‘He works in a garage. He’s Gladys’s brother,’ explained Vicky.
‘And is Gladys the lady involved?’
‘Yes, of course. She’s the box-office girl at the Regal. I dare say you know her.’
‘Good God! But how do you two come into it? You know, really this is a bit thick! You’ve no business to be mixed up in it, either of you.’
‘We aren’t mixed up in it,’ said Mary, in an annoyed voice. ‘At least, we shouldn’t be if Vicky hadn’t taken it upon herself to interview the man when he came here this afternoon.’
Hugh looked Vicky over critically. ‘Oh! Nice little handful, aren’t you? If you take my advice, you’ll keep your nose out of it.’
‘Yes, but I shouldn’t think I would,’ replied Vicky. ‘I’ve been very modern and advanced all day, and I quite feel I may have done a lot of good, talking to Percy.’
‘You’re more likely to have made things much worse,’ said Hugh unflatteringly. ‘Leave your stepfather to settle his affairs for himself. He’s probably quite capable of doing it without your assistance.’
‘Oh dear, you do seem to me to be most frightfully fragrant and old-world!’ said Vicky. ‘Besides practically dumb. Poor darling Wally never settles things, and the more I think about it the more I’m definitely against Ermyntrude having to pay up.’
‘You can’t do any good,’ persisted Hugh. ‘You’d merely make a nuisance of yourself.’
Vicky’s eyes glinted at him. ‘Well, I think you’re wrong. I often get very brilliant ideas, and I quite think I will over this, because I don’t want Ermyntrude to have to put up with a scandal she doesn’t like.’
With that she tossed the stump of her cigarette into the fireplace, and walked out of the room.
Hugh turned to Mary. ‘But she’s incredible!’ he complained. ‘She just isn’t possible.’
‘I warned you,’ said Mary. ‘I can’t cope with her at all. I wish I could, because she’s quite capable of doing something outrageous.’
‘Little beast!’ said Hugh wholeheartedly. ‘Between friends, Mary, is this Baker fellow likely to make trouble?’
‘I don’t know, but if what Vicky told me was true I should think quite possibly. Oh dear, what a household we are!’
‘Poor Mary! It’s rotten for you.’
‘It’s worse for Aunt Ermy. I oughtn’t to be talking about it, but just lately things seem to have got dreadfully tense. Ever since that ghastly Prince arrived it’s been most uncomfortable – rather as though we were on the brink of something disastrous.’
‘Do you mean that he’s had something to do with it?’
‘No, not really. Don’t let’s talk about it! I hope to Heaven Vicky hasn’t gone to barge in on Uncle and Percy Baker. That would just about tear things wide open.’
‘Vicky,’ said Hugh, ‘wants suppressing.’
‘You’re telling me! I say, what on earth shall we do if Baker does start a row?’
‘I haven’t thought out the answer to that one,’ Hugh confessed. ‘What you might call a delicate situation.’
Happily, no sounds of strife in the library came to disturb the absorption of the Bridge-players in the drawing-room. Wally returned presently, not, apparently, much disturbed by his interview with Mr Baker, and was easily persuaded to cut into the game. He was mendaciously assuring his partner, Connie Bawtry, that he was conversant with the rules governing the Four-Five-No-Trump convention, when the butler made his second entrance, and informed him that Mr White wished to speak with him on the telephone.
This was too much for Ermyntrude. Before Wally had time to reply, she told Peake to inform Mr White that his master was engaged, and could not come to the telephone.
Bridge came to an end at eleven o’clock, and after everyone had added up his or her score, the errors had been traced to their sources, and a result arrived at which satisfied everyone, it was half an hour later, and the Derings’ car had been announced quite twenty minutes earlier.
The initial strain of entertaining guests of whom she stood in awe, coupled with the alarming announcement of Mr Baker’s arrival, and capped by Harold White’s ill-timed telephone call, had proved to be too much for Ermyntrude. She felt quite unequal to the task (clearly incumbent on her) of demanding an explanation of his conduct from Wally, and after bidding the Prince good night in a failing voice, she went upstairs
to bed, leaning heavily on the banisters.
The Prince did not long outstay her. He refilled his glass once, but as Wally, who had been replenishing his throughout the evening, showed an inclination to indulge in long, rambling reminiscences, he soon excused himself, and withdrew.
If Wally had hoped to have escaped questioning that night, he had reckoned without his stepdaughter. That damsel was lying in wait for him, and came out of her bedroom when he passed her door on his way to his own.