Midnight Flit

by Elin Gregory

  "Pritchard, you are a corker. The SIS is missing a trick by not having more gentlemen's gentlemen on the force. Can I interest you in a post in Belgrade, by any chance?"

  "And leave Mr Siward, sir? I should think not, though the offer is very flattering."

  "Then let's split the jobs. I'll order us some tea - I expect Lady S is parched by now - and you sort out Miles."

  "Indeed, sir," Pritchard said. "Master Miles is looking a bit strained. I understand that the last couple of days have been ... difficult?"

  "Well yes, he took quite a punch to the gut - and on top of that Smethwick is being an ass to him," Briers said. "See if you can get him to have a rest before dinner, please, Pritchard. The day isn't over yet."

  He felt the need for some peace and quiet himself. The moment they had arrived at the hotel Lady Siward had requested that a call to a number in Bucharest be put through to their suite and, for a wonder, they had been connected very quickly. He had tried not to eavesdrop, but it was second nature now. Lady Siward and Miles had assured Sir Clive Siward that they were unharmed, then apologised abjectly for the worry they had caused. As well they might. Briers recalled how his throat had closed with panic at the thought of never seeing Miles again. Sir Clive Siward must have been frantic. Nothing that had happened was their fault, but all the same - expressing regret was not the same as admitting culpability.

  Afterwards Miles had been pale and subdued, hence Briers's insistence that he put his feet up for half an hour. Lady Siward had fallen on the trunk Pritchard had packed for her with a cry of joy and had expressed the intention of having a bath, so Briers summoned a porter and demanded refreshments. Miles's book was on the table and Briers picked it up and read the first few pages while he waited for room service, then another couple once he had a cup of excellent coffee in his hand. The clink of silver on china must have been audible in Lady S's room, though, because it wasn't long before she joined him already dressed for dinner and looking superb in bias cut jade green silk.

  "Tea," she said. "You're a life saver, Brian. No, no, don't get up. I'll serve myself."

  Once she too had her drink she settled onto a loveseat and smiled at him over the gold-plated rim of her cup. "What are you reading? Oh, Mr Walpole. Such a nice man. Speaking of which, I'm glad we were able to help Mr Utkin and Mr Lacroix. Pleasant young people but not, I feel, terribly practical. I was surprised not to see Father Falcone as we left the station. I felt sure he would want to be close to hand."

  "Well," Briers considered a suitable response because he had theories of his own about Falk's disappearance, "we may not notice him but I am sure he's here somewhere."

  "Miles seems very wary of him?"

  "With good reason, but they have deep respect for each other's talents and I believe they quite enjoy their verbal sniping. I'm glad of that. Having him around is probably not a liability in this situation."

  "And for how long have you known him?"

  Briers smiled. "Lady Siward, are you trying to get all my secrets out of me?"

  "I'm doing my utmost," she admitted.

  "I've known him since 1924. We worked together on a couple of occasions, in Vienna and elsewhere, and then again during that affair in London in 1928. That's where Miles met him. You understand that our business can sometimes call for spur of the moment alliances with people who might normally be our enemies."

  "Your line of work calls for strange bedfellows." Lady Siward smiled at him, sweet and affectionate, but with a steely glint in her eye. "Which brings me to the nub of the matter. Mr Allerdale, can you tell me the exact nature of your intentions towards my son? This is excellent tea. Might I have a top up?"

  Of all the things she could have said, Briers hadn't been expecting that. But he prided himself on his reputation for keeping calm, so he picked up the teapot. "Of course," he said. "It looks rather strong. Shall I add hot water?"

  "No, it's fine as it is, so go ahead - both with the pouring, and answering my question."

  Briers made the tea. "My intentions are to get you both safely to London so you can tell your story to Miles's superiors."

  "I'd grasped that." Lady Siward took her cup back with a word of thanks and relaxed into the velvet brocade upholstery. "But, Mr Allerdale, I'm not an idiot and I wasn't born yesterday and I have eyes. I did not notice, for instance, that you looked at your good friend and regular colleague, Mr Bassett, with any of the same enthusiasm you level at my son, with whom you have worked twice or perhaps three times. I also cannot imagine Miles expressing the intention to take a bullet, as he did earlier today, for even Mr Charles Naylor, whom he holds in great fondness. He'd be too busy trying to get a shot off of his own."

  Briers couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. "He would at that." He took a moment to imagine the situation, drawing on memories and relishing the mental image. Miles or Millie, resolute and focussed, never failed to arouse. Then he caught Miles's mother' eye and felt his colour rise instead. He picked up his coffee cup, as though the fragile bone china might act as a shield against the sharpness of her gaze as well as giving him a reason for his hesitation. He had never - in his most appalling nightmares - expected to be in a situation like this, but he liked the woman and felt she deserved an answer, though not a totally honest one. To say 'If you hadn't been there, I'd have locked the compartment to see how many times I could make him come between Belgrade and Budapest' wasn't an option. He did have some decency left.

  "I have the utmost respect for your son," he said. "We work well as a team. Our skills are complementary. If I had my way, and it were possible and he agreed, I would be delighted if we could be assigned together. I trust him absolutely. Do you understand how rare it is in my profession to have someone you can truly count on?"

  She nodded and her lips quirked. "And personally?"

  "Personally? I... um - "

  "You love him 'like a rat loves Cheddar', I believe you said?"

  "You were awake!" Briers glared at her. "You know, Lady S, it's not often I'm fooled but - "

  "I wasn't awake for much longer after that." Lady Siward gave him a sunny smile. "I was so relieved. You really have no idea how much he values your... friendship, how warmly he speaks of you, and I feared that perhaps he was just an amusement."

  "He's amusing all right. But Miles isn't just anything." Briers set his coffee cup aside and leaned forward to take her hands. "He's funny, challenging, clever, sometimes bloody-minded - excuse my French - and he's brave, not nearly as fragile as he looks and... I... I'd do pretty much anything to prevent him coming to harm, including never seeing him again if I thought our friendship might harm his prospects or damage him in the eyes of his family. He adores you all, you see."

  Lady Siward's chin lifted and she stared at him for a long moment. "But do you love him?" she asked.

  Briers had never really thought about it in those terms. All the married men he knew would - if pushed - admit to loving their wives and children, but most men like him that he had met were just grateful to have a brief moment of closeness and pleasure. That he'd gladly die for Miles and, he was sure, Miles for him, carried no weight before court or church, but still...

  "Yes," he said. "I do love him."

  Lady S gave his hands a quick squeeze and sat back in her seat. "You'll do," she said. "I can see that he adores you, too, and all I've ever wanted for him is that he'll be happy - so, for what it's worth, you have my support."

  "And the law?" Briers asked.

  "Oh, the law..." Lady Siward wrinkled her nose. "Labouchere was a creepy little man and the most terrible hypocrite."

  "I do not believe you ever met the man! What were you? Five?"

  "Oh, Mr Allerdale," She batted her eyelashes at him in a way he recognised must have influenced Millie, "you're such a flatterer. If I were twenty years younger I might make a play for you myself."

  "And if my boots weren't rather on the other feet, you'd be welcome to," Briers said. "More tea, Lady S?"

  "No thank y
ou. I've had quite enough." She grinned. "And this conversation never happened, of course; my darling boy honestly believes I don't know." She sighed and reached forward to pat his knee. "And it's Emily from now on, if you don't mind? And may I call you Briers? When you're not being Brian, of course."

  "I'd be honoured," Briers said, and it was no word of a lie.

  #

  Miles joined them half an hour later in a stylish but subdued creation with dark blue lace over satin, that Briers remembered from a very happily-resolved assignment in Brighton, sapphires sparkling in his ears and a brand new hairdo. He got up and went to meet him, taking his hand. "I have no idea what I did to be blessed with two such attractive dinner companions. You look wonderful."

  "I have no idea what I did to be blessed with Pritchard. This is all his handiwork." Miles smiled at Briers then turned to his mother. "New frock? That colour suits you and sets off your pearls a treat."

  Miles's frock had quite a low back. Briers suppressed the urge to lick up between his shoulder blades, and hurried to make his own toilette. A quick wash and brush up would do, and he slipped into his evening suit with alacrity.

  "Cufflinks and studs, sir?" Pritchard asked, offering the box. Another happy memory - Miles had bought those for him on a trip to Paris. "And I've given your shoes a buff up. They will need resoling before too much longer. I can arrange that when we get back to London."

  "How would we manage without you, Pritchard?"

  "Sir, it would be utter chaos."

  "Undoubtedly. But I have another favour to ask."

  "If it's within my power, sir... "

  "Yes. It's unlikely that I'll be able to afford to bring Miles to a place as plush as this again, so I'd like to make a bit of an occasion out of it."

  "Something a bit special, sir? An anniversary, perhaps? As far as the hotel is concerned?"

  "Grand idea. Our two year, eleven month and a bit less than two weeks anniversary, though you could round it up to three years for show."

  Pritchard chuckled and nodded. "I can do that. Flowers, champagne and rum truffles at the very least."

  "Ideal," Briers said, confident he'd be sipping champagne from Miles's navel by midnight. "Miles doesn't pay you nearly enough."

  "I know, sir," Pritchard smiled, apparently quite unruffled by the inequalities of the world. "But with the depression still on, and even the king taking a pay cut, one is grateful for what one gets. Now get along. It wouldn't do to keep the ladies waiting."

  #

  Briers would have happily traded 'dining fashionably late' for 'dining when actually hungry', but the menu and surroundings were grand enough to act as compensation. He wasn't poorly paid by any means, but even Miles and Emily, who were presumably somewhat better off, raised well-plucked eyebrows at the sheer opulence of the high ceiling dotted with chandeliers, the hand painted walls and the tone of the grand piano. There was even one party of four dining off crested porcelain and gold plate.

  "There is an increasingly rare and wonderful thing - a grand duchess," Emily murmured as Briers slid her seat in for her.

  "My goodness," Miles, who had seated himself as befitted a modern miss, glanced round casually. "Are they are rare as rough-legged buzzards? Who are the other three?"

  "Companion, secretary and husband, in order of importance. I don't know about buzzards, but this grand duchess always reminded me of an anglerfish."

  Briers snorted and nodded towards the entrance to the dining hall where John Smethwick, looking like he'd dropped a fiver and found a farthing, had just entered. "And here's our stuffed haddock," he said, "but Miss Carey more than makes up for him. You're obviously paying embassy staff too much. What a fabulous frock."

  That Diana had heard his last comment was obvious from her delighted grin and the colour in her face. She strode towards them, dark gold bias cut satin swirling around her feet and murmured her thanks as Briers seated her.

  "How's your accommodation?" Emily demanded. "I hope they haven't put you in a broom cupboard."

  "Perfectly fine," Diana grinned. "It's on the fourth floor with the most marvellous view of the city, and just a door away from the bathroom. John's is a little less convenient but we tossed a coin for who got what so I feel no guilt at all."

  "I am near the service lifts," John growled, glaring at Miles as though it was his fault. "Have you ordered yet? I'm starving."

  "No, John," Emily said. "We were very politely waiting for you."

  Smethwick grunted. "Well let's get on then."

  But his effort to summon service was thwarted by the entrance of the only man in the room who looked more miserable than he did, followed by a very merry party.

  "Here comes our Hollywood royalty," Briers said. "My goodness her lamprey looks miserable. Ah, Ruby has Mr Utkin in tow and there's Mr Lacroix with Janice. Do you think that's why Jonah looks so green?"

  It appeared they would soon find out, because Ruby beamed at the maitre d' and made a few laughing demands that led to her party being seated at the next table along.

  "Please forgive my horrendous American manners," she laughed when Miles greeted her, "but I don't see why we should sit on the other side of the room when you are clearly the most interesting people present."

  Briers gestured to a waiter, and within moments the tables had been rearranged, the settings repositioned and the diners shuffled into a pleasingly symmetrical male, female, male, female order. Briers was well content. He had placed Miles to his left, with Nik Utkin and Ruby as buffers between him and Smethwick who was staring at Jonah with distaste. Diana, bracketed between them, shot Briers an exasperated look that promised retribution.

  "Now, now boys, play nice," Ruby said, then leaned across to tap Miles’s shoulder. "Introduce us, Millie. We haven't met your friends here."

  That was simply done. John Smethwick and his widowed sister, Diana Carey, were returning home from a trip to Athens and were old friends of the Stenhouse and Carstairs families. Ruby was apparently as delighted to meet them as Diana was to meet her.

  "Ruby Aston, oh my goodness, please may I have your autograph? I loved you in The Outlaw of Nottingham!"

  They began to talk and Miles nudged Briers. "That's how to be a proper fan, that is," he whispered, then turned his attention to the menu.

  Briers had already chosen what he wanted so did his job and paid attention to his surrounding as the waiters took orders and began to serve. The dining room was busy with a lot of coming and going. The grand duchess had gone, her porcelain, plate and table linen, each bearing her proud but dispossessed crest, going with her, and tables were being rearranged for a larger party. Briers's soup arrived and was perfectly seasoned, but he sent the waiter to bring more water anyway, because he could and it was nice to be made a fuss of.

  "Let's have champagne," Ruby suggested.

  "One does not drink champagne with soup," Smethwick said.

  "One does if one wants to," Ruby replied and Briers felt Miles's shoulder shift as he suppressed a chuckle.

  "Champagne goes with everything," Diana agreed.

  It did. Briers might have chosen something a little more robust to go with his trout but the effervescence suited the quality of the light, frothy and frivolous conversation. Briers was pleased as punch to see how much everyone, except Smethwick and Jonah Rudd, were enjoying themselves. Diana and Ruby seemed to have bonded over John Barrymore, and Lady S put in a good word for Buster Keaton, getting a big laugh by extolling the quality of his bone structure. Briers enjoyed that, but was especially amused by Miles who had unleashed Millie for the evening and was giving as good as he got every time Smethwick tried to damp him down. It was glorious, and by the time the meal was finished, Briers had turned his chair a little so their calves were tight against each other under the table and he had his arm across the back of Miles's chair.

  More guests had arrived, and Briers had observed them and docketed them as of no interest or no threat. Briers barely glanced at the slim, elegant young cha
p who had just seated an equally slim and elegant, but much older, woman a few tables away. A kept man, he decided, and totally focussed on his meal ticket.

  The woman raised her voice. "Gervaise, darling," she said, "couldn't you get a better table than this?" The complaint seemed in character and no cause for concern, but Emily started and spilled the dregs of her champagne.

  Briers checked their companions but Lacroix was chatting to Janice and everyone else was watching Ruby and Diana. He took his arm from Miles's chair and leaned across to Emily

  "What's wrong?" he whispered.

  "Oh dear me." Emily raised her napkin to shield her profile. "Could one of you just look a moment? Is that woman who's berating her dining companion tall and dark, very well dressed, with too many diamonds even for suppertime?"

  Miles grinned. "That could describe a lot of the ladies here," he said. "We don't all have your elegant restraint, Ma." He looked over his shoulder and Briers saw the exact moment when the lady spotted them and widened her eyes.

  "Oh Emily!" she called and waved to Miles.

  Miles turned a scandalised stare at his mother. "We must be more alike than I thought."

  "How dare she?" Emily looked as though she didn't know whether to laugh or pout. "Poor eyesight and refuses to wear spectacles. There's nothing for it. I'll have to speak to her. Tell her to keep quiet."

  "How much trouble is she likely to be?" Briers asked.

  "She's the silliest creature," Emily said. "I first knew her as Cynthia Brown but she married one of the ffoulkes-Collinsons - one of the ones who had done very well in trade. He was killed in a Zeppelin raid, and since then she has been doing pretty much as she pleases. This Gervaise is a new one though; the last time I saw her she had the prettiest chorus boy in tow - Torquil something or another. And she was such a mousy little thing in school."

  "You were never in school with her?" Briers said. "Not unless you were in infants when she was a prefect."

  "You are shameless," Emily said, her severe tone at odds with her radiant face. "Completely and utterly shameless."