Having a Ball (24 page)

Stevie's heart was pounding. Bad enough she would be caught hiding in a
coat cupboard when she should be out there working, but she was hiding in there
with a man. Lady Beryl would have a fit. Hmm. One man in a black suit looked
pretty much like another from the back. And he was broad enough to hide her.

The handle turned. Stevie grabbed Tom by the lapels and swung him
round so that his back was to the door. Without pausing to think any further, she
threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

Light fell into the cupboard.

"Oh my goodness!" Lady Beryl made a strangled noise. "How perfectly
disgusting! I knew we shouldn't have sold tickets to just any old..." She slammed
the cupboard door shut, still talking.

But Stevie didn't hear any more. Because, after a moment of stunned
hesitation, Tom was kissing her back with an intensity that said he'd been wanting
to do so for a long time. His hands found her hips and pulled her closer. His mouth
opened against hers. He tasted slightly spicy and smelled delicious. Stevie melted
into his arms. Her fingers explored his curls, easing through the soft ringlets. She
felt Tom's hand move up to her face, a thumb stroked her cheek, making her feel
warm all over. She could be here like this, kissing him, for ever. He pulled her even
closer. She could feel his skin calling to hers through the layers of clothing. All other
thoughts emptied from her mind. All she could think of was how much she wanted
him.

Suddenly his phone rang. A second later, hers started vibrating madly at
her feet, where her bag had ended up.

Tom pulled away with a sigh. "I guess I should get that."

Stevie bowed her head against his chest and sighed. "Me too."

He kissed the top of her head, removed her arms from round his neck and
opened the door. Checking that there was no one outside, he stepped out,
answering the phone as he did so. "Mum. What's wrong?"

It took Stevie a second to recover her composure. Trying to push all
thoughts of the curtailed kiss out of her mind, she rooted in her bag until she found
the phone and answered it.

"Where are you?" Lady Beryl demanded.

"I hear you're looking for me, is something wrong?" Stevie pushed the
door open and used the light to locate her shoes. They pinched when she put them
back on.

"There are people fornicating in the coat cupboard." Beryl shrieked down
the phone.

Fornicating? If only... "Okay, I'll see what--"

"Never mind that," Lady Beryl snapped. "Come to the front room. This is
more important. The disco is getting really out of hand."

Oh dear. What could be more pressing than people fornicating in a
cupboard? Saying she'd be right there, she shot out of the cupboard, startling a
guest who was passing by.

Lady Beryl and Evelyn were standing outside the door to the disco. Lady
Beryl stopped talking when she saw Stevie. "What happened to you?"

Stevie realised her hair had come loose during Tom's embrace and was
slipping down on one side. "I wasn't looking where I was going... in the garden."
She hastily retied it. "What's the matter?"

Lady Beryl pointed dramatically at the door. "Have a look in there."

Stevie opened the door. The disco was going full swing. Dilan had his
head down and was swaying with the music as he merged one track into another.
The dance floor was a mêlée of coloured light. In the middle was Mr.
Farrier, dancing his heart out. His shirt was flapping open, revealing a hairy belly. A
small crowd of people were fanned around him, clapping and cheering him on. His
wife was dancing opposite him, just out of reach of his energetic limbs.

Stevie sidled up to Dilan, who removed one of his earphones so she could
shout in his ear. "How long has this been going on?"

"Isn't it great!" He shouted back. "They're all loving it. I'm going to have
bring the cheesy tunes playlist full circle to keep him going."

Stevie opened her mouth to protest, but shut it again. She looked at the
people on the dance floor. Most people were watching Mr. Farrier and laughing.
The man himself was concentrating hard on his dancing and his wife seemed to be
delighted with him. There didn't appear to be any immediate danger from anyone
to anyone. And they all seemed to be having fun. The businesslike side of Stevie
pointed out that if Mr. Farrier was having fun, he was less likely to think of suing
them afterwards.

Mr. Farrier made an expressive move with his hips, which would have
been lewd if his belly weren't bouncing along with it. His wife clapped her hands.
People cheered. Stevie sidled back out of the room.

Lady Beryl and Evelyn were waiting for her. "Well?" said Lady Beryl.

Stevie stared at her irate face. The vision of Mr. Farrier boogieing on
down flashed through her mind. A giggle rose in her throat and burst out before she
could stop it.

"Well, aren't you going to put a stop to it?"

Lady Beryl was so annoyed, it made Stevie laugh all the more. Evelyn's
mouth began to twitch. She opened the door and peeked in. Then she too began to
laugh. Soon the two of them were leaning against the wall, gasping for breath. Lady
Beryl made huffing noises.

"I'm sorry Lady Beryl," said Stevie wiping tears away from her eyes. "But
have you seen him? It's so
so
funny."

Lady Beryl seemed to deflate a little. She peered into the room. "Oh my
goodness." Her face was a picture of horror. "He's taken his shirt off and is twirling
it round his head!"

Stevie and Evelyn collapsed in more peals of laughter. After a moment,
Lady Beryl smiled. "I suppose it is rather funny," she conceded.

"Funny, oh Beryl, it's hilarious," said Evelyn. "I think I shall have to go
find a tissue." She looked at Stevie and laughed again. "Your makeup, dear."

Stevie took gulps of air, trying to get a lid on her mirth. "Right. I'd better
go fix it." She was breathing hard as giggles threatened to overwhelm her again. She
set off to find a bathroom, wiping her eyes and occasionally giggling.

Stevie had cleaned off her smudged mascara and got the giggles under
control by the time she ran into Tom again. He was frowning.

"What's up?" She thought of the last time she'd seen him and her arms
itched to wrap themselves around him again. She was back in professional mode
now, she told herself. Her hands curled into fists in order to resist the temptation to
touch him.

"I seem to have lost Alice. Mum was looking for her. I've searched
everywhere and I can't find her."

"Have you checked the cupboards?" Stevie bit her lip. That had come out
before she'd had time to censor it.

He gave her a sideways glance, his eyes twinkling. "Even the cupboards."
His expression went serious again. "The last time I saw her, she was heading off
with those girls. I'm worried they're up to something."

Now Stevie was worried too. Thinking back, she realized the girls had all
disappeared as soon as Pete left, which was some time ago now. "I'll help you look.
Where have you checked?"

Tom ran through the list of places he'd been. "That just leaves the family's
rooms and the basement rooms."

Stevie was likely to get lost if she tried to find Alice's room, so she
suggested she took the basement while Tom ran up to the residential rooms.

The basement consisted of a number of small rooms that were used as
storerooms, offices and one downstairs reading room. As Stevie descended the
stairs, she heard voices. Oh good. They were here. She felt a wave of relief. If they'd
left the house to go clubbing, finding them would have been next to
impossible.

She followed the voices to one of the rooms and opened the door. The
curtains had been drawn and the girls were sitting on the floor. The room was
illuminated by candles, set in saucers and dangerously close to the shelves of
paperbacks. All four girls looked up. Stevie flicked on the main light.

"What's going on?" Her eyes took in the girls' appearance. They seemed
slightly glazed and were slow to react. They were drunk.

The open candle flames danced.

They were drunk and had put the house at risk.

Anger flared in Stevie. "Well?"

"None of your business," snapped Veronica.

Stevie ignored her. "Alice, get those candles out. They could set fire to the
books." She strode in and began pinching the candles off, one by one.

"Hey!" Veronica stood up, unsteadily. "Who are you to come in
here--"

"I," said Stevie, "am a very angry adult." As she neared the girl she
smelled alcohol. She looked around until she saw a nearly empty bottle. She and
Veronica both made a dive for it, but Stevie was faster. She sniffed. "Vodka?"

So that was what had been in Veronica's big bag. She should have
checked it. If these girls had drunk a full bottle of this stuff among them, they were
likely to be very drunk indeed. It was a miracle that none of them had been sick
already.

"Right. I'm confiscating this. Alice, is there a kitchen other than the big
one upstairs where you can sit and have coffee?"

Alice shook her head.

"We don't want to have coffee," Veronica said. The other two girls stood
up and the three of them stood in front of her, their manner threatening. "Why
don't you bugger off and leave us to have fun."

"Yeah," Alice piped up. She was still on the floor.

"Because this house has an alcohol licence. If you are found here, drunk,
we may lose that licence.
And
," she added as one of them opened her mouth,
"you could have burned the whole place down with those damned candles."

Veronica laughed. "Nah. That only happens in the movies."

"You know that for a fact do you? Or did you think you'd try it out in
someone else's house?" Stevie pulled out her phone and called Tom, trying not to
take her eyes off the girls the whole time.

"We're in the basement," she said. "They're drunk. Come down here.
Don't tell Evelyn."

Alice sniffed. "Gran's going to kill me."

"You should have thought of that beforehand." Stevie held out a hand and
hauled her to her feet. "Right, you lot. I'm getting some coffee down you and
sobering you up."

"No you're not."

"Yes. I am. Now come with me."

The girls didn't move.

"Make me." Veronica smirked.

Stevie was now so angry that she was starting to shake with it. She
stepped up so that she was face to face with the teenager. She growled, "Any more
lip from you and I will take you down to the police station to be sobered up in their
cells."

"You don't know my real name," Veronica sneered back, but there was a
hint of uncertainty in her voice now.

"I don't need to," said Stevie. "That's for the police to find out."

"You wouldn't
dare
."

Stevie brought her face closer and looked into her eyes. "Try me." They
glared at each other for a moment, each trying to call the other's bluff.

Veronica's gaze faltered and Stevie knew she'd won.

One of the other girls said, "I feel sick."

Stevie grabbed a nearby potpourri bowl, tipped its contents on the floor
and shoved it under the girl's face, just as the vomit arced out of her mouth. All the
others took a step back. The smell, interlaced with that of the displaced potpourri
filled the room. The girls were all starting to look pale.

Tom appeared and took in the scene. "Shit."

"Tom, get some coffee into them. And some toast if they can take it. You,"
she said to the girl who was retching over the now full bowl. "Come with me."

Stevie took her to the nearest bathroom and waited while she threw up
some more. Afterward she helped her clean her face up, splashing it liberally with
cold water, and took her, via the outdoor courtyard, to the kitchen.

Tom was giving the other girls coffee and water. Alice was huddled in a
chair at the far end, sobbing. Veronica and the other girl were making cow eyes at
him.

Stevie felt another wave of anger. She also felt curiously responsible for
all of them. Especially Alice. She suddenly wondered if this was how Marsh felt
when he'd found her stoned in Tom's room. No wonder he went mental.

"Feel better now?" she asked the girl who had been sick.

The girl nodded. She was staring blankly at the mug that Tom had placed
in front of her.

There was a moment of silence as everyone avoided eye contact. Tom
poured Stevie a coffee and placed it in front of her.

"Now then, Veronica, or whatever your name is," said Stevie. "Where
were you planning to stay tonight?"

Veronica just sat there.

"Well?"

"We're taking the bus back to London," Veronica muttered.

"And your parents are okay with you wandering around London at three
in the morning?"

More silence. The other two girls stared at Veronica, who didn't
flinch.

Stevie sighed. "Let me guess. You two have told your parents that you're
staying with her." She pointed to Veronica. "And her parents are either away, or
don't care."

Veronica said nothing, but the guilty looks from the other two confirmed
she was right.

Stevie sent a silent question to Tom. He moved his head, indicating that
they should go to the other end of the kitchen.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered.

"Put them on the bus," said Tom. "They look to be around sixteen. There
are three of them. They'll be more or less sober by the time that coffee kicks in.
Although I think your threatening to take them to the police sobered them up
pretty well."

"But they're just kids!"

"Not really. We can see them onto the bus. If you like, you can give them
money for a taxi at the other end."

"What if they get off at an earlier stop?"

"There isn't an earlier stop. It's a direct bus."

Stevie considered the trio. Veronica seemed to be recovering her
bravado, but the other two were well and truly subdued.