Page 50 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

‘Crooky! That’s me,’ Crooks said. He’d never had a friend before. He’d been an only child, an outsider at school, had gone into service so young there had never been the chance to make a friend. It seemed a blessed thing to have a nickname. ‘Crooky!’ he shouted.

‘Crooky!’ they bellowed back. They were all beaming at him. His face felt like a full moon, round and smiling and warm. But not silvery. Red, it was. Red and smiling.

Speen put his arm round his shoulders. ‘Enjoying yourself?’

‘I am,’ said Crooks, eagerly. Someone put another pint glass in front of him. ‘But got to go to the – to the—’ He didn’t know what it might be called here. He leaned in to Speen and whispered, or thought he whispered ‘—privy!’

‘Out the back. Turn left out of the door. Here, I’ll go with you – you might get lost.’

‘Kind of you,’ Crooks said when he had got to his feet and found his balance. ‘Kind.’

Speen’s arm was round his shoulders again. ‘That’s what friends are for. And we’re not finished yet, Crooky. The night is still young.’

‘Like a precious jewel,’ Crooks agreed solemnly.

It seemed a long way to the privy and a longer way back, and after the darkness out in the yard the light and noise and smoke hit him hard. He reeled, and might have fallen if Speen hadn’t been there. Reaching the table again, he saw to his surprise that there were women among the footmen.

‘Here, Studs, give Crooky your chair. He’s older and grander than you,’ Speen commanded. Somehow Crooks found himself sitting at the near side of the table, Speen next to him, but the chairs had been turned outward to face the room. And there were two women, young women in evening dress – at least, they were showing a lot of décolletage, and they seemed young, with the red lips and red cheeks of youth. One of them sat on Speen’s lap. Crooks stared owlishly at the phenomenon. Speen grasped Crooks’s shoulder and shook it gently. ‘Not falling asleep, Crooky? Here, this one’s Susie, and she’s all yours. Enjoy yourself! You only live once!’

To Crooks’s immense surprise, the second young woman plonked herself down on his lap, put her arms round his neck, and said, ‘What’s your name, love? Can’t call you Crooky!’

Round, soft bosoms were pressing against him – his nose was practically in the cleft. He smelt perfume, and powder, and behind it, a whiff of sweat. She jiggled softly on his lap, and said, to his bewilderment, ‘Hullo, hullo! What you got in your pocket? Oh, you’re a card all right, Crooky! It’s always the quiet ones you got to watch!’

Suddenly the red lips were pressed down on his, and he tasted waxy lip paint and brandy. Bosoms, red lips, cheap scent, bare arms round his neck, insinuating words … One of her arms left his neck and her hand was sliding into his lap, fumbling about … He panicked. He couldn’t breathe. He pushed her back, gasping. Next to him, Speen was fully engaged with the other woman, their faces joined together and making a noise like a carthorse freeing its hoof from thick mud. And Speen’s hand was deliberately rucking up the woman’s skirt, exposing her ankle, her leg …

‘Oh, no, no, no!’ Crooks cried.

‘What’s up, love?’ Susie asked with mild concern.

‘I can’t! No, really, I can’t! Please, please don’t!’ He pushed at her increasingly wildly. ‘Please get off! Get off me!’

She pulled herself to her feet, annoyed. ‘Well, pardon me, I’m sure! I know when I’m not wanted! Here, Eddy, you got a right friend here! Thanks for nothing!’

Speen had emerged from his lady-friend’s face in time to witness her dismissal. He sighed. ‘What’s up, Crooky? Don’t you like girls?’

Crooks stood up, shock having sobered him enough to be able to stand without swaying too much. ‘My life,’ he said. ‘My whole life has been dedicated to beauty. To order, to elegance. Not – not this!’

Speen’s lady-friend was not pleased. ‘Who are you calling “this”? Are you saying we ain’t elegant?’

Speen didn’t seem too put out. ‘Never mind him, love. He’s a bit of a choir boy. I’d better get him home.’ He pushed the girl off his lap, and slapped her rump. ‘Don’t go anywhere. It’ll only take half an hour, then I’ll be back.’

‘What about me?’ Susie complained.

Speen winked. ‘I’ll take on both of yer. Stay right here, ladies, I’ll be back.’ He took Crooks’s arm just above the elbow. ‘Come on, then, my old pal.’

‘I don’t need help. I can make my own way,’ Crooks said, pulling free.

Speen examined him, judging his condition. ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to leave the party. Know the way, do you?’

‘Certainly,’ said Crooks. And then misgave: Speen had been trying to be nice to him, trying to give him a good time. His tastes might be horribly low, but he had meant well. ‘Thank you,’ he said, pulled himself up straight, and departed with a dignity that was only slightly marred by stumbling over the doorstep onto the street and having to grab a stranger to keep himself upright.

CHAPTER TEN

It was a fine May night, and Richard and Giles had decided to walk home from the ball at the Uppinghams’ mansion in Bedford Square. Giles had said he needed the fresh air, and Richard had gone along with it. He wasn’t a bit tired. At the ball, he had put his ‘foursome’ scheme into action by engaging the attention of the two American heiresses, who seemed in any case to like to stick together. It had worked very well, he thought. Through his expert manoeuvrings they had taken them into supper and, by managing to occupy the end of one of the tables, had been able to engage them in conversation without too much distraction.

‘So which did you like better?’ he asked. ‘For my money, Van Dycke is slightly the prettier, though there’s not much in it, but from all accounts the Brevoorte fortune is larger. They’re both nice girls.’ His brother had not said anything. ‘Giles? Which did you prefer?’

Giles came out of a reverie. ‘Isn’t the question rather, which of them preferred me? As far as I could tell, it was neither. They both liked you better.’