11) The Boatman's Brasserie - An Outrage

Dear Reader, an outrage has occurred.   I am almost too upset to recount the story.   But as you know that's not the way The Scone Ranger is built.     Today I travelled to the Boatman's Brasserie in Rufford by the No 2a bus that travels between Ormskirk and Preston, although I could have taken the train to Rufford Station from Ormskirk.  The Boatman's Brasserie overlooks St Mary's Marina. The views are lovely on a summers day and there are nice walks to Rufford Old Hall along the Rufford Extension of the Leeds Liverpool Canal.  I particularly like the walk along the River Douglas to Croston. That also starts from here. 

I arrived at lunchtime.  It was getting busy.  They have a fabulous selection of cakes.  Some of them are so big that they clearly are defying gravity the way the cream is piled high.  I wanted to ask the woman behind the counter if they were homemade but she looks a bit stern and I thought better of it.  Its not that I was intimidated (oh no, not me) but The Scone Ranger has learnt over the years when to leave well alone.  Besides it seems obvious that this much cream could only have been piled on this high by a patissier who is skilled in the construction of scaffolding and perhaps less in cake making.

The cakes were of various prices.  I had the Rocky Road and a small pot of tea.  It was £5 and the place was busy.   £5. (Five pounds)  I did not realise it but clearly I had run into a secret society where every other customer (other than yours truly) was a lottery winner because who else could afford cake at that price. 

I now realised I must have misread the price tag on one of the cakes, it was not MIllionaire's Shortbread, it was Billionaire shortbread.

It was like the scene at the beginning of Blade where the young guy in the night club suddenly realises that everyone else is a vampire.   Was there a mirror in the bathroom I thought?   Am I the only one who finds this strange.  I suddenly felt out of place and it was not because I was sitting in a West Lancashire Tea Room wearing a white ten gallon hat.   I could not afford £5 for tea and cake.

What would I tell Mrs R, I'd spent my week's lunch money on one slice of cake?
I decided to  risk all and savour the moment.  While I may have been there a bit longer than normal, it was strictly necessary while I took my time over the cake that had cost me £3.25 for a single slice.  £3.25.  And dear reader I was also feeling a bit low at this time.  A dear friend of mine has met a tragic early end in very distressing circumstances.    While he was walking on Blackpool Beach a huge piece of concrete fell and crushed him.   He had been warned of the dangers and told not to, but despite this his friends urged him on to the beach.  The police say he died because of pier pressure.

All of a sudden the moment was shattered.  The woman from behind the counter suddenly appeared at the table and told me that I'd been there long enough and they needed the table for other people.  I was being thrown out.  I had paid the ransom and yet I was being asked to leave.   I was tempted, Dear Reader, to rip off my mask and say "Do you know who I am, I am The Scone Ranger," and to denounce the place.  But that would have been the end of my mission in West Lancashire.  I would have gone the same way as Kendo Nagasaki after he was unmasked.  The mystery would have gone.  Kendo seemed just a normal man without his secret identity.  Therefore, I took the humiliation so that I could continue to serve you.  

The next time I bring a posse through the Rufford area I may have to think about whether we would come to the Boatman's Brasserie.