‘Of course, sir. He has mentioned you.’
Luke lowered his head confidentially. ‘Um . . . not sure if he’ll have mentioned it, but it’s a bit of a no-no as far as alcohol is concerned. Well, so Jane thinks, of course.’
‘Say no more, I understand perfectly.’
‘I thought perhaps you could stick something clear in a long glass and call it lemonade.’
‘Such as?’
‘Anything. I don’t care. Just as long as it gets past Jane the Gaoler.’
Jane, meanwhile, was bimbling around a maze of corridors. Lost while looking for the loo, would be her explanation. There were several closed doors behind which she could hear chatter, laughter, music, and once, the clatter of what she thought might be a roulette wheel.
Thick carpet and expensive curtains rendered the corridors soundless. Jane assumed the slightly desperate expression of one who can’t find the Ladies and meandered slowly from door to door. As far as she could make out, there were two or three bars of differing sizes and intimacy, and a restaurant, from which she could hear the hum of conversation and the clatter of crockery. A pair of large double doors denoted the Entertainment Room – whatever that was.
Eventually, Jane ran out of corridor. Two large swing doors marked Private lay ahead. Even as she stared, they swung open and a waiter appeared.
‘Can I help you, madam?’
Jane fluttered. Officer North had once told her to play to her strengths and fluttering was definitely one of those. ‘He said it was on the left,’ she said, infusing just a tiny note of panic into her voice, ‘but it’s not.’
‘Ah. You’ve come too far. Just down here.’
He escorted her to the door clearly labelled Ladies.
Jane fluttered a little more. ‘Oh. Um . . . thank you.’
‘My pleasure.’
Given everything she’d anticipated, Jane was somewhat disappointed to find the restroom empty. No one was snorting anything white and sinister through rolled up banknotes. All the cubicle doors were ajar and no one was engaging in anything . . . unusual. She sighed. There was a whole sex, drugs and rock and roll revolution going on out there and all of it had passed her by completely. She tried not to feel disappointed. Not that she wanted . . . obviously . . . but the opportunity to decline the opportunity would have been good.
She stared at herself in the mirror, saw what Luke had meant about her hair and dragged out a comb. She also took the opportunity once again to anoint herself with all the free products on offer and set off to find Luke, preceded by a cloud of fragrance that was very nearly tangible.
Luke and Mr Geoffrey had obviously bonded in her absence. They stood together, laughing at something. Almost certainly me, she thought. As she approached, she heard Mr Geoffrey say, ‘Yes, she is rather sweet, isn’t she?’
Jane’s bright smile never faltered for one moment.
‘Proud of you, sweetie,’ whispered Luke in her ear as they followed Mr Geoffrey into the restaurant. ‘I was worried Mrs Knee might be making the acquaintance of Mr Todger again.’
‘Oh, no,’ she said quietly. She patted his arm, reassuringly. ‘But one night . . . and you’ll never know when that night will come . . . I will smother you in your sleep.’
‘Eh?’
But Mr Geoffrey was showing them into the restaurant.
For someone supposedly on lemonade, Luke was enjoying himself enormously. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes sparkled. As the meal progressed, and ignoring Jane’s mounting discomfort, his voice became louder and louder.
Jane leaned across the table. ‘For heaven’s sake, Luke, how am I not supposed to notice you’re as drunk as a newt?’
‘As a what?’
‘Newt.’
He wagged a finger. ‘Jane – pay more attention to the world around you. The expression is either drunk as a skunk or pissed as a newt. Pick one and go with it.’
‘How am I supposed to get you home?’
‘Dunno, but I’m really looking forward to seeing you try.’
‘How do I know you won’t throw up all over the boat?’
‘You don’t. And I probably will. I’ve got form in that area. You’re in for an embarrassing ride home, Jane. Unless, of course . . .’
He winked heavily across the table.
Jane held his gaze, filled with misgivings. Was this handsome, charming Luke Parrish looking for another notch on his bedpost? Or was this Officer Parrish playing his part to the best of his considerable ability? There really was no way to tell. She should give him the benefit of the doubt.
She scowled. ‘Unless what? Unless I walk off and leave you here to fall in the river and drown? Because trust me, I don’t think I’m going to be able to resist the temptation. In fact, I might even throw you in myself.’
‘If I might be allowed to insinuate myself, I wonder if I might offer up a solution to this . . . er . . . dilemma.’ Mr Geoffrey was back. Heroically, Jane’s flesh refrained from creeping.
‘Perhaps you may not be aware, but we are residential. I am certain we could provide appropriate accommodation.’
‘You hear that, Jane? They’re residential. Solves all your problems. Not mine, of course, because I don’t have any. Problems, that is. Yes, we’ll have a room, please.’
‘Two rooms,’ said Jane swiftly.
‘Jane, Jane, Jane,’ he said, swaying slightly as he smiled down at her in what he probably imagined was a winning way. ‘You know you don’t mean that.’
Jane smiled back and fluttered her eyelashes. ‘He’s right, Mr Geoffrey. Just the one room, please. And a sleeping bag in the garden for Mr Parrish here.’
Mr Geoffrey smiled whitely. ‘I shall arrange your rooms immediately,’ and oozed from the room.
Luke lifted his glass in a defiant toast. ‘Nice one, Jane.’
Jane was not entirely surprised when Luke didn’t appear for breakfast the next morning. She found herself a quiet table and, secure in the knowledge that whoever was paying for this, it wouldn’t be her, proceeded to breakfast heartily.
There was no sign of the gelatinous Mr Geoffrey, either.
Finishing her breakfast – scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, sourdough toast, fresh fruit and yoghurt, all washed down with the best coffee she’d ever tasted – and armed with her complimentary newspaper, Jane retired to the sunny garden and prepared to enjoy a Parrish-free morning. She told herself she was very fond of Luke, but there was no doubt he could be an unexpected item in the bagging area of life. Occasionally a passing waiter would refill her coffee cup, but otherwise she was content just to watch the river go by and enjoy a rare moment of peace. There hadn’t been many of those since she’d joined the Time Police.