Chapter 31
“Gervaise? Did you hear what I said?” Ralph buzzed in his ear like an annoying fly.
Gervaise looked up from the burr walnut sewing box he was examining. “You said Hollingsford seemed interested,” he replied blandly. He wished Ralph had not insisted on accompanying him on his errand to Bond Street.
He had almost forgotten that after more than two hours straight, his old schoolfriend’s company began to pall. They had just spent four hours together touring the many gentleman’s clubs of their vast acquaintances. Gervaise had twice suggested splitting up but Ralph would not hear of it.
“He and Samuels gave no assurance they would attend on the opening night,” Ralph fretted, looking anguished. “And I particularly wanted to get some assurances today from those who favor deep play. Should we have pressed them harder, do you suppose? Given them more inducement to attend?”
“Certainly not!” Gervaise answered, shutting the glass lid of the case with a click.
“Do you have one lined with silk?” he asked the assistant before turning back to his friend.
“If anything, you should have politely tried to put them off, as I did Palmer. Told them it was unlikely they would get into our establishment in the opening week. Played up its exclusivity. Palmer was champing at the bit by the end of my spiel.”
“Oh, so that’s what you were doing!” Ralph exclaimed, his pained expression clearing.
He clapped Gervaise on the back. “I wronged you, old chap. For a minute you had me worried you had lost interest in our project altogether. Ha-ha.” His laugh was unconvincing.
Gervaise wondered if that was why Ralph had hovered next to him all morning, anxious and clinging.
Had he suspected Gervaise would shirk his duties?
It was rather insulting when you came to think of it.
He did not bother to answer, for the assistant had reappeared with another sewing case, tiered this time and built on altogether grander lines.
“Ah, this is more the type of thing I had in mind,” he murmured, examining the many compartments punctuated with mother-of-pearl buttons.
A French gilded pincushion sat in the center in the shape of a rosy red apple.
“Yes, this is the one,” he decided, handing over his card. “Have it sent to this address.”
“Present for your mother?” Ralph enquired. “It’s a handsome piece.”
“It’s for Caroline.”
“Ah,” Ralph said, adopting an expression that said I am the soul of discretion.
Gervaise felt even more irritated if that was even possible.
A change of subject was in order. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal for all female bar staff,” he said, turning away from the counter.
Ralph trailed along behind him as they walked out into the street.
“Oh, yes?”
“I think on the whole, it is a good idea and Ewell agrees. My only concern would be their safe journey home after working such late hours.” Ralph blinked, such a thing clearly never having occurred to him. “What do you think to turning the dormitory room over for their use?”
“Offering them bed and board?” Ralph said with surprise.
When Gervaise gazed steadily back at him, he cleared his throat.
“Ah… Well, yes, we could certainly offer such a provision, why not?” He chewed the side of his mouth.
“Might the proximity not impinge on your own space?” He hesitated, “Or…is your arrangement there coming to an end?”
Gervaise leveled a look upon him which made Ralph shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
Did he imagine the sewing box was a farewell gift for his mistress?
“No,” he answered coolly. He had no intention of discussing his private situation with Ralph.
“And in any case, a corridor separates the two areas, providing ample privacy.”
“Of course, of course,” Ralph blustered. “Ahem! In any case, how many beds do you suppose could be accommodated in there?”
“Caroline says twelve. How many barmaids did you envision us employing?”
“As many perhaps as ten,” Ralph ventured enthusiastically. “There are only a few booths in the saloon to encourage standing space only. That way we can pack more in, and it is a very long bar as you know. We should be serving a lot of drinks.”
Gervaise nodded. “And the small bar in the billiard room and the one upstairs would be staffed by men.”
“Agreed,” Ralph said promptly.
“We should probably set Effie to gathering some likely candidates.”
“Ah yes, none so capable as Effie.”
“She could interview them too, after all, she knows more about bar work than the two of us put together.”
Ralph cleared his throat. “Good point,” he agreed. “Let’s do that. Shall we head back to The Citadel and let Effie know the plan?”
“Let’s,” Gervaise agreed. “We’ll tell her she can take up her duties as bar manageress immediately.”
At this point they were hailed by a mutual friend, Charles Horsham, who had heard about their new enterprise. Gervaise allowed Ralph to talk at length about The Citadel but when he started to talk of the club upstairs, he interrupted.
“Come along to the grand opening by all means, Charles,” Gervaise drawled. “But it’s doubtful there will be room at one of the gaming tables upstairs. The list for admittance there is small and very select.”
Horsham’s interest was piqued. He asked to be added to the reserve list at least. Gervaise said he would see what he could do. “You see how it is done?” he asked Ralph as they sauntered away.
His friend looked dazed. “Er, yes. Not really sure I could deliver it in the same grand manner, truth be told.”
“Just tell them I hold the list.”
“Ah yes,” Ralph brightened. “I could do that alright!”