We nodded our greetings. Dawkins winked at me. I rolled my eyes and turned away.
‘I’m Harry Featherstonhaugh, by the way,’ said Harry from the back of the group. ‘Just in case you were wondering.’
By this time, the ladies had reached us.
‘What’s this, Fishy?’ said Lady Lavinia. ‘Have we missed the introductions?’
‘Lawks,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘Umm . . . Lavinia, Roz, Helen . . . This is Florence Armstrong.’
‘A little perfunctory, dear,’ said Lady Lavinia. ‘But it shall have to do. Good morning, Miss Armstrong.’ She smiled at me. ‘We’ve heard so much about you.’
‘I’ll say,’ said Helen Titmus quietly, with a smile and a wave. ‘Super to meet you at last.’
The corners of Rosamund Beddows’s mouth flicked briefly upwards in an approximation of a smile of greeting, but she resumed her studied, disdainful expression almost immediately and looked away.
‘Well, that’s that all done,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘Is everybody ready for some fun? What do you say we get on with the racing?’
There were cheers all round.
‘Splendid,’ he said, clapping his hands. ‘Now who’s got the race card?’
Harry held up the sheet of paper I’d seen in the great hall. ‘Here, Fishy,’ he said.
Lord Riddlethorpe took the proffered paper and glanced at it. ‘Right, I’m in car number one,’ he said, walking towards the motor. ‘Fanners, you’re in two, Dawkins is in three and Viktor, you’re in your own silver machine, number four. Three laps of the circuit, and we’ll forgo the foot race and start in the motors with the engines running . . .’
‘Wait a moment,’ said Lady Lavinia, stepping towards him and taking the sheet of paper. ‘I think you’ll find that the ladies’ race is first.’ She indicated the race card, where, sure enough, the ladies’ race was listed first.
‘Just politeness, Jake,’ he said plaintively. ‘It’s my track; I say who gets to go first.’
She sighed. ‘You’re such a child, Edmond Codrington. We’ll toss for it. Who has a coin?’
Harry rummaged in his trouser pocket and pulled out a florin.
‘Two bob, Fanners?’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘I had no idea you Foreign Office Johnnies were so well paid.’
‘It’s surprising how much money a chap can make if he’s prepared to lift a finger and do an honest day’s toil,’ said Harry.
‘Will the two of you just shut up and toss the blessed coin,’ said Lady Lavinia impatiently.
With a grin, Harry dutifully shut up and tossed the coin.
‘Heads,’ called Lady Lavinia as it reached the top of its arc.
It landed with a ringing clink on the tarmacadam of the track, and we all bent to examine it.
‘Tails it is, then,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘Gentlemen, to your motor cars.’ He stuck out his tongue at his sister, who harrumphed and turned away.
‘Just a moment,’ said Miss Titmus in her timid voice. ‘Would you mind awfully if I took a couple of photographs? I am the race photographer, after all.’ She held up the camera, which she’d been carefully carrying all this time.
Mrs Beddows sighed. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Titmouse,’ she said. ‘Must we?’
‘Yes, dear, we must,’ said Lady Lavinia. ‘I think it’s a splendid idea before we get all flyblown and oily, or whatever it is that happens during these things. Gentlemen, line up over there.’ She pointed to a spot on the track where it would be possible to get both the men and the motor cars into the shot. ‘How’s that, Helen, dear?’
‘Wonderful, thank you, Lavinia,’ said Miss Titmus.
The men dutifully lined up, and Miss Titmus positioned herself for the photograph.
‘Not yet,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘Fanners is still smiling.’
Harry, whose gaze seemed to be on Lady Lavinia, was indeed smiling, but he quickly composed himself, now blushing.
‘I honestly don’t know why we’re not allowed to smile,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Future generations will think us a frightfully po-faced, miserable lot.’
‘Oh, just get on with it, Titmouse,’ said Mrs Beddows. ‘We haven’t got all day to wait for you and your stupid camera.’
Miss Titmus took a few more seconds to compose her shot and then snapped the photograph.
‘At last,’ said Mrs Beddows, striding towards the motor cars for her own picture. ‘Come on, Jake, let’s get it over with.’
Lady Lavinia ushered Lady Hardcastle and me towards the designated spot. It looked for a moment as though Mrs Beddows might be about to object to my presence, but she held her tongue.
‘Come on, girls,’ said Lady Hardcastle brightly, once we were in position. ‘What say we break with convention and show posterity that we really can have fun? Everybody smile.’
Lady Lavinia and I dutifully tried to smile, but Lady Hardcastle remained unimpressed. ‘Hopeless,’ she said. ‘Harry? Tell us one of your jokes.’
‘What?’ said Harry. ‘Well . . . I . . . er . . . This chap goes into a pub . . . and . . . er . . .’
‘Hopeless,’ she said again. ‘Oh, I know what.’ She gathered us into a huddle and whispered to us all. Propriety prevents me from repeating what she said to us, so it shall have to suffice to say that it left Lady Lavinia and me guffawing, and even Mrs Beddows grudgingly sniggered.
We returned hurriedly to our places, genuine smiles on our lips, and Miss Titmus took her photograph.
‘Splendid,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘And now let’s race. Gentlemen, to your motors!’
It took a few minutes for the men to pull overalls over their day clothes. There followed a small amount of fiddle-faddling once they were in their motors while Morgan went along the line cranking the engines to life.
Miss Titmus hadn’t struck me as the sort of woman to become particularly animated under any circumstances, but as the drivers prepared to race, she scarcely stopped moving. Crouching here, leaning there, even standing on one leg, and all to get just one more photograph.
Harry gunned his engine as she pointed her camera at him. This elicited a monstrous roar from beneath the green bonnet of the motor car, which startled him. To our delight, this was the moment Miss Titmus’s shutter clicked. He waved, grinning sheepishly as she moved on.
Lord Riddlethorpe didn’t notice her, so intent was he on the dials and controls in his cockpit. She captured an image of rapt concentration, and moved on again.
Herr Kovacs didn’t notice her, either. He was intent on the newer, experimental motor car beside him. I imagined a study of nonchalance as the shutter clicked, and Miss Titmus moved on once more.
Ellis Dawkins saw her and mugged at the camera. Even through his goggles we could see his cheeky wink.
Finally, she turned her camera on Mr Waterford and snapped a picture of him as he prepared to bring down his starter’s flag.