Twelve Red Herrings (22 page)

“I think he
suspects something,” whispered Hazel as they tiptoed down the staircase.

“You may be
right,” said Ted, placing his plumed hat on the stand in the hall, ‘but that’s
all the more reason to check we haven’t forgotten anything. I’ll start with the
dining room. You ought to go and see how Mrs. Travis is getting on in the
kitchen.” When Hazel entered the kitchen she found Mrs. Travis preparing the
vegetables, and one of the maids peeling a mound of potatoes. She thanked Mrs.
Travis for taking over at such short notice, and admitted she had never seen
the kitchen so full of exotic foods, or the surfaces so immaculately clean.
Even the floor was spotless. Realising that her presence was superfluous, Hazel
joined her husband in the dining room, where she found him admiring the
expertise of the second under-butler, who was laying out the place settings for
that evening, as a maid folded napkins to look like swans.

“So far, so
good,” said Hazel. They left the dining room and entered the drawing room,
where Ted paced up and
down,
trying to think if there
was anything he had forgotten while they waited for the great man to join them
for tea.

A few minutes
later, Mounthatten walked in. He was no longer dressed in his Admiral’s
uniform, but had changed into a dark grey double-breasted suit.

“Damn it,”
thought Ted, immediately aware of what he’d forgotten to do.

Hazel rose to
greet her guest, and guided him to a large, comfortable chair.

“I must say,
Lady Barker, your butler is a splendid chap,” said Mounthatten. “He even knew
the brand of whisky I prefer. How long have you had him?”

“Not very long,”
admitted Hazel.

“Well, if he
ever wants a job in England, don’t hesitate to let me know – though I’m bound
to say, you’d be a fool to part with him,” he added, as a maid came in carrying
a beautiful Wedgwood tea service that Hazel had never set eyes on before. “Earl
Grey, if I remember correctly,” said Hazel.

“What a memory
you have, Lady Barker,” said the Admiral, as the maid began to pour.

“Thank God for
the Foreign Office briefing,” Hazel thought, as she accepted the compliment
with a smile.

“And how did the
Conference go, sir?” asked Ted, as he dropped a lump of sugar – the one thing
he felt might be their own – into his cup of tea.

“For the
British, quite well,” said Mounthatten. “But it would have gone better if the
French hadn’t been up to their usual tricks.

Giscard seems to
regard himself as a cross between Charlemagne and Joan of Arc.” His hosts
laughed politely. “No, the real problem we’re facing at the moment, Ted, is
quite simply...” By the time Mounthatten had dealt with the outcome of the
summit, given his undiluted views of James Callaghan and Ted Heath, covered the
problem of finding a wife for Prince Charles and mulled over the long-term
repercussions of Watergate, it was almost time for him to change.

“Are we dressing
for dinner?”

“Yes, sir – if
that meets with your approval.”

“Full
decorations?”
Mounthatten asked, sounding hopeful.

“I thought that
would be appropriate, sir,” replied Ted, remembering the Foreign Office’s
advice about the Admiral’s liking for dressing up at the slightest opportunity.

Mounthatten
smiled as Carruthers appeared silently at the door.

Ted raised an
eyebrow.

“I have laid out
the full dress uniform, m’lord. I took the liberty of pressing the trousers. The
bedroom maid is drawing a bath for you.” Mounthatten smiled. “Thank you,” he
said as he rose from his chair. “Such a splendid tea,” he added turning to face
his hostess.

“And
such wonderful staff.
Hazel, I don’t know how you do it.’

“Thank you,
sir,” said Hazel, trying not to blush.

“What time would
you like me to come down for dinner,
Ted ?’

Mounthatten
asked.

“The first
guests should be arriving for drinks at about 7.30, sir. We were hoping to
serve dinner at eight, if that’s convenient for you.”

“Couldn’t be
better,” declared Mounthatten. “How many are you expecting?”

“Around
sixty, sir.
You’ll find a guest list on your bedside table. Perhaps Hazel and I could come
and fetch you at 7.5o?’

“You run a tight
ship, Ted,” said Mounthatten with approval.

“You’ll find me
ready the moment you appear,” he added as he followed Carruthers out of the
room.

Once the door
was closed behind him, Hazel said to the maid, “Molly, can you clear away the
tea things, please?” She hesitated for a moment. “It is Molly, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am,”
said the girl.

“I think he
knows,” said Ted, looking a little anxious.

“Maybe, but we
haven’t time to worry about that now,” said Hazel, already on her way to carry
out a further inspection of the kitchen.

The mound of
potatoes had diminished to a peeled heap.
Mrs.

Travis, who was
preparing the sauces, was calling for more pepper and for some spices to be
fetched from a shop in town. Aware once again that she wasn’t needed in the
kitchen, Hazel moved on to the dining room, where she found Ted. The top table
was now fully laid with the King’s dinner service, three sets of wine glasses,
crested linen napkins, and a glorious centrepiece of a silver pheasant, which
gave added sparkle. “Who lent us that?” she asked.

“I have no
idea,” replied Ted. “But one thing’s for certain – it will have flown home by
the morning.”

“If we keep the
lighting low enough,” whispered Hazel, ‘he might not notice that the other
tables all have different cutlery.”

“Heavens, just
look at the time,” said Ted.

They left the
dining room and walked quickly up the stairs. Ted nearly barged straight into
Mounthatten’s room, but remembered just in time.

The Governor
rather liked his dark blue doeskin uniform with the scarlet collar and cuffs.
He was admiring the ensemble in the mirror when Hazel entered the room in a
pink Hardy Amies outfit, which she had originally thought a waste of money
because she never expected it to be given a proper outing.

Then are so
vain,” she remarked as her husband continued to inspect himself in the mirror.
“You do realise you’re only meant to wear that in winter.”

“I am well aware
of that,” said Ted peevishly, ^”but it’s the only other uniform I’ve got. In
any case, I bet Mounthatten will outdo us both.” He flicked a piece of fluff from
his trousers, which he had just finished pressing.

The Governor and
his wife left the Nelson Room and walked down the main staircase just before
7.20, to find yet another under-butler stationed by the front door, and two
more maids standing opposite him carrying silver trays laden with glasses of
champagne. Hazel introduced herself to the three of them, and again checked the
flowers in the entrance hall.

As
7.3o struck on the long-case clock in the lobby the first guest walked in.

“Henry,” said
the Governor.
“Lovely to see you.
Thank you so much
for the use of the Rolls. And Bill, come to that,” he added in a stage whisper.

“My pleasure,
Your Excellency,” Henry Bendall replied. “I must say, I like the uniform.” Lady
Cuthbert came bustling through the front door. “Can’t stop,” she said. “Ignore
me. Just pretend I’m not here.”

“Dotty, I simply
don’t know what we would have done without you,” Hazel said, chasing after her
across the hall.

“Delighted to
lend a hand,” said Lady Cuthbert. “I thought I’d come bang on time, so I could
spend a few minutes in the kitchen with Mrs. Travis. By the way, Benson is
standing out in the drive, ready to rush home if you find you’re still short of
anything.”

“You are a
saint, Dotty. I’ll take you through...”

“No, don’t worry,”
said Lady Cuthbert. “I know my way around. You just carry on greeting your
guests.”

“Good evening,
Mr. Mayor,” said Ted, as Lady Cuthbert disappeared in the direction of the
kitchen.

“Good evening,
Your
Excellency.
How kind of you to invite
us to such an auspicious occasion.”

“And what a
lovely dress, Mrs. Janson,’ said the Governor.

“Thank you, Your
Excellency,” said the Mayor’s wife.

“Would you care
for a glass of champagne?” said Hazel as she arrived back at her husband’s
side.

By 7.45 most of
the guests had arrived, and Ted was chatting to Mick Flaherty when Hazel
touched him on the elbow. He glanced towards her.

“I think we
should go and fetch him now,” she whispered.

Ted nodded, and
asked the Chief Justice to take over the welcoming of the guests. They wove a
path through the chattering throng, and climbed the great staircase. When they
reached the door of the Queen Victoria Room, they paused and looked at each
other.

Ted checked his
watch – 7.50. He leaned forward and gave a gentle tap. Carruthers immediately
opened the door to reveal Mounthatten attired in his third outfit of the day:
full ceremonial uniform of an Admiral of the Fleet, three stars, a gold and
blue sash and eight rows of campaign decorations.

“Good evening,
Your
Excellency,” said Mounthatten.

“Good evening,
sir,” said the Governor, star struck.

The Admiral took
three paces forward and came to a halt at the top of the staircase. He stood to
attention. Ted and Hazel waited on either side of him. As he didn’t move, they
didn’t.

Carruthers
proceeded slowly down the stairs in front of them, stopping on the third step.
He cleared his throat and waited for the assembled guests to fall silent.

“
Your
Excellency, Prime Minister, Mr. Mayor, ladies and
gentlemen,’ he announced. “
The Right Honourable the Earl
Mounthatten of Burma.’

Mounthatten
descended the stairs slowly as the waiting guests applauded politely. As he
passed Carruthers, the butler gave a deep bow. The Governor, with Hazel on his
arm, followed two paces behind.

“He must know,”
whispered Hazel.

“You may be
right. But does he
know
we know?” said Ted.

Mounthatten
moved deftly around the room, as Ted introduced him to each of the guests in
turn. They bowed and curtsied, listening attentively to the few words the
Admiral had to say to them. The one exception was Mick Flaherty, who didn’t
stop talking, and remained more upright than Ted had ever seen him before.

At eight o’clock
one of the under’butlers banged a gong, which until then neither the Governor nor
his wife had even realised existed.

As the sound
died away, Carruthers announced, “My Lord,
Your
Excellency, Prime Minister, Mr. Mayor, ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served.”
If there was a better cook on St George’s than Mrs. Travis, no one at the top
table had ever been fed by her, and that evening she had excelled herself.

Mounthatten
chatted and smiled, making no secret of how much he was enjoying himself. He
spent a long time talking to Lady Cuthbert, whose husband had served under him
at Portsmouth, and to Mick Flaherty, to whom he listened with polite interest.

Each course
surpassed the one before: souffle, followed by lamb cutlets, and an apricot
hazelnut meringue to complete the feast.

Mounthatten
remarked on every one of the wines, and even called for a second glass of port.

After dinner, he
joined the guests for coffee in the drawing room, and managed to have a word
with everyone, even though Colonel Hodges tried to buttonhole him about defence
cuts.

The guests began
to leave a few minutes before midnight, and Ted was amused to see that when
Mick Flaherty bade farewell to the Admiral, he bowed low and said, “Good night,
My Lord. It has been an honour to meet you.” Dotty was among the last to
depart, and she curtsied low to the guest of honour. “You’ve helped to make
this such a pleasant evening, Lady Cuthbert,” Mounthatten told her.

“If you only
knew just how much,” thought Hazel.

After the
under-butler had closed the door on the last guest, Mounthatten turned to his
hostess and said, “Hazel, I must thank you for a truly memorable occasion. The
head chef at the Savoy couldn’t have produced a finer banquet.
Perfect in every part.”

“You are very
kind, sir. I will pass your thanks on to the staff.” She just stopped herself
from saying ‘my staff’. “Is there anything else we can do for you before you
retire?”

“No, thank you,”
Mounthatten replied. “It has been a long day, and with your permission, I’ll
turn in now.’

“And at what
time would you like breakfast, sir?” asked the Governor.

“Would 7.3 be
convenient?” Mounthatten asked. “That will give me time to fly out at nine.”