“Max Reid was a well-heeled Toronto bookmaker, who had migrated from England. He and Alice, his mistress, would pull up behind the cottage in a chauffeured limousine…

“My grandparents had met him aboard ship on their return from a visit to England. In those days, his rough East-End edges were plain to see. Kibbitzing on the fringe of a high-stakes bridge game that he himself lacked the means to enter, Grandpa was impressed by Reid’s bravado. Moneyed players did their utmost to ostracize the outsider at the table, but he kept his head. Eventually, he fleeced them all. Grandpa and Granny congratulated him at the bar the next evening, and in Toronto the three remained friends…

“Max’s habitual contribution” to the Dominion Day celebration “was a basket of delicacies from the Royal York Hotel. He would wink at the menfolk and explain he had requested ‘something to ward off starvation while out camping with the boys.’ At that Alice would smile indulgently. All present were aware that the ever-invisible Mrs. Reid was at home in Toronto. This impropriety left Granny and Auntie Lou to relapse into self-conscious small-talk while my mother gnashed her teeth. But the excitement on opening his hamper–an honour always assigned to me–infallibly restored the festive mood. Nestled inside would be a cornucopia of cold cuts, cheeses, pâtés chutneys, and cellophane-wrapped fruits, all calculated to last well beyond that one meal.” (pp. 25-6)

Granny and Grandpa’s circle of friends was remarkably heterogeneous. Max and Alice no doubt were among the most exceptional, but in fact their gatherings could include participants ranging from hoi polloi to the elite, all somehow made to feel at ease. Especially for any children present, that diversity served as a lesson in good manners designed to exclude no one. Precisely how such inclusivity functioned remained mysterious, but joining in was always a privilege.

Have you chanced upon anything like it, either in real life or in literature? If you have, perhaps you could explain in a Comment.

(Illustration generated by AI)


Discover more from R. C. Highcroft

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.