Chapter Eleven #2
“I’ve had the food here before,” Vesper offered, and Maggie glanced at her, slightly startled, as if having forgotten that she existed. “It’s very nice—everyone in the kitchen does a lovely job.”
“Thank you.” Maggie did not bloom beneath this praise the way she had when Ashbridge spoke, and Vesper nearly frowned.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to work—she was meant to be the charming one, and he was meant to be the stern government official whose grim countenance was only occasionally lightened by his unwilling amusement at her cheeky irrepressible charm.
“If you’ve worked here awhile, the, er, unfortunate incident a couple of weeks ago must have come as quite a shock.” Ashbridge’s voice was a soothing, empathetic murmur.
Maggie sighed, leaning forward with her elbows braced on the bar. Ashbridge inclined his head toward her. Vesper sipped moodily at her champagne.
“Nothing like that’s ever happened here before.” Maggie’s voice was low and worried. “And Gus—one of the other bartenders—lost his place over it, but I don’t… well, I don’t think it’s right.” She looked at Vesper, suddenly wary, and Vesper offered her a reassuring smile.
“I don’t, either,” she told her. “And the whole thing is making me a bit nervous, honestly—we had something similar happen at Holloway’s, and I can’t imagine your bartender—Gus, was it?—could have been responsible for that.”
Maggie relaxed a bit at these words. “There you go! I knew it couldn’t have been him—but the Montgomerys were awfully upset about it, and didn’t see how it could have been anyone else, so…” She gave a helpless shrug.
“Did they think he did something to the potion?” Ashbridge allowed a note of confusion to creep into his voice. “I hope they don’t think he intentionally tried to hurt anyone.”
“No, nothing like that,” Maggie said. “He’s been at the bar for a decade, everyone knows Gus—he wouldn’t hurt a fly.
But they think he was distracted—there was this handsome chap that evening, you see, and…
well, Gus has an eye for handsome chaps.
They think he must’ve accidentally given the fellow a double batch or something, because he wasn’t paying attention—they think he was too busy flirting.
But I know Gus,” she continued, her voice suddenly vehement.
“He might flirt with a handsome lad or pretty girl he sees, but he’d never make a mistake like that—he always paid such careful attention to what he was doing.
He told me that he didn’t even start talking to the fellow until after he’d already added the syrup, anyway—the chap was with a large group, and came over to take the final drink from Gus, so Gus wasn’t even mixing the potion at that point. It doesn’t make sense.”
Down at the opposite end of the bar, someone hailed Maggie, and she glanced over and raised a finger, asking for a second more. She turned back to Ashbridge and Vesper. “I want whoever did this to be caught—I just really don’t think it’s Gus. I’m not trying to make trouble, but—”
“We know you aren’t,” Vesper assured her, and smiled at her again. Maggie relaxed a bit at the sight, though Vesper reflected, a bit grumpily, that she still didn’t think her smile had been as effective as Ashbridge’s had been. This was an astonishing development that she didn’t care for one bit.
“I don’t blame you for being upset,” Ashbridge agreed now, before adding, “and I hope Gus finds another place soon.”
“That’s just it, though,” Maggie said, twisting a stopper into the top of the champagne bottle. “It’s almost impossible to be hired by any of the clubs if you’ve previously worked for another. He’ll have to go work for the mundane clubs—or leave London entirely.”
With a grim shake of the head, she was off to make a round of champagne cocktails for the gaggle of ladies at the opposite end of the bar; Vesper sipped at her champagne, avoiding Ashbridge’s gaze as he turned in his seat to face her fully.
“Why,” he asked, after a few seconds in which he looked at Vesper and she looked just past his shoulder, “is it impossible for this Gus to be hired by any of the other clubs?”
She sighed. “It’s not impossible. Just… unlikely.
” Ashbridge looked unimpressed by this non-explanation, so she continued, “The families are very protective of their secrets, and so once someone has worked at one of the magical clubs, they find it very difficult to be hired by any of the others. It’s why most of the staff at the clubs have been there for years. ”
“And that doesn’t strike you as a bit… exploitative?”
“I hardly think—”
“You’ve made it so that if someone leaves their job, they know they’ll have a hard time finding another one. Meaning there’s little incentive to offer them good pay, or to treat them well, because you hold all the power.”
This was taking things too far. “I’ll have you know that we give eight percent pay rises every year as a matter of course, as well as additional bonuses for good work.”
“Then your employees are fortunate. I suppose it never occurred to you that some of the other families might not be doing the same?”