Once in the kitchen, Meg could see that Vanessa was genuinely flustered, and poured her a teacup full of sherry.
‘I’d better not drink all of this,’ said Vanessa, looking at what Meg had just handed to her.
‘It’s a very dainty cup,’ said Meg. ‘It doesn’t hold much. Now what’s really the matter?’
Vanessa took a desperate sip from the teacup. ‘I haven’t told you everything. Basil is close friends with Russell Rook and so he has invited him to come too! I know you’ve converted at least three single rooms into bathrooms, so where on earth are you going to put everybody?’
Meg and Susan exchanged glances. The situation was a little more serious that it had at first seemed. ‘Well, you’re not a problem, Nessa,’ said Meg. ‘You can share my little flat.’
‘That sounds fun!’ Vanessa was definitely calmer now.
‘And Russell and Basil are friends?’ asked Meg, to make sure.
‘So we put them in a twin?’ suggested Susan.
Vanessa’s eyes widened in shock at the thought. ‘Definitely not.’
‘OK,’ said Meg. ‘We’ll put Russell in your single as he’s almost a friend now, and then find somewhere for this Basil person.’
‘He’s called Basil Knott-Dean. Going on how Mummy was treating him, he may be quite important,’ said Vanessa.
‘You leave it all to me,’ said Susan calmly. ‘Meg? Going by the sounds coming from the hall, you’re needed there.’
The hall was full of people. Lady Lennox-Stanley was in the middle, surrounded by luggage and two large gentlemen, one of whom was Russell Rook.
‘Good afternoon, everyone,’ said Meg, trying to be like her mother, who would have been gracious and helpful but not obsequious. ‘Welcome to Nightingale Woods. I do hope you all had good journeys?’
‘Meg, darling,’ said Russell, ‘I’ve brought my old chum with me. He’s heard good things about your hotel and was mad to come.’
‘Basil Knott-Dean,’ said Russell’s chum, putting his hand into Meg’s. He was tall and well spoken and seemed to have perfect manners. ‘I’m that annoying thing, a last-minute guest on what’s probably a busy night. Can you help? I can always go away again if you haven’t got room.’
‘How do you do?’ said Meg, shaking his hand. ‘And of course we can accommodate you.’ Meg wasn’t at all certain of this but she knew the gods of hotel-keeping would strike her down if she sent away a potential guest. ‘Can I suggest everyone goes into thedrawing room and has a drink? Lady Lennox-Stanley? We can get your cases into your room and find somewhere comfortable for Mr Knott-Dean.’
‘I can pour drinks,’ said Russell, earning Meg’s eternal gratitude. ‘Amanda,’ he said to Lady Lennox-Stanley, ‘let me mix you a gin and ver. I have the knack.’
Lady Lennox-Stanley was two drinks down when Meg showed her and Vanessa to her room. Sadly, alcohol did not seem to have softened Lady Fussy-Knickers very much and it was Vanessa who provided the enthusiasm.
‘Oh, Mummy!’ she said delightedly. ‘Isn’t it all smart now? And look! Your own private bathroom through this door. This is so pretty. And so much more like a proper home than that other hotel on the hill. Don’t you think so, Mummy?’
‘As everyone else seems very happy with their rooms I suppose I must be too.’ She gave one of her freezing smiles. ‘Did Vanessa order picnics for tomorrow? There will be lunch laid on at the racecourse, but some people – my friends in particular – prefer a picnic.’
Vanessa looked at Meg in total horror. She’d obviously never heard of this requirement before either.
‘If you’re quite happy in your room, Lady Lennox-Stanley,’ said Meg smoothly, ‘Vanessa and I can just check on the details.’
Vanessa started apologising the moment they were out of the room. ‘Meg, I had no idea she’d want picnics! I don’t think she’s ever wanted them before.’
‘It’s fine, Nessa,’ said Meg, who was not nearly as calm as she was pretending. ‘We can sort it out. We have time. Although it will have to be after dinner now.’
As they entered the kitchen a strange sound like a rusty door hinge emerged from the corner of the room.
‘What’s that noise?’ asked Meg, looking at Susan.
Susan sucked her teeth. ‘Look up there,’ she said, pointing to the bell indicator box. One of the little flags was flapping.
‘Oh my goodness,’ said Vanessa. ‘Don’t let my mother see that – she’ll never stop demanding things!’
‘We could pretend it doesn’t work,’ said Susan. ‘No one expects things like that to work any more, do they?’
