Chapter Five
There was, indeed, something of a throng in the library, which had clearly been designed not just as a place to hold a very pleasing selection of books from JB’s extensive collection, but as a comfortable, informal gathering place for companionship and conversation.
The Hungarian looked a little the worse for wear and JB asked after his health, but the man scuttled off without answering, leaving Lady Hardcastle to explain in her customary cheerily blithe manner that the poor fellow had taken a tumble on the stairs and we’d been helping to straighten him out.
This much was, at least, partially true – he had taken a tumble and we had most emphatically ‘straightened him out’ – but obviously she kept things suitably vague and her explanation contained nothing that would see us fall foul of the Official Secrets Act.
JB was clearly enchanted by Lady Hardcastle – that happened a lot, to be honest – and he invited us to dine with him ‘and a few friends’. We’d been part of that ever-widening circle of friends ever since.
So wide was that circle by now that we’d never met any of that weekend’s guests before, and if we were to solve the Mystery of the Missing Bijouterie then we would have to get to know them all a lot better.
In that room, at that time, though, we were going to struggle.
I could see no sign of Clarice or Everett, but as far as I could make out, everyone else was present.
Or seemed to be, at least; it was difficult to be certain.
Dotty and Patience were standing by a window, close to one of the radiators, but the others were in a tight little group, talking in low tones, and I couldn’t quickly see who was there.
This was not going to be like mingling at a delightful soirée where guests would flit from group to group like happy bumblebees moving between enticing blooms. If we were going to insinuate ourselves into either of the groups it would be more akin to a military invasion.
We would need to establish a forward position and secure our supply lines before attempting any serious incursion.
Instead, I poured us each a cup of tea from the large pot on one of the tables and we stood together, sipping and earwigging.
‘. . . and I’d put good money on it being your idiot husband,’ said Patience.
‘I’d not take the bet, dear,’ said Dotty. ‘It’s exactly the sort of thing he’d find funny.’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean he’s playing a joke, I mean he’s going to sell them to fund his extravagant lifestyle.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I can’t believe you don’t know exactly what I mean. That house you live in, those clothes you wear, those restaurants you eat in. You’re not telling me he can afford all that on his share of the partnership profits at his little solicitors’ firm.’
‘Well I never. I—’
I’m embarrassed to have to confess that despite my years of experience as a Master Earwigger, a careless lapse of attention led to Dotty noticing that I was looking straight at her and listening intently.
She turned slightly away from me and lowered her voice as she continued to argue with her friend.
With a sigh I motioned to Lady Hardcastle that we should move over to the other huddle.
It quickly became apparent that they were crowded tightly around Bridgewater, who was telling one of his jokes – a long, drawn-out yarn I’d heard many times before but which had captivated his small audience.
I noticed Lily was among the listeners and was relieved to remember that the story was not a filthy one.
I had no idea why I should feel protective of her – I was sure she could look after herself and probably had a repertoire of dirty jokes of her own.
Perhaps it was that she was the newcomer to the group and I didn’t want her to think badly of the rest of us.
The joke’s punch line eventually arrived and was met with genuine laughter.
Whatever I might have thought of Bridgewater’s addiction to the facetious, he actually did have a gift for joke-telling.
If he ever tired of his legal practice I felt sure he could make a passable living in the music halls, perhaps supplementing his income with some after-dinner speaking.
Lily saw us standing in the middle of the room and peeled herself away to join us.
‘Hello, again,’ she said. ‘I really must apologize to you both. When JB ran through the guest list he simply said you were Emily and Florence. I had no idea until just now you were the famous Lady Hardcastle and Miss Armstrong. How very exciting.’
Lady Hardcastle’s eyebrows raised comically. ‘Gracious. Famous? Us?’
Lily smiled. ‘Of course. We see your names in the newspapers all the time. That murder at the theatre a couple of years ago was all my friends and I were talking about for weeks.’
‘I’m afraid I can think of nothing more to say than my previous “gracious”. We’re pals with a local journalist and we feed her titbits when we’re able, but one never imagines the stories being of more than mere local interest.’
Lily nodded. ‘Well, your pal’s local stories have been picked up by newspapers around the country.’
‘She’ll be delighted. Dinah Caudle is her name.’
‘How wonderful. But her name never appears on the stories. They’re always presented as though they’re written by one of the paper’s own reporters.’
‘Oh,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘That’s a shame. Still, I’m sure her reputation is growing within the newspaper world, if not with the public.’
Lily gave a little shrug. ‘That might be the case if she’d had the good sense to be born a man, but . . .’
‘Well, quite,’ said Lady Hardcastle with a shrug of her own. ‘We know from a friend of ours that it’s the same in the photographic world. Do you know of Helen Titmus?’
‘I’m afraid not, no. I’m just getting started – I’ve yet to meet any of the big names.’
‘She’s certain to be a big name one day. If you get the chance to visit Brighton you must drop in and see her. Tell her we sent you.’
‘I certainly shall. Thank you.’
‘I’m sure you’ll both have lots to talk about. It’s certainly a treat for me to meet a fellow photographer, I must say. I only dabble, but it’s such fun. Florence does, too.’
I nodded. ‘My American friend sent me one of the new Vest Pocket Kodak cameras. I take it everywhere now.’
Lily smiled her dazzling smile. ‘Snap! Oh, I say. Snap. Clever me. I usually use something altogether more bulky. It gives fine results, but for this weekend I wanted something I could carry in my handbag.’
‘What do you usually use?’ asked Lady Hardcastle.
‘A Graflex Speed Graphic – also American, as it happens. With the f/2.9 lens. It’s a marvellous thing but the Vest Pocket is so much more immediate. I’ll come back in a few weeks with a larger-format camera but for this weekend’s recce it’ll be snaps with the little chap.’
‘I’ll be pestering you for tips,’ I said, and then nodded towards Lady Hardcastle. ‘I’m getting excellent tuition in the general principles, but we’re both struggling with some of the quirks and peculiarities of the Kodak. It would be wonderful to have some advice from a professional.’
‘I’ll be happy to help in whatever way I can.’
By now, George Wilson had also torn himself away from JB and Bridgewater.
He came over to join us. ‘Hello, ladies.’
We offered a fusillade of overlapping greetings.
He grinned. ‘I’m feeling a little cooped up in here so I’m going out for a walk round the island.’ He indicated his former conversational companions. ‘I invited those two but I couldn’t get them interested.’
‘I can’t say I blame them,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘The weather seems to be closing in.’
‘Hence my eagerness to get out. I want to clear the cobwebs before we’re all confined to barracks.’
Lily and I also indicated our reluctance to venture out into the wind so, with a smile, Wilson went off alone to fetch his coat and, I hoped, a pair of outdoor boots. The ones he was wearing looked very natty, but I didn’t think they’d survive a walk round the island.
‘You do know that JB is trying to play matchmaker, don’t you, dear?’ said Lady Hardcastle when Wilson had gone.
Lily frowned. ‘I do. He was very pleased with himself. Does George know?’
‘JB mentioned it to him, yes.’
Lily’s frown softened to a smile. ‘He’s a cheeky one, that JB. But I’ll make my own matches, thank you very much.’
‘Quite right, too. One thinks of JB as a hard-hearted businessman, but he has quite a romantic streak. I think he means well but I thought you ought to be forewarned.’
‘Wilson’s not really my type, though, I’m afraid,’ said Lily. ‘And he doesn’t seem all that interested in me, anyway. I think we’ll be fine.’
Dotty and Patience had noticed Wilson’s departure and came over to us.
‘Is he going out for a walk?’ asked Dotty.
‘Apparently so,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘He invited JB and Granville but they turned him down.’
‘He didn’t bally well invite us,’ said Patience. ‘I could do with a walk before it gets too unpleasant out there. Anyone coming?’
Once again, Lady Hardcastle, Lily and I politely declined.
Patience tutted. ‘What about you, Dots? Fancy a walk before tea?’
‘Well, it does look a bit grim out,’ said Dotty. ‘Perhaps—’
‘Nonsense. A bracing stroll round the island will do us a world of good.’
Dotty really didn’t look convinced but reluctantly followed her friend to gather their coats and outdoor shoes, their earlier argument apparently forgotten.
JB was still with Bridgewater, who had begun another joke.
‘Shall we go back to the sitting room?’ asked Lady Hardcastle. ‘We can have a natter and leave those two in peace.’
Out in the corridor we could hear Wilson’s cheery voice echoing round the hall as he asked the Crawfords if they wouldn’t mind him going out through the kitchen.
‘It’ll save me walking all the way round from the front door,’ he said.
Peggy’s reply was indistinct but I presumed she’d agreed because Wilson’s voice faded as he went further into the kitchen.
Moments later, we heard a ‘Wait for us’ from Dotty as they raced to catch him up.