“And were you sacked by your previous employer?”
“Not exactly, sir, but when I left she refused to supply me with a reference.”
“What reason did she give for that?”
“I was walkin’ out with the second footman, ’aving failed to inform the butler, who is in charge of the ’ousehold.”
“And are you still walking out with the second footman?”
The girl hesitated. “Yes, sir,” she said. “You
see, we’re ’oping to be married as soon as we’ve saved up enough.”
“Good,” said Charlie. “Then you can report for duty next Monday morning. Mr. Arnold will deal with all the necessary arrangements.”
When Charlie told Becky he had employed a lady’s maid for her she laughed at first, then asked, “And what would I want with one of those?” Charlie told her exactly why she wanted “one of those.” When he had finished all Becky said was, “You’re an evil man, Charlie Trumper, that’s for sure.”
It was at the February board meeting in 1924 that Crowther warned his colleagues that Number 1 Chelsea Terrace might well come on the market earlier than anticipated.
“Why’s that?” asked Charlie, a little anxiously.
“Your estimate of another two years before Fothergill would have to cave in is beginning to look prophetic.”
“So how much does he want?”
“It’s not quite as simple as that.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s decided to auction the property himself.”
“Auction it?” inquired Becky.
“Yes,” said Crowther. “That way he avoids paying any fees to an outside agent.”
“I see. So what are you expecting the property to fetch?” asked the colonel.
“Not an easy one to answer, that,” replied Crowther. “It’s four times the size of any other shop in the Terrace, it’s on five floors and it’s even bigger than Syd Wrexall’s pub on the other corner. It also has the largest shop frontage in Chelsea and a double entrance on the corner facing the Fulham Road. For all those reasons it’s not that simple to estimate its value.”
“Even so, could you try and put a figure on it?” asked the chairman.
“If you were to press me I’d say somewhere in the region of two thousand, but it could be as much as three, if anyone else were to show an interest.”
“What about the stock?” asked Becky. “Do we know what’s happening to that?”
“Yes, it’s being sold along with the building.”
“And what’s it worth?” asked Charlie. “Roughly?”
“More Mrs. Trumper’s department than mine, I feel,” said Crowther.
“It’s no longer that impressive,” said Becky. “A lot of Fothergill’s best works have already gone through Sotheby’s, and I suspect Christie’s have seen just as many during the past year. However, I would still expect what’s left over to fetch around a thousand pounds under the hammer.”
“So the face value of the property and the stock together appears to be around the three-thousand-pound mark,” suggested Hadlow.
“But Number 1 will go for a lot more than that,” said Charlie.
“Why?” queried Hadlow.