HR

4 – The day before Sydney

‘So, how many files have you created?’

‘Eighty-four.’

‘I say, jolly well done, darling. Why don’t you get us a cup of coffee now and have a break?’

Lucinda looked up wearily from her desk, her eyes red-rimmed and her hair in disarray. She watched as Cecilia filed her nails with precision and said, ‘I suppose you’re too busy to make coffee?’

‘Now don’t get shitty, darling, there’s a lot of thinking to do and it’s bloody hard work I don’t mind telling you. One simply isn’t used to it. Now, be a good girl and bring me a coffee.’

As Lucinda bustled angrily out of the office, Cecilia pondered her next move in preparing for Ms Lickstensteinberg’s visit. She picked up the ‘phone and dialled. ‘Daddy? Oh, Darling, its Cessy here. Look, I know it will be a dreadful bore, but I have a couple of colonials coming to visit and it would so impress them if they could stay at Twerton Manor. You know how they love a stately pile.’ She listened to the sweet old Marquis who would bluster but never deny his little girl anything. ‘Well, I thought we might put on the old family show, you know dress for dinner and get old Scrotum to do the butling bit. Oh, well, Scroton then, whatever his name is. Mummy can wear her pearls, she’ll love it. Ta awfully, Popsy, you’re a dear. Mua mua.’

Satisfied she put the phone down. Lucinda arrived as she did so and asked, ‘Who were you talking to?’

‘Oh, just Daddy. I’ve fixed for Lickshit to stay at the Manor. Drop her a quick email and tell her we’ll arrange the Rolls to get them from the airport.’

Tung tapped gently on Sydney’s door and waited. ‘Come,’ said the surly voice and she entered Ms Lickstensteinberg’s sanctum. ‘Read it,’ said Sydney who had not, so far as Tung knew, looked up.

‘It says, “The Marquis of Twerton asks the pleasure of your company at Twerton Manor during your stay here in Bath, confident it wil be more agreeable than to stay at an hotel. His chauffeur will meet you at London airport and convey to the manor. You are cordially invited to attend a formal dinner in your honour on the night of your arrival if this will be convenient. RSVP.” That’s from Lucinda Powers-Updyke. It also says the Chairman will attend as will Lucinda and The Rt Hon Cecilia Webb-Spinner.’ She pronouncd it ‘rut on.’

Sydney looked up suspiciously from her reading. ‘What, in the name of holy shite, does “Rut on” mean? Sounds like something sheep do. Never mind – tell her we accept. You’d better pack us something to wear at this “formal dinner.” God knows what it’ll be like.’ Tung slipped out of the office and sent the accepting email.

‘I think, darling,’ said Cecilia, ‘that I had better pop over to the Manor and get things sorted. I’ll be home later, do make sure there’s something to eat, one is so ravenous.’ She stood, collected her coat from the hat-stand and swept out of the room, leaving Lucinda angry and bemused.