The Writers' Circle

Auntie Vera was sitting in her favourite chair by the radiator in the old people's club one afternoon, when the normally tranquil atmosphere of gently rattling tea-cups and dentures was upset by the entrance of a stranger. He was a cleanly dressed young man with an earnest look about him, and he was carrying a clip-board. The young man was accompanied by an excited Pam Harper; The council funded manageress of the club.
Auntie Vera eyed the newcomer with suspicion. She prided herself on her ability to find fault with everyone she came into contact with, and after a moments reflection decided that the young man looked "a bit foreign". Satisfied with her analysis she sat back to await developments. 

Mrs Harper tapped a spoon against a tin tray in order to get everyone's attention. In this she was fairly successful except for Mr Blackhouse who always made a point of studiously ignoring anyone who was trying to talk to him, and Mr Dickworth who always switched his hearing aid off before falling asleep in his chair.
When Mrs Harper estimated that at least half of her potential audience were looking in the right direction she introduced the young man who was stood by her side.
"This is Mr Roberts" she said. "He has some very exciting news for you all".
Mr Roberts said hello and smiled warmly at everyone, he then went on to explain that he worked for a charity that provided social outings for old-age pensioners. The good news was that the charity had selected the club to be the beneficiary of one of these outings, which was a free coach trip to an art exhibition, and included a free afternoon tea. It would take place on the following Wednesday, and anyone who would like to go had only to give their name to Mrs Harper by the week-end, and a place on the bus would be found for them.
Mr Roberts was a convincing speaker, and upon the mention of the word "Free" a discernible wavelet of enthusiasm dribbled over his audience.
Mr Roberts handed around printed leaflets to everyone, and assured all and sundry that it would be an absolutely super day out, and that he hoped to see lots of people next Wednesday.
As he was leaving, a simpering Pam Harper, who had been coyly playing with her hair during Mr Robert's presentation shook his hand in both of hers, and then waved good-bye to him from the door.
Auntie Vera noticed that Pam Harper was wearing her best overall. She also thought that Mr Roberts was not only a bit foreign but  probably gay as well.

Despite her innate distrust of every other member of the human race, Auntie Vera put her name down for the coach trip. There was an ulterior motive for this. The week before she had gone on a shopping expedition to the local chemists, and upon leaving the chemist's shop one of the wheels had fallen off of her shopping trolly, with the result that a months supply of surgical stockings, denture fixative and cotton-wool balls had cascaded onto the pavement. Some people had tried to help pick up the spilt items, but Vera believing that they were trying to rob her had attacked them with her handbag with such violence that bloodshed was only avoided by the intervention of a patrolling policeman.
The errant wheel of the shopping trolly which had caused the problem, could not be fixed back on, and Auntie Vera had been forced to replace her disabled shopping trolly with a new one, which now sat in all of its gleaming beige polyvinyl majesty in the corner of her kitchen, and she was keen to show it off to as many people as possible. She thought that the coach trip would provide an ideal showcase.

Thus it was that the following Wednesday morning Auntie Vera and her new shopping trolly boarded the coach that would take her and the other members of the pensioner's club to the art exhibition. She would normally have sat next to her friend Kitty Gasket, but the size and bulk of the trolly meant that it needed its own seat, and so Kitty Gasket was forced to sit next to Dolly Lovegrove instead.
At 76 Dolly Lovegrove was a mere spring chicken within the group - if not a chick in the normally recognised sense. Despite this she had a bit of a reputation, partly explained by her wearing of dresses that were too low at the top and too high at the other end.
It was widely thought - with some justification - that if Dolly was not exactly a woman of loose morals, it could be said that her morals were not anchored down as firmly as most other people's. This view was reinforced when Dolly started a conversation in a loud voice with Kitty Gasket over the ideal size of the physical attributes of the opposite sex. Kitty, who's knowledge of unbridled lust was limited to the memory of an uncomfortable weekend with the lights out in a Margate guest house fifty years previously, was interested to know more and asked a number of detailed technical questions and began to make copious notes on the back of a knitting pattern.
The reason for Dolly Lovegrove's discourse was that she had designs upon Eric Pemberton who was sitting two rows ahead of them. Eric was considered to be a sporting type on account of his long membership of the local pub darts team, and Dolly was keen to see if his sporting prowess extended to other activities.
Eric Pemberton for his part tried to reduce the highly charged atmosphere within the coach by leaning across the aisle and asking Auntie Vera where she had purchased her new shopping trolly from. He was met with a withering glare for his trouble, and quickly hunched back down in his seat and pretended to read the newspaper while Dolly with the subtlety of a thousand bomber air raid launched into a long monologue about a sailor she once knew with an interesting tattoo.

The exhibition was titled "The best of British art" and true to its name housed some impressive pieces. A large number of priceless paintings and sculptures from all of the leading artists were tastefully displayed within a large hall.
The visiting pensioners upon being released from the coach, preceded to amble through the exhibition hall looking for the toilets, somewhere to sit down, the location of the tea room, and occasionally at the artwork itself.
Within the hall was a life-size bronze casting of Adonis, and upon rounding a corner Auntie Vera and Kitty Gasket found themselves face to face with it. The two old ladies thought it only right to give the piece of artwork a thorough appraisal. Kitty gave the opinion that although the statue was supposedly life-size, her recently acquired knowledge of anatomy meant that part of said statue was slightly smaller than it should be, and she produced a tape measure from her bag to prove the point.

It may be that there was a fault in the casting, or possibly it was the rough handling which in the past had prevented Kitty Gasket getting a repeat invitation to Margate that was to blame, but whatever it was, the net result was that Adonis's bronze manhood fell onto the ground with a metallic thud and rolled across the floor before coming to rest below a watercolour of Lake Windermere.
The two old ladies gazed in horror at what had happened. 
Auntie Vera was the first to react. She grabbed Kitty by the arm and hauled her away from the area, while berating her friend for her clumsiness.

A tirade of abuse from Auntie Vera is not a pleasant thing to behold, and Kitty was feeling very sorry for herself. She could also not see what all the fuss was about. It was only a load of paintings and badly put together sculptures after all!
She was saved from further humiliation by the appearance of Mr Roberts, who was busy rounding up everyone for the high tea that was being served in an adjacent room. He pointed out a door to the right.
"Help yourselves to anything you want" he said before disappearing to track down some more of his charges.
Mr Roberts was not to know it, but those six words were to cost the nation a great deal of money. Kitty took the words "Help yourselves to anything you want" at face value.
When Auntie Vera went off to the toilet, and entrusted her new shopping trolly to Kitty to look after while she was away, Kitty returned to the exhibition hall and removed a small painting that her friend had admired, and secreted it within the cavernous interior of the trolly. She reasoned that it would be a nice surprise for Auntie Vera when she found it, and it would make up for the potentially embarrassing scene that had happened earlier on.

The theft of a piece of artwork is a very serious matter. In terms of police manpower allocated, and resources provided to recover stolen artwork it knocks things like burglary detection and finding stolen cars into a cocked hat. A huge police operation was undertaken with initially no visible results. Three weeks later, the police resorted to television and newspaper appeals, and it was through the newspapers that Auntie Vera learned that the picture which was currently covering a damp patch in her bathroom was on the list of the nation's most wanted items. The newspaper stated that not only had the painting been stolen, but an act of vandalism had been done to a bronze statue at the same time. With an unusual display of false modesty, the media had not said which specific part of the statue had been vandalised, although made up for it by stating that the sculptor was so dejected by what had happened that it was unlikely that he would ever regain the blissful state of jection again.

Auntie Vera had assumed that when she had found the painting in her trolly some days after the coach trip, that she had bought it somewhere and had forgotten that she had done so. Realising that she had a priceless piece of artwork in her possession presented her with a dilemma. She briefly toyed with the idea of selling it via "dodgy" Mick Sullivan the semi-retired receiver of stolen goods who sat by the television in the old people's club. She knew for a fact that he still dabbled on the shadowy fringes of the underworld as he had been very reticent about where the new tyres for his wheelchair had come from. If she did sell to Dodgy Mick she would have enough money to upgrade her trolly to the super de-luxe model with tartan trim, which was an almost irresistible temptation, but the thought of fifteen years in prison if she was caught put her off, and so she gave the painting to the local scout group for their jumble sale instead.

A civilian purchasing officer for the local police force was the one who discovered the missing painting. He had gone to the jumble sale as part of his remit to purchase low price equipment for the force, and was haggling with the scoutmaster over the price of two dozen tear gas grenades when he spotted the painting nestling on the crockery and decoration stall. (His boss later received a medal for the discovery/recovery). Unfortunately, none of the boy scouts could remember who had donated the picture, and in order to justify the large amount of money spent on the case, the police were obliged to tear the scout hut to bits.

Still, all's well that ends well. It was a grand day out, and Dolly Lovegrove often thinks of it when she polishes the ornament that she picked up off the floor of the art exhibition.