‘Tony,’ she said, beaming at her old colleague from theCourier. ‘You know, I’ve never been so pleased to see you.’
He took the cigarette from his mouth and grinned at them. ‘Looks like it’s my lucky day. Not one but two Miss Bancrofts for me to squire around.’
‘I don’t need any of your squiring, thank you,’ Bobby told him. ‘My young man’s here somewhere if I need an escort.’
‘Caught yourself a man at last, did you? What is he, a farmer?’
‘Never you mind. Anyhow, I’m here for work, not pleasure.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘You know, like you’re supposed to be?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve done my work. Finished ages ago, if you must know.’
‘You can’t have. The show only started an hour and a half ago.’
‘So? All Don really wants is a list of who was here. No one cares about these things except the farmers who’re at them. All you need to do is put their names in the paper so they all buy a copy, add a couple of sentences about shorthorns or longwools or whatever the breeds are called, and you can spend the rest of the afternoon in the beer tent. Why do you think I volunteered to traipse all the way out here on a Sunday? Time and a half and a full day’s pay for half an hour’s work.’
‘I see you’re still as lazy as ever,’ she said with a dry smile.
He blew a column of blue smoke from his cigarette. ‘I prefer to think of myself as efficient.’
She sniffed the air. ‘What on earth are you smoking, Tony?’
He took out the pungent cigarette and looked at it. ‘Some Egyptian brand. All I could get. There’s not a Capstan to be seen in the shops with this damn fag shortage. Still, you get used to them after a bit.’
‘Didn’t Don say you were to get names and quotes from all the prizewinning breeders in the sale ring?’ she asked, thinking of her note from Reg.
‘He said. Thing is, theCourier’s not out while Thursday, is it? I can copy the winning breeders’ names from one of the dailies. That lass from theMercurywill have them all typed out for me in tomorrow’s edition.’
Bobby shook her head, half irritated with Tony on Don’s behalf and half impressed at the sheer commitment of the man when it came to shirking work. ‘You know, Tony, if you put nearly as much effort into your writing as you do into trying to avoid work, you’d be editor ofThe Timesby now.’
‘Too good for ’em, love.’
Bobby rolled her eyes at Lilian. ‘You remember Tony Scott, of course.’
‘He hasn’t changed a bit,’ she said, smiling at Tony.
Tony flashed her what he probably believed to be a charming smile in return before turning his attention back to Bobby.
‘I hope you’re not going to be telling tales about my little arsenal of tricks to Don, Bob,’ he said, his Egyptian cigarette wobbling at the corner of his mouth while he spoke. ‘You don’t need to be editor’s pet any more now he’s not paying you.’ He glanced at Lilian. ‘You know, Lil, it was me that gave your sister her start in journalism.’
‘You mean you let me write your pieces for you while you took your girl to the pictures on the newspaper’s time,’ Bobby said, laughing.
‘Got you where you are today, didn’t it?’
‘I like to think my skill as a writer got me where I am today, but you can have a small share of the credit.’
‘Well, are you going to tell tales on me to our mutual friend back in Bradford?’
‘No, Tony. For old time’s sake, I’ll cover for you,’ Bobby said with a resigned sigh. ‘After all, why change the habit of a lifetime?’
He grinned. ‘You’re a trump, Bobby. I’ve always said so.’
Bobby glanced around the tent. Tony wasn’t an ideal chaperone for young women, especially in his cups – he wasn’t drunk yet but he wasn’t exactly sober either, and she knew he had a soft spot for Lilian. Then again, he was an improvement on the other men in the tent: more flirtatious than lascivious, plus he was an old friend. At least, Bobby corrected herself, he was sort of an old friend, insofar as she couldn’t help liking the man despite his many flaws. Definitely the lesser of two evils – Lilian would be unlikely to be bothered by anyone else if she was seen in company with a man.
Lilian was looking quite pale now from the pain in her ankle, which Bobby could see had swollen significantly under her stockings. Her sister needed to rest, Bobby needed to work, and she was certain Lilian could handle a little flirting from the likes of Tony Scott.
‘If you’ve really finished making notes, Tony, then could you do me a favour?’ she asked.
He lit another of his smelly cigarettes. ‘Depends what it is, doesn’t it?’
