The Carlton Club saga: The Building Company speaks

‘They are actually squatting in our property, and they’re making money from that’

By Jack Dulhanty

In the beer garden of the Carlton Club, on one of the last balmy evenings of a summer still gasping, members and concerned locals gather around and talk about their beloved club’s uncertain future. Bandit, a vocal Jack Russell with panda eyes that make him look like a bank robber, struts the grounds barking at nothing.  

Across the wooden picnic benches looking out onto the bowling green, conversations centre on the shocking eviction notice served in March to the club by its building company. These two entities, the club and the building company, used to fall under one umbrella. But the club becoming a CIC changed all that, and gave forth to a wrangle over who has rightful claim to the place, and whom in the community it should serve. We covered this in detail last weekend. 

To catch you up: The Carlton Club has been in Whalley Range since 1913. Originally, it was owned and operated by one limited company called Carlton Social and Bowling Club Building Company (the Building Company herein). 

Then in 2019, the membership — which had evolved from a few early 20th century men of means to a mixed group of over a hundred 21st century south Manchester suburbians — decided they wanted to take the club aspect of the Building Company, an informal social committee, and incorporate it into a Community Interest Company (the CIC herein). This left the club in the control the CIC and the building, Rowan Lodge, in the control of the Building Company.

In the years before becoming a CIC, the club's programming was revamped, transforming it from the more typical social club it had been in the past (cheap beer, snooker, darts) into a multipurpose space, hosting DJ nights, yoga classes, gardening workshops and seminars. Nowadays, the Carlton Club’s membership has surpassed 1,000 people and is considered a stalwart of the community.

Illustration: Jake Greenhalgh.

Meanwhile, since 2021, new directors have joined the Building Company who concerned the CIC. (More on that later). The changes made members question the Building Company’s motives, and whether it still had the community’s interest at heart. Three directors appointed a month before the eviction notice drew particular attention — and scorn. “Those new directors have come on board with a totally different interest,” one long-term member, who asked not to be named, says. “And that’s to make money.”

Which brings us back to the beer garden. “It’s greed against community,” says Eamonn, one member who has been coming to the club since the ‘80s. He’s sitting with Darren, a member of the CIC’s board, who flicks the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray from an impressive distance and gives a self-congratulatory nod when he does so. There’s also other members who come and go, saying their piece then heading to another table. In speaking to them, it's clear they feel the Building Company no longer represents their interests like the CIC does. 

This is despite the fact that the Building Company has so far been silent about its plans, even as public pressure has mounted and the CIC’s campaign to maintain control of the club and fight eviction has gained traction. Although, heading into the meeting, this is about to change.

The meeting is held in the main room of the Carlton Club under a disco ball still turning. I count around 50 people on the assortment of chairs, benches and at cocktail tables dotted around the room. The CIC board gives a presentation about the steps of the Save Our Club campaign, launched in August in a bid to keep the club on the premises. The campaign has been savvy, earning them press pickup as well as a mention in the House of Commons; they’ve raised nearly £25,000 for legal fees.

There is an air of optimism, even braggadocio, to the whole affair. The board says the directors of the Building Company don’t have the funds to take them on legally. One board member, Jan Mugg, says what she wants from the Building Company is its “absolute capitulation, of course”. But that outcome remains far from guaranteed.

The meeting ends in applause, and the headline message is one of optimism and hope. As the audience disbands, people gather in small crowds to discuss. Others go up to the stage to shake hands with and buttonhole the board members, and overall things are jovial. Then a slight man walks in sporting a pair of rimless glasses and a goatee: Balmaine St. Claver Craig, although this is misspelt “Graig” on Companies House. He is one of the new directors appointed earlier this year, and he has come to make a statement.