Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“Nah,” he said. “I’m not drunk, just wise. Or maybe stupid. One or the other.”
It was me who took hold of the conversation, the prickles coming back to me as I met his gaze.
“Who barred everyone, George?”
He looked right back at me, then rolled his eyes.
“You know who. Don’t pretend you don’t.”
Eliza shot daggers at me.
“Did you know anything about this, Katherine?”
“No!” I said. “I don’t know what George is talking about.”
George cackled some more. A guy in his 80s, laughing so hard he was leaning on the bar to stay upright.
“Honestly!” I insisted to Eliza. “I know nothing more than you do.”
“Hmm,” she said, obviously suspicious. “I’ll head on out the back and make a call to the management myself to be sure.”
I almost asked her to stay, the prickles were so bad, but she probably wouldn’t have heeded my request if I had. She paced away with her arms swinging, and I stayed mute, still reeling from the situation as much as she was.
George was staring at me. He stopped laughing as soon as she was out of view, and beckoned me over. I did as I was told and stepped up close.
His eyes were beady and dark. Not the guy I’d come to know at all. He seemed older than his 80s, skin drawn and pale, like he was made-up for Halloween and not for the Regency club, without the costume. His words were a whisper.
“Do you want to see him?” he asked me.
“Who?” I replied, and he laughed again, just a little.
“You know who. Stop playing dumb.”
I felt static in the air, senses tingling. I knew exactly who he meant, even though it felt like I was in a world gone crazy. I wanted to pinch myself to make sure this wasn’t another dream gone wild.
“Answer me,” he said. “The clock is ticking. Tick tock.”
I should have said no. I could hear both my mum and grandma in my head, demanding I stop being a stupid girl and get some common sense into me, but I was on autopilot, unable to deny the truth.
“Yes,” I told George. “I want to see him.”
“Excellent,” he said.
He clicked his fingers, and all at once the front door opened and a big crowd of members came bustling inside.
Max and Stephan and the gang stepped in first, in suits this time, not costumes. Richard Scott, and Baron Taylor, and the Westminster trio close behind them. Mr Kelly, and Edward Warren, and Killian, and Cedric Quentin, too. And then finally, bringing up the rear, were Benjamin and Frederick.
…And Hans Jacob Weyer to follow.
My heart leapt and it was like a switch had been flicked, the bar back to life just the same as it would usually be. People took their regular seats and spoke in their regular voices, and George looked like George again, sipping on his whisky.
Eliza came dashing back in at the sound of clients, looking at surprised as I was, but she hid it better. She put on her smile and got to service, supplying people with beverages as quickly as she could.
I felt like an idiot struggling alongside her. My hands were jittery, making me a clumsy clutz as I tried to pass myself off as normal.
I served the Westminster trio first, and then Edward, Killian and Cedric, but I was burning up like a beacon as Hans took a seat at the bar alongside Frederick, just a few seats down from George.
I couldn’t look at him.
I couldn’t dare face him.
I kept on serving and smiling, with a rush of crazy, silent gratitude as Eliza handled their orders instead of me.
The rush at the bar died down after a few long minutes, but still I kept my distance from the men at the end, glad when Eliza beckoned me over with a grin on her face.
“You were right, there was a polo match. The coach just got back in from Cirencester. It was quite a day of it.”
“Who told you that?” I asked her.
“Baron Taylor,” she replied. “He was telling me what a good match it was. The Wesleydales won.”
I knew little about polo games, apart from the fact that the players rode on horses, but I smiled like I was pleased at the news.
“Excellent. That explains it, then.”
“Yes,” she said. “Thank God for that. I thought we were facing some kind of management crisis, or some Halloween terror had cursed our club!”
I laughed too loudly, but she didn’t seem to notice it was fake.
“I’ll handle the lounge,” she told me. “Stay here and take care of the bar.”
I did as I was told. I cut up lemon after lemon and stocked the ice trays back to full. I cleaned down the sides, and cut up yet more lemons, and the whole time I was as flushed and tingly as I could be.