we can’t just cancel it. What would I say to Jaffa?”
“You could tell him to use some of the money he makes selling drugs if he really wants to. That’s assuming he ever gives anyone the money he gets from the fundraisers.”
There was a murmur of approval from the committee.
“Do any of you want to tell him that?” asked Hugh.
There was silence.
“Look, I’ll say to him that this will be the last fundraiser, but that’s as far as I’m willing to go.”
“Okay, onto the formal business,” said the chairman, keen to move on from talk of Jaffa. “First up, air fresheners. As you all know the smoking ban has had its effect on the smell of the place. Without smoke to cover all the other smells the place is stinking. We’ve had a company in who install automatic scent dispensers. They are installing the units next week, but we need to decide on the smell. There’s five choices…”
Hugh drifted off, thinking about Jafffa. How was he going to tell him? The guy was a psychopath and Hugh already owed him £500. Hugh had seen what Jaffa was capable of.
“Shagger! What do you think?” asked the chairman.
“Sorry,” said Hugh. “About what?”
“Cucumber fresh or Citrus Orange?”
