Looking at the agenda for this evening’s committee meeting, I saw that the golf club’s annual dinner headed the list. The dinner, held in the club’s dining room, was usually a fork buffet affair, with volunteers preparing the various dishes. However this year, being the club’s sixtieth anniversary, something a little more special would be expected.
            "I call this meeting to order," said Janet, the chairperson. "I see the first item on the agenda is the annual dinner. We’ll need to splash out a little this year. Does anyone have any suggestions?"
            "We could have Champagne for the toast. I’m sure that would go down well," said someone.
            "Here, here." Voices of approval came from around the table.
            "Come, come. Surely we can do better than that."
            Everyone turned to look at Norah Hargreaves, a recent addition to the committee. Her husband was club captain and had been for three years. Usually one year was the absolute limit. However, being a forceful businessman and having enrolled several wealthy new members, many had felt compelled to re-elect him.
            Seeing she had everyone’s attention Norah continued. "As you know my husband has introduced a number of important people to the club. We can’t let them think we have no idea of how to cater for something as important as the annual dinner; especially one celebrating a diamond anniversary. No. Splashing out isn’t good enough, we need to push the boat out."
            "Do you mean we should call in some caterers?" I asked. "Because I’ve heard that there’s new company... "
            "Good heavens no!" Norah interrupted. "I suggest we do it ourselves. I’m not unaccustomed to giving dinner parties for large numbers of people. Why, at my last address I was the talk of the town. I would be delighted to organise a little soirée for the club."
            I glanced at Janet. We should have seen this coming. This was not the first time that Mrs. Hargreaves had tried to take over. She had only been elected onto the committee because of her husband’s position, but since then she had wormed her way into every subcommittee.
            We knew she had her eye on the chairperson’s position, but Janet was holding firm and she had many supporters, including me.
            "I’m not sure that..." I began
            "Why? It’ll be a perfect end to the season," interrupted Norah.
            "But we’re not holding a little soirée," I said. "We’re talking about a sit down meal for nearly two hundred people. Though I suppose some casserole dishes might be possible."
            "No! No! I was thinking of something much more sophisticated," shrilled Norah. "I already have the perfect menu in mind."
            "I thought she might." Janet murmured in my ear.
            "What was that dear? Did you say something?" Norah asked.
            "I just wondered if it would be taking on too much," said Janet, looking at the other members for support. "We want the evening to be a success. Everyone has always been quite satisfied in the past, so why..."
            "Satisfied, yes," Norah interrupted. "But that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t like something better; something truly magnificent to mark this memorable occasion. I’m sure that my husband, as captain, will be absolutely delighted with what I have in mind."
            "I’m still not sure..." I tried again.
            "Good. That’s settled then," Norah interrupted again. She was very good at that. "Just leave everything to me. I’ll organise the committee members into five or six groups, giving them each a course to work on. I feel that we should have five or possibly six courses, with at least two choices for each course." Mrs. Hargreaves paused. "Naturally I myself will prepare the main course. I was thinking of rack of lamb and perhaps pheasant for the main course."
            She paused, looking at the paperwork in front of her. "Now what else is on the agenda?" She looked at Janet. "Oh I’m sorry, my dear. I’m so used to being the chair, I simply get carried away."
            "I wish she would," I whispered. A sentiment I’m sure Janet shared judging from the expression on her face.
            Soon afterwards, Janet declared the meeting closed
            "I’m worried," I said as Janet and I were walking home. "I’d be much happier calling in the caterers and ordering roast beef. It’s much more suitable than... " I paused. "I’ve just had a thought; we’ll spend the evening running around waiting on tables."
            "Oh my goodness, I never thought of that." Janet slapped her hand on her forehead. "Preparing the food won’t be the end of it. I should have insisted on a proper debate. But the whole thing was taken out of my hands. You’re right. We could have asked the caterers to do something plain but tasteful. Pheasant indeed! It’s simply to impress her husband’s friends."
            "I agree, Janet. His friends may have given the club a boost, but it hasn’t done him any harm either. I heard recently that his firm has been given a huge contract by one of them." I sighed. "The rest of the committee should have had more say"
            "Yes," said Janet. Some support would have helped. But to tell you the truth, I think they were all dumbstruck."
            "You’re probably right," I said. "Jim looked positively mortified. His wife’s not going to be pleased. She already has her hands full running the nursery.
            "All the men’s wives have jobs," said Janet, thoughtfully. "They do a lot to help out when needed, but this is too much to ask."
            "I know," I replied. "But there’s nothing more we can do tonight. Why not hold another meeting and put it to the vote?"
            Janet laughed. "She’d still dominate the proceedings and we’d be no further forward. But I agree; we should call another meeting."
            By now we had reached my home. "We’ll sleep on it," I said. "I’ll call you in the morning."
            However, Mrs. Hargreaves beat us to it. She rang early the next morning inviting the committee to a meeting in her home that evening.
               On arriving, we learned she had already organised the members of the committee into groups. "I’m sure the wives of our gentlemen members will want to be involved. Now here is what I propose." she said, handing out long lists. "I thought that for the starter we could give a choice of smoked salmon and Parma ham, or soup." She peered over the top of her glasses, "Naturally the soup will be home made from only the finest vegetables. This will be followed by a fish course and then lemon sorbet. It’s very refreshing and cleans the palate. I will..."
            "A fish course?" Janet interrupted. "Do we need a fish course or lemon sorbet come to that?"
            "My dear all the best dinners have a fish course, Janet." Mrs. Hargreaves looked back at her menu. "Now where was I? Oh yes, the main course, I’ll be doing that. I have chosen pheasant, rack of lamb and I couldn’t resist adding a little something extra. Venison."
            "Venison!" we chorused.
   `        "Yes, I thought that would surprise you all. It will be my masterpiece. Next will be the desert. Now here you’ll see that I have chosen to produce several choices... "
            I could remain silent no longer. "Norah, this whole menu is a recipe for disaster." Ordinarily I would have laughed at my unintended pun, but the situation was too serious. "It’s far too ambitious. How many people will want venison? Don’t you think that roast chicken or something like that would be more suitable?"
            "No I don’t," she sniffed. "As I said at the meeting, we need to push the boat out."
            "But venison, I... " Janet began.
            "I intend to take this club up-market and serving venison is the ideal way to start." Norah coughed. "Besides I have already shown the menu to my husband and he is most enthusiastic. So it’s all settled."
            "I still think... " I tried to get a word in.
            But Mrs. Hargreaves was having none of it. "I appreciate your concern, but I know exactly what I am doing. Besides, I’m leaving nothing to chance. I’ll place the order for all our requirements with a lovely little shop I’ve discovered in London. They’re most reliable. I’ll arrange for it to be delivered to my door several days before the dinner. I’ll inform you as soon as it arrives and everyone can make the necessary arrangements to collect their ingredients in time to prepare their particular course."
            "But the cost... pheasant, venison, they don’t come cheap and how many people... " began Janet.
            "It’ll be money well spent," interrupted Norah, sounding huffed. "But if we are going to be counting the pennies, I’ll pay for anything not used."
            We were all stunned when we left. Everyone agreed when Janet suggested we should go to the pub.
            "I don’t know what my wife is going to make of this," said Jim, gloomily looking at his list. "She doesn’t mind doing her bit, but this is ridiculous. Just look at what she is expected to do."
            "Mine will say the same," said another male committee member.
            "I’m not very happy myself," I said. "And I don’t know what my husband is going to say. He’ll expect me to sitting with him, not running around the dining room all night."
            Janet laughed. "What makes you think your husband is going to be sitting down. Norah will probably have him serving drinks and washing up."
            I groaned. It was true. None of us were going to enjoy any of it.
            At the next committee meeting, Mrs. Hargreaves told us that the food had been ordered and would arrive on the appointed day. "I told them to bring it on the Monday. That will give us a full five days to prepare everything. I told you before; I’m leaving nothing to chance."
            As the weeks went by, I became depressed. Usually the dinner was something I looked forward to, but this year I felt a cloud of impending doom hanging over me. Norah did nothing to lift my spirits. She kept dreaming up more grand ideas. The whole thing was getting out of hand.
            Was Norah even capable of doing all she said? We only had her word that she had done this sort of thing before. What if it all went wrong? The invitations declaring the Gala Dinner had gone out a short while ago. Acceptances had already begun to arrive.
            Concerned, Janet decided to call a meeting at her home without telling Norah. We needed to discuss what we should do if a problem was to arise. How embarrassing if everyone turned up to find there was no meal.
            At the last full committee meeting before the event, Janet asked Norah for an update on the plans. "I take it the food will be delivered on Monday."
            "Err... Monday?" Norah ran her finger down the page in her diary, the colour draining from her face.
            "Yes, Monday," said Janet, slowly. "You know, for the dinner on Saturday. You did get the date right, didn’t you?"
            "Yes, of course I did," said Mrs. Hargreaves, heatedly. "What do you take me for? I’ll ring the firm tomorrow morning and make sure they realise the importance of our order."
            "Good," said Janet, looking at me; we both knew something was wrong.
            On Monday, the call from Norah never came. Tuesday morning, Janet and I tried ringing her several times, but there was no reply. Together, we went to her house and though we rang the bell and rattled the letterbox, there was still no answer. It was the same all week.
            On the afternoon of the dinner, Janet and I were laying the place cards on the tables in the dining room when Norah burst in looking quite flustered.
            "I’ve been trying to reach you. The food only arrived this morning. I have it in my car. Tell everyone to come immediately. There’s not a moment to lose."
            "But the meal is being prepared even as I speak," said Janet, calmly.
            Just then a wonderful aroma of roast beef wafted through from the kitchen.
            Norah’s jaw dropped. "What about the food in my car? There’s enough for two hundred people."
            "Well you generously said you’d pay for anything not used," I said. "So it’s all yours."
            "The committee felt that your plans were so extravagant, something was sure to go wrong," explained Janet. "We were also very uncomfortable about your choice of menu. So a few weeks ago, feeling we needed a contingency plan, we approached the new catering firm in town."
            "That’s right," I joined in. "And being their first customers, they offered us a lovely three course meal at a most reasonable price. When we explained the situation, they even agreed to allow us until the last minute to decide."
            "You should have told me. I... " Norah flopped into a chair.
            "But how could we?" I said. "You wouldn’t answer our calls. So yesterday we called in the caterers. You see, Norah dear, we too were leaving nothing to chance."