by James Anson
"Yes, with liqueurs, I think," said Robert. "I wonder who is paying for their meal."
"It won't be Venus," said Agnes. "Like my family, hers is poor but well-connected. Michael will probably stroll over and borrow the money from you."
"Er, Robert, I think this young lady wishes to speak to you ..."
Robert looked up - and up. A veritable Amazon gazed down at him, one of his books was clutched to her bosom.
"Mr March," she said shyly, "I hope you don't mind, I know you are a very private person - but Mike thought, just this once, you would not mind autographing my book ...?"
She gazed down at him in rapture. Robert thought it was quite delightful.
"Sit down, please," he said, melting. "I'll be happy to do so. Oh, it's my murder mystery. Did you enjoy it?"
"Oh yes," she said. "I couldn't find it in Galway, so as soon as I got to London I dashed round to Waterstone's and bought it. I'm afraid I've been reading it under the table. Mike said if I didn't stop, he would tell me whodunit ..."
"Tell him from me," said Robert, "that if he does I will personally come over and thump him! Now, what would you like?" He wrote quickly.
Venus looked at the inscription, blushed, then beamed at him. "You're very kind," she said.
"Now," said Agnes firmly, "I think we will take our coffee in the lounge all together. I know you and Michael have a lot to talk about, Robert, and Venus and I have news to catch up on, I'm sure."
Robert opened his mouth to dispute this. He received a quelling look. Michael, he knew, would not start an argument in a public place and it was that or accompany them to the coffee lounge. They capitulated and went.
"This is very pleasant," said Agnes, regally handing round coffee cups. "Now, Venus, is your dear mother with you? What brings you to London?"
"No," said Venus sadly, "she is in hospital with her leg in traction after her horse fell last week. Papa was very annoyed - he had to call off the hunt to fetch an ambulance. And she was so looking forward to coming to London."
Robert looked away hastily.
"I can imagine," said Agnes. "Poor Rosemary. And ...?"
"I'm getting married!" said Venus. "Didn't you know? Papa finally gave me permission to marry dear Egerton. We can't get married in Galway so I'm getting married from his Aunt Lizzie's house in Boscombe Square. She is very nice. But with Mama being in hospital and Con and Felix refusing to set foot in England, and Papa is much too busy, I had to come over on my own. I've left my big luggage at Paddington Station; my trunk should be at the house. Only, Egerton was supposed to meet me there and he didn't, and the house is all locked up. So I went down to the Palace hoping to see him, and met Mike. There was a dreadful man pestering me - Mike dealt with him." She gazed with shining eyes at her hero.
Robert sighed.
"Quite," said Agnes. "I'm sure we can work something out. Now, dear, where are you getting married?"
Robert's curiosity got the better of him. "And where was Egerton?" he asked Michael.
"Changing guard at Buckingham Palace," said Michael promptly. "I found her glued to the railings trying to attract his attention. As he was going purple under his busby, I removed her after giving him a nod. Then I took her for a sandwich and coffee."
"Didn't her mother warn her about men like you?" said Robert. "And what were you lurking round Buck House for? Oh, not that damned horse bookshop!"
"Of course," said Michael. "I'm now guarding her till Egerton comes off duty. I couldn't leave her alone in London - she has the brain of a peafowl. She has rattled on about her frock and the wedding for hours, pausing only to read your book. She told me you were her ideal man: handsome, gentle, sensitive, with spiritual inner depths. Couldn't disillusion her."
"How gratifying that someone has finally noticed," said Robert. "I think she is sweet. What's Egerton like then?"
"You would," said Michael. "He is a six-foot-four officer in the Grenadiers with a bad temper and no spiritual inner depths I've ever noticed. He's a distant cousin of mine."
"Who isn't," said Robert. "I was going to thump you - now I'm not sure you don't deserve a drink."
"I do," said Michael as they moved towards the bar. "And make it a double, will you? I'm getting short of money - that's the third meal she has packed away today."
"Well, she's a big girl," said Robert, collecting their drinks. "Does Egerton know what he is taking on?"
"Should do," said Michael. "He's known her since she was in pinafores - another relative. He has been trying to get Giles's consent for some time - kept saying he would rather see poor Venus dead at his feet than marrying a British Army officer. Well, he's the biggest oppressor of the peasantry in that part of the country! Wish Egerton would get here; I left a note we would be at Brown's. I've had to see off three would-be suitors already - it's tiring ..."
"So why are you in London?" asked Robert. "No horse show on, is there?"
"Mrs Paget started a great clear-out," said Michael. "She had Jos up in the attics getting down stuff I've never seen before - decided to escape before she could rope me in. Then Fred Stebbins said would I like to help him with forms at Olympia - he hates filling 'em in. So I got a ride on his truck down, sorted the paperwork out, then thought I'd get some books and call on you."
"To apologise, of course," said Robert. "No, I thought not. You know, this morning I said to myself, 'Oh shit, another boring day on the book.' It's turned out quite exciting."
"How's it coming along then?" asked Michael, enjoying his whiskey.
"So-so," said Robert wearily. "Spend all my days in the Brit. Mus. Reading Room. Cheerless place - smells of old ghosts, and the weirdest people pop in. Look, would you take Amos back with you, he's not happy here. I can't even take him for walks in Hyde Park; it's full of rabid Rottweilers."
"Sure," said Michael. "Sam's been grizzling about the place missing him. I'd like to take you back with me too, Rob! Come on - you're miserable as sin down here."
"No, I can't," said Robert. "Too busy with the book - blast it! Isn't Ag trying to attract our attention? Probably afraid I might slip off and stick her with the bill."
"Egerton is on the phone," said Agnes. "Venus has just gone to speak to him."
Venus appeared looking tearful. "He would like to speak to you," she said to Agnes with a sniff, then trailed after her back to the phone.
"Risky, calling a daughter Venus, I would have thought," said Robert. "She could have looked like the back of a bus. Classical scholar, her old man?"
Michael snorted. "Her grandfather had a passion for Greek sculpture; the castle grounds are full of naked stone ladies coyly clutching towels. They thought he might leave some extra cash their way - he didn't."
"You never took me there," said Robert. "I might have enjoyed it."
"You would not," said Michael. "Your patience was wearing thin enough - Giles Burke would have snapped it."
"Aah - another grand hard-riding mick like yourself then, is he?" Robert asked.
"No," said Michael, "more of an utter swine. I can't stand the man."
They could hear Agnes saying in the tones in which she browbeat her family: "Now look here, Egerton Coghill ..."
There was the sound of a phone being put down with force then she rejoined them, a tearful Venus in tow.
"It seems," said Agnes, "that Egerton is unable to contact his Aunt Lizzie and what is more has been seconded to shoot at Bisley over the next few days. Some fool has broken his arm and cannot compete. He has asked me to take care of Venus till we can hand her over to Aunt Lizzie. Now, we need somewhere to stay for the night. My last train has gone and Venus cannot stay in London alone. Where were you planning to sleep, Michael?"
Michael started, blushed, then muttered oh, he was going to bed down with the cows and Fred at Olympia.
"I'm sure you would all have been very happy," said Robert, his tone amused till he realised all eyes were on him.
"No!" he said firmly. "There is barely room in the flat for me!
Hasn't anyone got any money?
"Well," he continued, looking at their accumulated wealth, "we have just about enough for fish and chips four times, but that is it! Agnes, do you know a decent, reasonably priced hotel that will take you and Venus? I'll put the bill on my card."
"Jack will pay you back," said Agnes with relief.
"He will indeed," said Robert. Behind him, Michael cleared his throat. "Yes, you too," said Robert wearily. "To guard the ladies. I expect Olympia will be closed by now too. Wouldn't want to upset the cows. Now, Agnes, what shall it be?"
"The Shaftesbury, of course," said Agnes.
* * * * *
Venus looked round happily. "Oh, isn't it cosy," she said.
"I'd no idea places like this still existed," said Robert. "And if anyone says, 'Ooh, it's just like Dickens', I'll ..."
"Oh, but it is, isn't it," said an enraptured and totally unknown American lady to him.
"Just what I was hoping for. Are you up from the country too? Nearly everyone else here seems to be. I'm Mrs Bradshaw."
"Robert March," said Robert. He glanced round for his party; they appeared to be opening negotiations for sandwiches and coffee at reception. "Yes, I am," he replied. "Is this your first visit?"
By the time the others returned, coffee and sandwiches on the way, Robert had got round to viewing Mrs Bradshaw's family photographs of the farm back in Iowa, her grandchildren, etc., etc.
"The Shaftesbury - still an oasis of peace and stability in this dreadful city," said Agnes. She then briskly took over Mrs Bradshaw and began to arrange a more interesting itinerary for her. Robert shook his head and looked for Michael, whom he found ordering drinks for everyone at the bar.
"Don't go raving mad," said Robert. "I intend to extract every penny of this later. This place is a time warp. I've never heard of it."
"The County stay here when they come up to London," said Michael. "People tell their grandchildren about it. Agnes is going to ring Giles after we have eaten - in case he is worried about Venus."
"Is he likely to be?" said Robert.
"Not at all," said Michael. "But her mother could be. I'll pay you back as soon as my army pension cheque arrives - it's due next week."
"You will have spent it before you get it," said Robert. "As usual."
"Not to worry," said Michael. "Something will turn up."
"You," said Robert, shaking his head, "are a great trial to me, Michael."
"Ah, but you couldn't do without me," said Michael confidently.
"Ah, but I'm trying," said Robert. "I see you've ordered for me and Mrs Bradshaw."
"I thought Eugenie would like to try a port and lemon," said Michael.
"Eugenie!" said Robert. "You've only known her ten minutes!"
They returned to the lounge just in time to hear Agnes concluding some very spirited remarks to the father of the bride. She sighed with satisfaction as she replaced the phone.
"How could you dare to speak to Papa like that?' gasped Venus, looking at her in awe.
"I've known Giles Burke since he was a very nasty little boy in short trousers," said Agnes. "He needs squashing badly."
"Atta girl!" said Michael, waving her arm aloft.
"Drinking, Michael?" she remarked. "Come on, Robert, have some of these excellent sandwiches."
As he was paying for them Robert did, refusing another drink on the grounds that: "I have to get back to Bloomsbury and my cat," he explained. "It's getting late."
"Go and get him," said Michael expansively. "He will love it here - we can have a party. You just have to get his basket. Come on, Robert, do you good, too!"
Robert, gazing into bright blue eyes, felt himself weaken, against his better judgement. He was about to twitter on about serious work to do when: "I'd love to meet your cat, Mr March," said Venus. "Papa doesn't like cats. He drowns kittens." Her eyes brimmed.
"Does he?" said Robert. "I can see why you kept me away from Giles," he said to Michael.
Oddly enough, after another gin and tonic, this seemed a rather sensible idea - the hotel saying of course they would welcome a well-behaved, pleasant cat; they even had a small secluded garden at the back he might care to wander in.
Robert then found himself careering to and fro across London by taxi to collect Amos who, once out of the flat, brightened considerably; even more so when he was presented with a plate of delicious fish scraps from the kitchen on his arrival at the hotel.
The party had started by then, other guests mostly with county accents and well-weathered faces were joining in and, Robert noted thankfully, were buying their own drinks. Michael was playing the piano badly while Venus sang Bring Me A Shawl From Galway very nicely.
Robert settled on a chintz-covered sofa, joined presently by Amos washing his whiskers in a satisfied manner. As Robert had spotted some smoked salmon skin among the scraps, he was not surprised and hoped this would not give Amos a taste for expensive luxuries. In a corner Agnes was demonstrating Irish step dancing, joined presently by her brother as an exuberant partner.
Robert was about to suggest that they kept the noise down, when a full glass was placed in his hand.
"Have this one on me, Mr March," said a gentleman from Yorkshire.
"Thank you," said Robert.
"That's a fine cat you have there," said the gentleman, chucking Amos under the chin. "Enjoys a party, does he?"
"Yes, he does," said Robert. "He's missed them, staying here."
"They don't have proper parties here," said Joe. "No idea how to enjoy themselves properly. In Bradford now ..."
Robert, watching the goings-on, thought they were not doing too badly down here.
Any moment now, he thought, some idiot will say, 'Let's all have a singsong' and we'll all be out in the street. Can see the headlines: Famous (well, fairly well-known) writer, two titled ladies, textile manufacturer from Bradford, innocent American tourist, drunken Irish soldier and sundry others evicted from respectable hotel ... for causing a disturbance at 1 a.m. 'Charges will follow,' said police. Writer described as drunk in charge of pedigree Persian cat.
"Let's have a singsong," said a happy voice.
Much, much later Venus looked at Michael, her eyes shining with happiness. "I don't care that Papa says you are a complete bastard, Mike," she said. "I think you are lovely."
She then flung her arms round his neck and collapsed on his shoulder. Robert was delighted to see him stagger slightly.
"Yes," said Agnes. "It's time to leave, Venus dear."
With an expertise honed on hauling paralytic brothers and occasionally her spouse out of trouble, she guided Venus out of the room. Reluctantly the party began to break up.
Robert said good night - or more correctly good morning - to his now firm friend from Bradford, then detached Michael from a sideboard to which he appeared to be glued chuckling softly to himself, draped Amos over his shoulder like a wet sack and hauled them all up the stairs.
He had long given up worrying about the bill, or the hotel's reaction to their festivities; the fact they had laid on more sandwiches and coffee at an unearthly hour - and had that little waitress from Rochdale really demonstrated a clog dance? - perhaps that had been a good sign.
To his relief Michael, once in their room, had collapsed on one of the beds and gone out like a light. Robert removed his boots and tie, and then just managed to do the same for himself.
Chapter Seventeen
He had only been asleep a moment, it seemed, when he was awakened by the sound of a coffee cup reverberating in its saucer like a Spanish dancer. Michael was holding it out to him with a shaking hand.
"Tell me," he asked, "did I really hear someone singing When Irish Eyes Are Smiling last night with a strong Yorkshire accent?"
"Yes," said Robert weakly. "That was Joe. He's in textiles - nice fella. Can you remember singing that song about the starving match seller Poor Old Dan From Connemara?"
"I must have been gone," said Michael. "Did it go down well?"<
br />
"You had Venus and half the room in tears," said Robert. "The rest were singing along in the chorus. You were about to embark on the Shan Van Vocht when I persuaded you otherwise."
"Thank God," said Michael. He dropped an alka seltzer in a glass and winced as it fizzed.
"Where did you get that?" asked Robert. "Make one for me, will you? I think I'm dying so just go away and let me get on with it peacefully."
"You can't!" said Michael. "There will be another day to pay on the room and the taxi will be here at twelve to take us all to Boscombe Square."
Robert shot upwards then grabbed his head. "I am not," he said, when he was able, "putting the rental of a house in Boscombe Square on my card - it won't stand it!"
"Of course you're not," said Michael. "It's Aunt Lizzie's house. We are all going there to get ready for the wedding."
Robert gave up trying to remember what wedding. "We?" he inquired carefully.
"That's we as in ...?"
"Agnes, Venus; Miranda, Bessie when they get up here; Jack if they can drag him away," said Michael. "Not me. I'm heading home with Amos before Ag can rope me in for anything. If I were you, I'd ..."
"Don't tell me any more!" said Robert. "Just go away and I'll get dressed."
He forced down a cup of coffee, signed the bill averting his eyes from the total which he couldn't see anyway. Perfect strangers came up and said what a lovely party it had been, the hotel said do come again, to his surprise, and a gentleman from Bradford gave him his card -and an invite to visit. Then they all piled into a taxi. Robert began to feel extremely unwell, and dimly heard Agnes saying, after she had extracted the money for the fare from his wallet, "No, Michael, he needs to lie down quietly."
Robert found himself making a sudden detour to a providential, if unknown, bathroom which appeared before him. He next surfaced, sans nausea and headache and feeling vaguely hungry, on a large Victorian sofa in an over-decorated room. There was a heavy weight on his feet - it was Amos, purring happily. The door opened and Agnes entered quietly.
"Oh, good," she said, "awake at last. And you look much better!"
"In my books," said Robert, "at this point the hero says, 'Where am I?' but I presume this is Boscombe Square. Where is Aunt Lizzie?"
