At some point in the 1970s there was a Christmas party where the hosts served mulled wine in their flat in Woodstock near Blenheim Palace.

Unfortunately the wine was left to mull for so long that the desired level of intoxication for a successful Christmas party was not achieved. There was a drift to a local pub where several of the partygoers discovered that they shared a common passion for poker. Thus began the first of the publishing investment committee meetings. They still happen.
The cast of characters has changed over the years and I won't list them in full for fear of legal action but perhaps the first names and descriptor may help identification for those versed in the history of British publishing:
Alan (lexicographer), Simon (academic marketing), Jon (international sales), Iradj ( academic publisher), Ivon (managing director), Marshall (educational software), David (legal sales), Stephen (ELT sales), Tim He (author), Adam (philosophy editor), Robert (history editor), Tim H (medical publisher), Tony J (accountant), Anton (actor), David C (academic publisher), Bob C (science publisher), Mike (science and legal publisher), Denis (IT inventor), Andrew S (textbook editor), John D (editor) and many others. A clue - there are three current members of the Publishers Association Council in this list.
Having set the scene I can now share with you the confidential minutes of one of the early meetings as supplied by the Secretary to the Investment Committee:
An Episode of Asquith
Polstead Road, Oxford, Friday, 3 November 1978, 11 pm. Fog.
A light is dimly visible from the basement window of a large house. The house is otherwise dark. You make your way through the rhododendrons and crouch to look in. To the left you see a heavy Victorian press, its top crowded with bottles. Beside it seven men are gathered round an oval mahogany table that fills most of the room. Each appears to be taking turns at throwing notes into a large pile of money in the centre of the table. There is a pause followed by loud groans. Long arms reach out to gather in the money. They belong to a lanky young man sitting opposite the window. He has a pipe dangling from one corner of his mouth and his features are half-hidden by a black hat tilted jauntily over his forehead.
Time to go in.
“Ah, there you are. Nice to see you. Glass of wine? Red OK? Squeeze in here between Washbag and Sharkfin. Need some change? Twenty OK? You know these reprobates? Richard, Simon, Jon, Bob, Alan, Adam. Right, it’s my choice of game I think. A round of Asquith?”
“Oh not bloody Asquith, Ivon. Sue’s going to kill me as it is.”
“It’s your choice next Richard. Does everyone know the rules? You don’t? Well, it’s basically two down three up pass the card eights wild high low two changes the first free the second the last bet for an up card and twice for a down. You'll soon get the hang of it. It’s your deal. Don’t forget the ante. Just a fiver at this stage. Oops, no, deal one card at a time. Sorry, yes I'm afraid it’s double for a misdeal. Try again. Well done. Try to keep your voices down Simon and Bob. The landlady’s asleep on the next floor.”
By the last round of the hand everyone has dropped out except Ivon and Adam. Ivon is now showing a five, a two, and a wild eight. Adam shows a six and an ace, and also has an eight. They appear to be going low. It is Ivon’s bet.
“I think I’ll pass.”
Adam opens his wallet and takes out two ten pound notes.
“Twenty.”
There is a long pause while Ivon scrutinizes his cards.
“I’m not sure I believe you. You’ve got a dirty hole. Your twenty and raise you thirty.”
“O.K. Asquith, just this once I’ll be kind. Your thirty and see you.”
“Damn. All right then. Under the table.”
Both take two coins and put their hands under the table. A few minutes pass. “Get on with it you two can’t you?”
Eventually each extends one clenched fist across the table and at the same moment they open their hands with a flourish. There is a single coin on both outstretched palms.
“Good grief. Going high. Hard luck Ivon. Nice try.”
Adam flips over his two down cards to show an ace and a six.
“Full house. Aces on sixes.”
“Oh well done Adam. What a fantastic concealed high.” Ivon turns over his cards. He has an eight and a five. “But I seem to have four fives. What jolly hard luck.”
Later...
“You’ve all got to go? So soon? It’s only 3.30. OK who wants notes for coins? Noone has any coins? Yes, I do seem to have rather a lot. I’ll keep them as change for the next meeting, and what about the next? 24th? and what about a pre-Christmas game on 22nd December? Thanks Bob, I did do reasonably well this evening. Luck of the cards.” He takes out a slim black book. “I’ll just note down the total. Oh Jon, I’ve got an IOU here for £30.”
“I haven’t got £30, Ivon. How’s your hifi?
“I haven’t got a hifi.”
“Have mine.”
“Does it work?”
“Yes.”
“OK.”
“I’ll bring it to the next meeting. I don’t know why I bother. You’ll just fleece me again.”
“Nonsense. You won last time. OK chaps see you soon. Could you see yourselves orff quietly please? The landlady sleeps.”