by Rhoda Baxter
"I have some questions to ask you. Who is that woman with the red hair that's taking photos of people?"
"That's Amber. From Cause Celeb."
"The magazine that's like Tattler?"
"That's the one."
Lady Beryl drew herself up to her full height. "She has not taken a photo of me and my husband."
"Oh dear," said Stevie. "I'm sure she meant to. Why don't you go ask her?"
"What? And beg to have my photo taken? No Stephanie. You will ask her."
Stevie sighed. "Okay. She's in the bar. You find Lord Grayingham. I'll ask her."
"I would prefer to be photographed in the library," said Lady Beryl. "We shall wait in there."
Stevie considered running off to a different part of the house. She was tired and in desperate need of a sit down and stiff drink. But she knew Lady Beryl would eventually catch up with her and she was too tired to think of an excuse as to why she hadn't found Amber, so she dragged herself into the bar and tapped the journalist on the shoulder.
Amber laughed when she explained the situation. "You'd be amazed how often that happens. We usually just take a haphazard photo and it keeps them happy." She stood grabbed her glass and her camera. "Lead me to them."
"Before you go," Tom said. "It's nearly midnight. I'm going to do last orders. Is that okay?"
Midnight. Oh good. Only a few more hours to go and she could go to bed. "Yes, that's fine. Thanks for keeping it going for as long as you have." She gave him a grateful smile and ushered Amber towards the library.
Once the photo of Lady Beryl and Lord Grayingham, who was red in the face and wobbly from drink, had been taken, Amber made her apologies and said good-bye. Stevie found Amber's coat for her and saw her to the door.
"I'll tell you something," said Amber. "I didn't want to come to this, but I'm glad I did. It's been fun. And..." She patted her pockets to check that she had everything. "I think I've found the perfect place for my Mum and Dad to come on their thirtieth wedding anniversary. I spoke to the bar guy. Tom, is it? Sounds like it's pretty reasonable room rates for such a lovely house."
"Brilliant, I'm glad." Stevie felt happy that Evelyn's plans were working out as well. She waited with Amber until the taxi arrived and waved her off.
Standing outside the house, she felt reluctant to go back in. Every spare minute she seemed to be wanted by somebody. Still, this was her job. She had to get on with it. She went back inside and shut the door. She was just wondering whether she could take her shoes off and carry on with her duties bare foot, when her phone rang. She checked the display, it was Evelyn. The food was all gone, so there couldn't be anything important that Evelyn wanted now. She ignored the call.
Simultaneously, Lady Beryl's voice shouted "Stephanie!"
Stevie groaned. The last thing she wanted to do was to talk to that old bat again. All she wanted was five minutes peace.
"Stephanie? Where is that girl?" Lady Beryl was getting closer.
Spotting the door to the coat cupboard, Stevie darted in and shut the door behind her.
The only light in the cupboard was a thin line from under the door. After a few seconds, Stevie's eyes adjusted enough for her to step over the few items on the floor and find a wall to lean against. As the cupboard took up most of the space underneath the large staircase and only had a coat rail in it, there was plenty of room. She slipped off her shoes and closed her eyes with relief. Outside she could hear Lady Beryl.
"Where is she? I told her something like this would happen. I warned her."
"Actually, I need to speak to her as well." That was Tom's voice. "If I see her, I'll tell her you're looking for her."
"Why aren't you in the bar, anyway?"
"Bar's closed. I called time."
"Well that's a mercy. I don't want that man to have a drop more."
Stevie groaned. This didn't sound good. It sounded like Lady Beryl was going to blame her for Lord Grayingham's inebriation. That was hardly fair. She should get out there and sort it out, regardless. But two more minutes wouldn't hurt, surely?
"I'm going to try the kitchen." Lady Beryl clumped off.
There was a brief silence, followed by a faint beep.
Stevie opened her eyes and stared at the darkness. It was nice in this cupboard. Calm. Besides, she couldn't very well walk out without Tom asking her what she was doing. She might as well stay put for a few minutes. She wriggled her toes and leaned her head back.
Her phone rang, making her jump. She clutched at her bag and tried to fish it out. Outside, footsteps approached the cupboard. Stevie stared at her phone. It was Tom, phoning her. She quickly cancelled the call.
The door opened. "Stevie?" Tom peered into the gloom. "What are you doing?"
Stevie sighed. "Hiding from Lady Beryl. "
Tom glanced over his shoulder and slipped into the cupboard. "She's looking for you, you know," he whispered.
"I know. I know. I just wanted a couple of minutes to myself." She bent her head and turned her phone on to silent. When she looked up, Tom was staring at her, his face ghostly in the light of the phone.
"Poor thing. You've been running around all evening. Have you had anything to eat?"
Stevie had to think about that. She realised she hadn't eaten since lunchtime. No wonder she was feeling awful.
There were footsteps outside. "Normally, Stevie would do this," said Lady Beryl. "But she's disappeared at the moment." There was a scrape as someone put something into the collection box. "Thank you very much. Your donation will be much appreciated. Did you have a coat?"
Tom started and put his hand out to catch himself. His arm dislodged a number of coats and hangers, which crashed to the ground.
"What's going on in there?" Lady Beryl said. Footsteps approached the cupboard.
Stevie's heart was pounding. Bad enough she would be caught hiding in a coat cupboard when she should be out there working, but she was hiding in there with a man. Lady Beryl would have a fit. Hmm. One man in a black suit looked pretty much like another from the back. And he was broad enough to hide her.
The handle turned. Stevie grabbed Tom by the lapels and swung him round so that his back was to the door. Without pausing to think any further, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.
Light fell into the cupboard.
"Oh my goodness!" Lady Beryl made a strangled noise. "How perfectly disgusting! I knew we shouldn't have sold tickets to just any old..." She slammed the cupboard door shut, still talking.
But Stevie didn't hear any more. Because, after a moment of stunned hesitation, Tom was kissing her back with an intensity that said he'd been wanting to do so for a long time. His hands found her hips and pulled her closer. His mouth opened against hers. He tasted slightly spicy and smelled delicious. Stevie melted into his arms. Her fingers explored his curls, easing through the soft ringlets. She felt Tom's hand move up to her face, a thumb stroked her cheek, making her feel warm all over. She could be here like this, kissing him, for ever. He pulled her even closer. She could feel his skin calling to hers through the layers of clothing. All other thoughts emptied from her mind. All she could think of was how much she wanted him.
Suddenly his phone rang. A second later, hers started vibrating madly at her feet, where her bag had ended up.
Tom pulled away with a sigh. "I guess I should get that."
Stevie bowed her head against his chest and sighed. "Me too."
He kissed the top of her head, removed her arms from round his neck and opened the door. Checking that there was no one outside, he stepped out, answering the phone as he did so. "Mum. What's wrong?"
It took Stevie a second to recover her composure. Trying to push all thoughts of the curtailed kiss out of her mind, she rooted in her bag until she found the phone and answered it.
"Where are you?" Lady Beryl demanded.
"I hear you're looking for me, is something wrong?" Stevie pushed the door open and used the light to locate her shoes. They p
inched when she put them back on.
"There are people fornicating in the coat cupboard." Beryl shrieked down the phone.
Fornicating? If only... "Okay, I'll see what--"
"Never mind that," Lady Beryl snapped. "Come to the front room. This is more important. The disco is getting really out of hand."
Oh dear. What could be more pressing than people fornicating in a cupboard? Saying she'd be right there, she shot out of the cupboard, startling a guest who was passing by.
Lady Beryl and Evelyn were standing outside the door to the disco. Lady Beryl stopped talking when she saw Stevie. "What happened to you?"
Stevie realised her hair had come loose during Tom's embrace and was slipping down on one side. "I wasn't looking where I was going... in the garden." She hastily retied it. "What's the matter?"
Lady Beryl pointed dramatically at the door. "Have a look in there."
Stevie opened the door. The disco was going full swing. Dilan had his head down and was swaying with the music as he merged one track into another. The dance floor was a mêlée of coloured light. In the middle was Mr. Farrier, dancing his heart out. His shirt was flapping open, revealing a hairy belly. A small crowd of people were fanned around him, clapping and cheering him on. His wife was dancing opposite him, just out of reach of his energetic limbs.
Stevie sidled up to Dilan, who removed one of his earphones so she could shout in his ear. "How long has this been going on?"
"Isn't it great!" He shouted back. "They're all loving it. I'm going to have bring the cheesy tunes playlist full circle to keep him going."
Stevie opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again. She looked at the people on the dance floor. Most people were watching Mr. Farrier and laughing. The man himself was concentrating hard on his dancing and his wife seemed to be delighted with him. There didn't appear to be any immediate danger from anyone to anyone. And they all seemed to be having fun. The businesslike side of Stevie pointed out that if Mr. Farrier was having fun, he was less likely to think of suing them afterwards.
Mr. Farrier made an expressive move with his hips, which would have been lewd if his belly weren't bouncing along with it. His wife clapped her hands. People cheered. Stevie sidled back out of the room.
Lady Beryl and Evelyn were waiting for her. "Well?" said Lady Beryl.
Stevie stared at her irate face. The vision of Mr. Farrier boogieing on down flashed through her mind. A giggle rose in her throat and burst out before she could stop it.
"Well, aren't you going to put a stop to it?"
Lady Beryl was so annoyed, it made Stevie laugh all the more. Evelyn's mouth began to twitch. She opened the door and peeked in. Then she too began to laugh. Soon the two of them were leaning against the wall, gasping for breath. Lady Beryl made huffing noises.
"I'm sorry Lady Beryl," said Stevie wiping tears away from her eyes. "But have you seen him? It's so so funny."
Lady Beryl seemed to deflate a little. She peered into the room. "Oh my goodness." Her face was a picture of horror. "He's taken his shirt off and is twirling it round his head!"
Stevie and Evelyn collapsed in more peals of laughter. After a moment, Lady Beryl smiled. "I suppose it is rather funny," she conceded.
"Funny, oh Beryl, it's hilarious," said Evelyn. "I think I shall have to go find a tissue." She looked at Stevie and laughed again. "Your makeup, dear."
Stevie took gulps of air, trying to get a lid on her mirth. "Right. I'd better go fix it." She was breathing hard as giggles threatened to overwhelm her again. She set off to find a bathroom, wiping her eyes and occasionally giggling.
Chapter 19
Stevie had cleaned off her smudged mascara and got the giggles under control by the time she ran into Tom again. He was frowning.
"What's up?" She thought of the last time she'd seen him and her arms itched to wrap themselves around him again. She was back in professional mode now, she told herself. Her hands curled into fists in order to resist the temptation to touch him.
"I seem to have lost Alice. Mum was looking for her. I've searched everywhere and I can't find her."
"Have you checked the cupboards?" Stevie bit her lip. That had come out before she'd had time to censor it.
He gave her a sideways glance, his eyes twinkling. "Even the cupboards." His expression went serious again. "The last time I saw her, she was heading off with those girls. I'm worried they're up to something."
Now Stevie was worried too. Thinking back, she realized the girls had all disappeared as soon as Pete left, which was some time ago now. "I'll help you look. Where have you checked?"
Tom ran through the list of places he'd been. "That just leaves the family's rooms and the basement rooms."
Stevie was likely to get lost if she tried to find Alice's room, so she suggested she took the basement while Tom ran up to the residential rooms.
The basement consisted of a number of small rooms that were used as storerooms, offices and one downstairs reading room. As Stevie descended the stairs, she heard voices. Oh good. They were here. She felt a wave of relief. If they'd left the house to go clubbing, finding them would have been next to impossible.
She followed the voices to one of the rooms and opened the door. The curtains had been drawn and the girls were sitting on the floor. The room was illuminated by candles, set in saucers and dangerously close to the shelves of paperbacks. All four girls looked up. Stevie flicked on the main light.
"What's going on?" Her eyes took in the girls' appearance. They seemed slightly glazed and were slow to react. They were drunk.
The open candle flames danced.
They were drunk and had put the house at risk.
Anger flared in Stevie. "Well?"
"None of your business," snapped Veronica.
Stevie ignored her. "Alice, get those candles out. They could set fire to the books." She strode in and began pinching the candles off, one by one.
"Hey!" Veronica stood up, unsteadily. "Who are you to come in here--"
"I," said Stevie, "am a very angry adult." As she neared the girl she smelled alcohol. She looked around until she saw a nearly empty bottle. She and Veronica both made a dive for it, but Stevie was faster. She sniffed. "Vodka?"
So that was what had been in Veronica's big bag. She should have checked it. If these girls had drunk a full bottle of this stuff among them, they were likely to be very drunk indeed. It was a miracle that none of them had been sick already.
"Right. I'm confiscating this. Alice, is there a kitchen other than the big one upstairs where you can sit and have coffee?"
Alice shook her head.
"We don't want to have coffee," Veronica said. The other two girls stood up and the three of them stood in front of her, their manner threatening. "Why don't you bugger off and leave us to have fun."
"Yeah," Alice piped up. She was still on the floor.
"Because this house has an alcohol licence. If you are found here, drunk, we may lose that licence. And," she added as one of them opened her mouth, "you could have burned the whole place down with those damned candles."
Veronica laughed. "Nah. That only happens in the movies."
"You know that for a fact do you? Or did you think you'd try it out in someone else's house?" Stevie pulled out her phone and called Tom, trying not to take her eyes off the girls the whole time.
"We're in the basement," she said. "They're drunk. Come down here. Don't tell Evelyn."
Alice sniffed. "Gran's going to kill me."
"You should have thought of that beforehand." Stevie held out a hand and hauled her to her feet. "Right, you lot. I'm getting some coffee down you and sobering you up."
"No you're not."
"Yes. I am. Now come with me."
The girls didn't move.
"Make me." Veronica smirked.
Stevie was now so angry that she was starting to shake with it. She stepped up so that she was face to face with the teenager. She growled, "Any more lip from you and I will take
you down to the police station to be sobered up in their cells."
"You don't know my real name," Veronica sneered back, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice now.
"I don't need to," said Stevie. "That's for the police to find out."
"You wouldn't dare."
Stevie brought her face closer and looked into her eyes. "Try me." They glared at each other for a moment, each trying to call the other's bluff.
Veronica's gaze faltered and Stevie knew she'd won.
One of the other girls said, "I feel sick."
Stevie grabbed a nearby potpourri bowl, tipped its contents on the floor and shoved it under the girl's face, just as the vomit arced out of her mouth. All the others took a step back. The smell, interlaced with that of the displaced potpourri filled the room. The girls were all starting to look pale.
Tom appeared and took in the scene. "Shit."
"Tom, get some coffee into them. And some toast if they can take it. You," she said to the girl who was retching over the now full bowl. "Come with me."
Stevie took her to the nearest bathroom and waited while she threw up some more. Afterward she helped her clean her face up, splashing it liberally with cold water, and took her, via the outdoor courtyard, to the kitchen.
Tom was giving the other girls coffee and water. Alice was huddled in a chair at the far end, sobbing. Veronica and the other girl were making cow eyes at him.
Stevie felt another wave of anger. She also felt curiously responsible for all of them. Especially Alice. She suddenly wondered if this was how Marsh felt when he'd found her stoned in Tom's room. No wonder he went mental.
"Feel better now?" she asked the girl who had been sick.
The girl nodded. She was staring blankly at the mug that Tom had placed in front of her.
There was a moment of silence as everyone avoided eye contact. Tom poured Stevie a coffee and placed it in front of her.
"Now then, Veronica, or whatever your name is," said Stevie. "Where were you planning to stay tonight?"
Veronica just sat there.
"Well?"
"We're taking the bus back to London," Veronica muttered.
"And your parents are okay with you wandering around London at three in the morning?"
