Crown Green Bowls

CHAPTER EIGHT

    Bond, in need of a set of bowls for his coming match with Goldnojaws, was fortunate that Stockport boasted one of crown green bowls’ leading retail outlets, Premier Bowls. There was a woman already being served when he arrived there so he had to wait.
     The woman, after much um-ing and er-ing, testing the patience of the assistant behind the counter, finally made her choice. "I’ll have the Thomas Taylor Express I think.”
     “Well you won’t get any better,” said the relieved assistant. “I play with them myself.”
     The woman, fortyish, with a suspicion of a moustache, took out her cheque book. “Eighty four pounds wasn’t it?”
     “That’s it. Unless you’d like I.D. on the inserts? Only a couple of quid extra”
     “Oh I hadn’t thought about that.” The assistant prepared for another long wait while she made up her mind and was already beginning to wish he’d never made the suggestion when the woman surprised him by saying: “Go on then. It'll make them more personal won’t it.” She included Bond in the conversation. “Nice when your things are personalised, isn’t it.”
     “Quite so,” agreed Bond.
     “ I’ve always wanted one of them personalised number plates on my car. Have you got a personalised number plate?"
     “Er, never bothered,” lied Bond, not wanting to admit he was currently the driver of P00 7.
     “Trouble is they’re so expensive, aren’t they.”
     “Well that depends,” said the assistant. “It depends on the number. A W then the number, like say AW 365, would only set you back about a thousand quid. But if the number was AW 1 it could be thirty or forty grand. And if it was A1, well that would be a hundred grand, maybe more. Scarcity you see.”
     The woman was thought about this for a moment. “Yes, I see what you mean. I mean there can’t be all that many people called A1 can there.”