‘I’m glad you’re having fun, m’dear,’ he said, ‘but I think we’d better circulate, what?’ He led Haddock away in the direction of another small group of people.
‘Another charming fellow,’ said Lady Hardcastle as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘Where on earth did they dig them all up? And why do they keep picking on me?’
‘It’s because you’re such a lovely piece,’ I said. ‘You’re bound to attract the nicer sort of chap.’
‘Is a lady still allowed to flog her servants? I’m sure there used to be a law that said I could.’
‘I couldn’t say, my lady, but I think that might be frowned upon in this day and age.’
‘Pity,’ she said. ‘Oh, I say, who’s that chap?’
She indicated an elegantly-dressed young man of Indian appearance whom Haddock had engaged in earnest conversation.
‘That, my lady,’ I said, eager to show off, ‘is Mr Bikash Verma, emissary of the King of Nepal and best friend of the prince.’
‘Gracious,’ she said, though whether she was impressed more by his exoticism or my own knowledge I couldn’t tell. ‘I never knew the Farley-Strouds were so well connected.’
‘I believe he’s an acquaintance of Miss Clarissa,’ I said. ‘Through one of her London friends.’
‘Well I never. It might yet turn out to be an intriguing evening,’ she said. She took a sip of her drink and grimaced. ‘I say, be a love and see if you can’t find me something nicer to drink. I bet he’s hidden the good stuff somewhere. Have a scout round and see if you can find me a brandy. I shall turn quite green if I have to sip any more of this sparkling cooking wine.’
‘Yes, my lady. I shall see what I can lay my hands on.’
The ballroom opened directly into the main entrance hall and I crossed to the corridor to the left of the grand staircase, on my way to the library. I had no real idea where to begin looking for brandy, but I wondered if the decanters full of the “good stuff” might be stashed in the one room where guests were expressly forbidden to go.
I arrived at the library door and reached for the handle and was startled to feel it pulled from my grasp by someone opening the door from within.
‘Oh, I say,’ said a strikingly pretty young woman. ‘I’m so terribly sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. Just fetching something from my bag. Didn’t expect there to be anyone about.’
‘Please don’t worry, madam,’ I said, thinking frantically. ‘I was just... checking that no guests had wandered into the library to interfere with the band’s things.’
‘It’s all safe and well, thank you. We’re being well looked after.’
And then I realized who she was. This was Sylvia Montgomery, the singer with the ragtime band.
‘I’m pleased to hear it, madam. May I say I’m enjoying the music very much. You’re very good.’
‘Why thank you, you’re very kind. I say, you couldn’t do a girl another kindness and tell me where I might find some decent booze, could you? I’m absolutely parched and champagne gives me a headache.’
‘Oh,’ I said, somewhat disappointed. ‘I’d been hoping to find something in there. I’m not actually on the staff here, I work for one of the Farley-Strouds’ neighbours.’
‘Come to steal their booze, eh? Don’t worry, I’ll not let on.’
I laughed. ‘Yes, my mistress sent me in search of brandy. The sparkling wine isn’t agreeing with her.’
‘I know how she feels, but I’m afraid you’re out of luck here, old thing. I turned the library upside down but there’s not a drop to be had. He’s got one of those old fashioned globe whatnots in there – you know the sort that opens up – but he’s taken all the liquor out.’
‘How very disappointing,’ I said. ‘Heigh ho, I shall have to continue my search elsewhere. The household servants are bound to know where I can find something.’
‘Bound to.’ She made to leave. ‘If you manage to track any down – scotch, brandy, even gin at a pinch – see if you can’t smuggle some onto the stage for us. We’ll make it worth your while.’ And with that she breezed off down the corridor, back towards the ballroom.
I walked in the other direction and went through the door that led downstairs to the servants’ domain.
Miss Denton’s door was shut, but there was a light coming from under the door. I knocked. There was a clatter of hasty tidying and then the imperious voice. ‘Yes?’
I opened the door and poked my head in. ‘What ho, Maude,’ I said. ‘Don’t mean to intrude.’
‘Flo!’ she said with evident relief. ‘You frightened the blessed life out of me. I thought you were old Jenkins come snooping.’
‘You’re hiding out?’ I asked, not terribly impressed by the idea of hiding in the first place one might be expected to be.
‘Just a quick break, don’tcha know,’ she said, gesturing towards the half-concealed glass on the side table. ‘A girl needs to wet her whistle.’
‘She does indeed. Is that brandy, by any chance?’
‘The very best,’ she said, proudly. ‘They hide it in here when they have guests.’
‘Well that’s a stroke of luck. I don’t suppose you can spare a drop? My mistress is desperate for something to take the taste of the fizz away.’
‘I expect we can sort her out, my dear,’ she said, slightly slurred. ‘They’ve not quite got round to marking the decanter. Not yet, at least. Fetch a glass from the shelf and we’ll transfer it to something more elegant upstairs.’
I did as she asked and left her to her brandy-fuelled shirking, wondering if anyone actually did any work in this household. Perhaps Mrs Brown had a right to be angry after all if she were the only one of them doing her job.
I set off once more for the ballroom. I was wary lest I should be caught smuggling contraband cognac back to Lady Hardcastle in a servant’s glass but I encountered no one. I had to check my step a little as I rounded a corner and heard the library door closing, but whoever it was was on their way into the room and I decided that it was none of my concern. It did remind me that I’d been asked to undertake a little more smuggling on behalf of the musicians, but I really couldn’t face going all the way back to Old Ma Lushington and trying to snaffle some scotch from her secret stash. And when it came right down to it, she was responsible for the booze, and as idle as I was beginning to think her, I didn’t really want to get her into any trouble by pinching it. The band would have to play sober. If they could.
‘Armstrong!’ proclaimed Lady Hardcastle as I approached. ‘You’re an absolute gem. A proper little darling wonder. A servant beyond compare.’ Evidently, the sparkling wine’s unpalatable flavour hadn’t actually been inhibiting her consumption of it overmuch. ‘What?’ she said as I proffered the cheap glass filled with its expensive cognac. ‘No brandy balloon? I take it all back. You’re a slattern and an idler.’