‘No, we can’t do that,’ said Meg. ‘We’ll just make sure they don’t work after this visit.’ She paused. Who could answer this imperious demand? Sally, the most junior member of the team, was away doing something else. Meg sighed. ‘I’ll go.’
‘Your legs are younger than mine,’ said Susan, inarguably.
Meg made a face at her and left the room at a lick.
‘Oh, excellent service!’ said Basil Knott-Dean when she arrived. ‘Is it always so efficient? Often one waits hours for anyone to come.’
‘How can I help you?’ asked Meg, trying not to audibly pant.
‘A tray of drinks? Whisky, water, some little eats for later?’
Meg wanted to tell this demanding guest that he’d had plenty to drink and that dinner would be more than adequate, he wouldn’t need ‘little eats for later’, but she did want to make the guests happy. She nodded and smiled and was about to leave when he stopped her. ‘Yes?’
‘You can charge extra for meals served in the rooms, you know.’
Meg gave him a genuine smile this time and left the room.
Dinner had gone relatively smoothly, pronounced by everyone to have been delicious, except by Lady Lennox-Stanley who complained it was ‘rather filling’.
Meg was making quiches for the picnic baskets when Justin came in, as if he owned the place, Meg thought. Her heart gave a little leap of excitement to see him before she remembered her conversation with Laura and it subsided a little. She cleared her throat.
‘Hello!’ he said. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Rolling out pastry,’ she said. ‘It’s a technique often seen in kitchens.’
Justin tutted and she looked away. She didn’t want to meet his eyes and was aware this probably made her look grumpy.
‘I came to see if you needed anything,’ said Justin. ‘More linen perhaps?’
‘You’re a saviour,’ said Susan, bustling in with a tray full of dirty coffee cups. ‘The hotel is full and we’ve used every sheet we have. If I know anything, Lady Fussy-Knickers will want clean linen tomorrow and we haven’t got any. Cup of tea?’
Susan was looking at Justin as if his second name was Lancelot. For some reason this made Meg genuinely grumpy instead of just looking that way.
‘Yes, please,’ said Justin.
Susan poured his tea and went to collect more dirty dishes.
‘Now, Meg, what’s rattled your cage?’
Meg had a sudden urge to tell him all her problems. She sighed. ‘Just tired. Lady Lennox-Stanley brought unexpected guests, and out of the blue wants me to make picnics to take to the races. There’s catering laid on there, of course, but if Lady Fussy-Knickers wants picnics, picnics is what she gets.’ She managed a smile.
‘So, what are you going to put the picnics in?’ asked Justin. ‘Have you a supply of wicker baskets?’
‘No,’ said Meg. ‘Currently I’m planning to wrap them in large red and white spotted napkins and tie them on to sticks. Who says you don’t learn anything from pantomimes?’
He laughed. ‘Poor Meggy! And I’m not surprised you’re tired. I can’t lend you picnic hampers, but the hotel does have a supply of white cardboard boxesused for big cakes. I reckon they’d be perfect. I’ll get them to you early tomorrow.’
This was the ideal solution. ‘Well, thank you, Lancelot,’ she said, hiding her gratitude under sarcasm.
‘What’s that you called me?’
Meg shrugged, feeling more cheerful. ‘Nothing.’
He gave her a look that was decidedly unnerving. It was one thing teasing him as if he was a lion in a cage, but suddenly the lion was the other side of the bars. Her heart beat faster. If only he wasn’t with Laura, she may well have looked at him back, and taken the risk that he might kiss her. But she couldn’t.
She was very glad that Susan returned at that moment, breaking the tension.
A little later, when he’d gone, Susan said, ‘Justin likes to keep an eye on things, doesn’t he?’
