Having a Ball (21 page)

Stevie peered past and saw that the large forecourt was full of cars. Tom,
Priya and Evelyn's cars were well and truly hemmed in by those of later arrivals.
Stevie hoped that none of them would need to get out before the guests left, or
there would be chaos.

"You should have reserved me a space." Lady Beryl glared at her.

Stevie resisted the temptation to point out that had Lady Beryl showed
up when she was supposed to, parking would not have been a problem. Instead she
said, "I do apologize Lady Beryl. I should have thought of that. Perhaps Evelyn has a
visitor's permit she can give you."

Lady Beryl stood there, glaring at her. Obviously expecting Stevie to run
in and find Evelyn.

"Evelyn's in the kitchen, I think." Stevie kept her tone pleasant. "I'm on
door duty, so I can't really leave. Unless you want to take over immediately, of
course."

Lady Beryl sniffed and swept off. She returned a few minutes later,
looking even crosser. "Evelyn hasn't got any parking permits, or so she says." From
her expression, Stevie surmised that Evelyn may have said a bit more than
that.

"Oh dear. I'm sure there's plenty of spaces in the roads nearby. And it's
free after 9:00 p.m., so you only need to pay for two hours." She smiled as sweetly
as she could. "I'm so glad you're here. We need someone with authority
around."

Looking slightly mollified, Lady Beryl went to park her car. When she
returned, she hung her coat up carefully in the cupboard under the stairs. The
cupboard usually housed assorted junk, but tonight it had been cleared and a
clothes rail put in, so that it would take coats.

"Lord Grayingham will be arriving shortly," she said, as she shut the
cupboard door. "He will be accompanied by some friends."

Stevie consulted her list. Four friends. Two double-barrelled surnames,
one Major and a Mrs. "In that case, it's brilliant that you'll be here to greet them."
She smiled. "I'm happy doing door duty, but it would look so much better if you
were here instead. It would lend the event so much more
gravitas
."

Lady Beryl nodded in acknowledgement of the compliment. "Let me see
that list." She scanned down the names. "Who is this Peter Gosling? Why has he
been marked with a star?"

"He's a VIP. Can you let me know when he arrives? He's the reason we
managed to sell all the tickets in the end."

"Lord Grayingham has not been marked with a star."

"Hasn't he? Oh dear. He should have been." Stevie whipped out a pen and
drew a star next to the name.
Anything to keep the old bat happy.

"And this person?" Lady Beryl pointed to another highlighted name. It
was the reporter from
Cause Celeb
.

"Er yes, another important person. All part of the publicity campaign that
sold the tickets." Stevie pointed. "As people come in, check off their ticket numbers
and names. That way we know which tickets have already passed through here and
we know whom we need to locate, in case of a fire alarm."

Lady Beryl nodded her understanding.

"Just point them in the direction of the bar. If they loiter in the hall,
suggest they check out Priya's display on the charity..." Stevie rattled off the
instructions she'd given the others earlier in the day. She could tell Lady Beryl
wasn't really listening. "Any problems with anything, anything at all, just call me.
Here are the useful phone numbers, including mine."

Lady Beryl took the piece of card and dropped it into her handbag. "I'm
sure there won't be any need." The doorbell rang.

"I'll leave you to it." Stevie fled before Lady Beryl made her act as door
maid for her.

As she rounded the corner, she nearly collided with Alice.

"What time's Pete arriving?" said Alice. She was dressed in a purple outfit
and wearing far too much eye makeup. It was a look that could only be carried out
by someone in her teens.

"I don't know," said Stevie. Pop stars liked to make an entrance. Even
someone relatively down to earth like Pete would leave it until fairly late, to ensure
they turned up when the party was in full swing. "Not for a while yet, I should
think."

"Can I help with door duty?" Alice's eyes sparkled. "Gran said she could
spare me."

Stevie looked her up and down. She looked kooky and young, but she
would be a nice counterpoint to the overbearing Lady Beryl. "Okay. That's a good
idea. Can you let me know if there are any problems and make sure Lady Beryl
doesn't insult anyone?"

Alice pulled a face. "I'll try. Lady Beryl can insult most people without
even trying."

"Precisely. I think a friendly face to counter balance that would be a good
thing." Stevie gave her a conspiratorial smile. "Besides, I can count on you to
recognise Pete."

Alice flushed.

"There's a reporter coming from
Cause Celeb
. I think her name is
Amber Jackson. Make her welcome and let me know she's here. Whatever you do,
don't let Lady Beryl figure out she's from a gossip mag."

"Okay."

"Brilliant. Off you go then." Stevie watched Alice skitter off in ridiculously
high purple sandals and suddenly felt very old. Shaking her head, she went to the
bar to check that everything was under control.

* * * *

As Stevie neared the bar, Vienna came down the side stairs. She was
wearing a figure-hugging red sequined dress that sparkled when she walked. Her
blonde hair flowed to her shoulders, and her makeup was glamorous and perfect.
She smiled at Stevie and entered the bar just ahead of her.

Stevie couldn't help noticing that as soon as she did so, Vienna's stride
lengthened slightly, making her hips swing suggestively with each step.

Tom was busy pouring champagne and talking to Olivia, who was sitting
to one side. He paused in his work when he spotted Vienna. His eyes rested on her
briefly before they looked past her and found Stevie. He smiled.

Vienna cast the briefest glance over her shoulder.

Yes!
Stevie one. Vienna nil.

"Hello Vienna," said Olivia.

"Hello Og," Vienna replied. "Still telling other people how to run their
business?"

"Oh yes. How about you? Still parting fools from their money?"

Vienna laughed. "You haven't changed a bit," she said, with ice in her
voice. "It's lovely to see you."

"You too." She turned to Tom. "Darling, thank you
so
much for
letting me use your room. Did you want your key back now? Or later?" She left the
comment hanging in the air.

"You keep hold of it," Tom said. "It'll save you having to track me down
when you need it." He handed her a glass of champagne. "You look nice, by the
way."

Stevie couldn't help noticing the slight stiffening of Vienna's shoulders.
She smiled.

"Is everything okay, Stevie?" said Tom.

"Just checking if you needed anything."

"Actually, yes. We could do with some tea towels or something in here,
for spills and things."

"Right. I shall sort that out right away." Stevie gave him a businesslike
nod.
Stevie two. Vienna, still nil.

* * * *

Most people seemed to drift towards the garden. They sat or stood in
groups, sipping their drinks and chatting. The summer evening was warm and
mellow. Stevie went out to check whether the food trays needed replenishing.

As she approached the table, an elderly man with a handlebar moustache
helped himself to a couple of buns that had been helpfully labelled "Hot and Spicy".
He looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"You the party planner girl?"

"Yes sir, I am." Stevie smiled pleasantly, noting that the less fiery nibbles
were almost gone. She began to gather empty trays.

"Splendid buns these," he said.

"I'm glad you like them, Mr...?"

"Major. Major Cosham."

Ah, Lady Beryl's friend. "I'm glad you like them, Major Cosham. I see
they're a bit strong for a lot of people."

"That's why I like 'em," he said. "Reminds me of my time in India. Good
stuff, this. Not like the nonsense you get in curry houses." He paused for a moment,
his eyes far away.

Stevie carried on gathering plates.

"I say," said the Major. "What's the name of your caterer?"

"There isn't one. We made all these nibbles here, under Priya's excellent
supervision."

The Major bit another bun in half and gulped it down. Stevie was
impressed. She'd tried one of those and it had made her eyes water.

"You mean to say, Evelyn and Beryl made these? Well, I'll be
damned."

"Evelyn and Priya, yes. Of course, the rest of us, helped out."

"Hmm." The Major eyed the food. "Excuse me." He wandered off
bellowing "Darling!" at a woman who was standing at the other end of the lawn
talking to someone.

Stevie watched him go and then returned to her task.

A middle-aged woman appeared at her elbow. "The garden looks
fabulous," she said. "Has Evelyn got a new man?"

Stevie was about to reply that she wasn't privy to the details of Evelyn's
love life, when she realised the woman was talking about a gardener.

"Evelyn's son, Tom, did the garden," she said. Just saying Tom's name
sent a little thrill through her chest.

"Which one's Tom?" the woman said.

"The younger one," said another woman. "Who works in The City." She
glanced at Stevie for confirmation.

"That's right." Stevie picked up the empty trays. "He's doing the bar this
evening."

"Oooh. He's quite a dishy specimen. I'd happily watch him doing my
garden." The first woman giggled and knocked back her wine. "Why, I believe I
need another drink." She giggled again and wove off towards the house.

Stevie's fixed smile was starting to hurt her cheeks, but she had to
maintain it. She started back toward the house.

The Major's voice boomed. "That young lady there."

Stevie turned to see a small, trim lady approaching her. "Hello. Did you
want me?"

"I'm Mrs. Cosham. I was wondering, do you have a card? We will be
organising a ruby wedding anniversary soon and--"

"Of course. Just a second." Stevie scurried back to the table to put the
trays down and retrieved a card from her bag. "Do call me. Whenever you
need."

"Thank you." The lady scanned the card before putting it in her clutch
bag. "I must say, you seem to have done a lovely job on Evelyn's house."

"It was a group effort." Stevie's heart skipped. With any luck, this
conversation would lead to another commission. This was what it was all
about.

Mrs. Cosham studied the card carefully. "Thank you." She gave Stevie a
perfunctory smile and returned to her conversation.

Feeling hopeful that this party was going to start her career, Stevie picked
up her trays again.

She heard the excited voices as she got to the hall. Three teenage girls, all
dressed in variations of Alice's outfit, were all talking at once, despite Lady Beryl's
efforts to speak over them. Alice, who should have been helping Lady Beryl, was
jiggling up and down and yapping excitedly too. Stevie guessed that the girls from
the forum had arrived.

"Oooh, ooh," said Alice, when she spotted Stevie. "Everyone, this is Stevie.
She's the one who organised it for Pete to come."

Stevie put the trays down next to the collection tin. "Hi."

"Hiyeee." It was a chorus of three. Stevie immediately singled out the girl
who was the leader. She had a mass of blonde curls and too much make up on. Her
skirt was so low slung it was almost obscene.

"These young ladies have not shown me their tickets," said Lady Beryl,
finally making herself heard.

The girl in the lead rolled her eyes. She dug the ticket out of her handbag.
A rather large handbag, Stevie noticed. "Here." She thrust the ticket at Lady Beryl.
"Happy?"

Lady Beryl glared at her and ticked off the number. "I need your
name."

"What for?"

"Only so that we know who's here, in case there's an emergency," said
Stevie, smoothly. "Like a fire, for example. I know it's a pain, but it's a health and
safety thing."

The girl's eyes flicked to Stevie and back to Lady Beryl. "Veronica
Smith."

Stevie knew immediately that she'd just been given a made up name. She
didn't even bother listening to the other two girls, who would probably give fake
names too. She knew trouble when she saw it. A quick glance at the three girls'
faces told her that under all that make up, they were probably very young. She
would have to warn Tom at the bar.

"So is he not here yet then?" said Veronica to Alice.

"Not yet."

"You're sure he's coming?"

Alice looked at Stevie.

"Of course," said Stevie. "He's just waiting for the best moment, I'm
sure."

"There's a reporter from
Cause Celeb
coming too--" Alice caught
Stevie's eye and clamped her mouth shut.

"What," said Lady Beryl, "is that?"

"Oh, just a magazine." Stevie gave Alice a warning glare. "Like
Tattler."

Lady Beryl looked unhappy, but let it pass. Stevie wondered if she
approved of Tattler or not.

Stevie ushered the girls inside. "The disco is through there," she said.
"There's food in there. And the bar is here. If you'll excuse me." She left them
exclaiming about the impressive hall and ran to find Tom.

Tom and Olivia were serving wine and beer as fast as they could. Vienna
was nowhere to be seen. He looked up when Stevie ran in.

"What's up?"

"There are three girls just arrived. I'm pretty sure they're under age and
they're bound to have fake ID. They seem that sort," she whispered.

Tom nodded. "Right ho. I'll see what I can do." He tapped a sign behind
him that read "We reserve the right to refuse to serve alcohol at our discretion". "If
all else fails, I'll use that."

"Okay. The one with the blonde curls just gave her name as Veronica,"
said Stevie. "In case it's useful to know. According to my list, at least one of them is
called Jemima Eustace something"