“I am flattered that one so young and beautiful should grace my humble home,” she said. “May I introduce my son, Peregrine.”
Daisy reflected that Peregrine looked like a stage-door Johnny. He had thick black hair, well-oiled, and a thick luxuriant black moustache. His waistcoat was a violent affair of red and gold silk.
Rose and Daisy moved on into the dining-room. “Rabbit food,” hissed Daisy.
They helped themselves to nut cutlets and salad. There was no wine, simply jugs of water.
Daisy and Rose sat down at a table. “It’s quite tasty but they might at least have served the nut cutlets hot,” complained Rose. “And this house is abominably cold.” She signalled to Humphrey and asked her to fetch her fur coat from the ante-room where they had left their outer wrappings. “Miss Levine’s coat as well.”
Humphrey glared at Daisy and then went off, returning shortly with their coats.
“That’s better,” said Rose. “I think we should hear what the lecture is about and then talk to Mrs Stockton afterwards. We cannot ask her outright about the ten thousand pounds or she will ask how we came by our information. But we can get to know her and find out if there is anything about her, any weakness, that would cause her to be blackmailed.”
“You could get close to that son of hers easily enough,” said Daisy. “He’s leering at you across the room.”
“I don’t think I could bear it.” Rose speared a lettuce leaf and looked at it gloomily. “I am going to be quite hungry after this. Did you see any bread?”
“Not a bit.”
“Then it’s more nut cutlets, I’m afraid. Oh, look, they are serving coffee and tea at that other table.”
They helped themselves to more cutlets, but found that the tea was camomile and the coffee, dandelion.
“I’m sure it’s all very healthy,” mourned Daisy. “What I’d give for a pint of beer and a meat pie.”
At last they were summoned to the lecture, which was to take place in a drawing-room on the first floor.
“Who is Rudolf Steiner anyway?” asked Daisy as they took their seats.
“I asked Jarvis this morning. Pa’s secretary is a fund of knowledge. He said that Steiner is an occult philosopher.”
“Occult? Witches and warlocks?”
“No, something to do with the world of the spirit.”
Mrs Stockton stood on a stage which had been erected at the end of the room. “My lord, ladies and gentlemen,” she began. “As you know, like Mr Steiner, we are all dedicated vegetarians. Meat corrupts the body and banishes us from the world of the spirit.
“As our great teacher said, ‘The soul which gives itself over to the inner illumination recognizes in itself not only what it was before the illumination; it also recognizes what it has become only through this illumination.’”
“What does that mean?” whispered Daisy.
“Blessed if I know,” said Rose, burrowing deeper into her furs.
Despite the warmth provided by the fur coat given to her by Rose, Daisy could feel the tip of her nose turning pink and her feet were like two blocks of ice.
Mrs Stockton’s words drifted in and out of her brain. “‘No one is hindered from making fruitful in the natural and social realms that which is brought over from the wellspring of spiritual life by those who have the right to speak of the principle of initiation,’ so speaks the master.”
Then Daisy began to become uneasily aware of gas building up under her stays. She realized she would need to get out of the room before she delivered herself of what her family in the East End would call a ‘real knicker ripper’.
She murmured an excuse and edged out of the room, trying to walk and keep her buttocks firmly clenched at the same time.
Daisy went down the stairs and stood in the hall, but before she could relieve herself of gas, an arm went round her waist and a voice in her ear said, “Looking for me, my pretty?”
She swung round and found Peregrine Stockton smiling down at her and twisting his moustache like a stage villain.
“I needed some air,” said Daisy. Her eyes, which were green and slightly prominent, felt as if they would burst from their sockets and roll across the floor like two marbles.
“What about a kiss for a poor chap?”
He tried to slide his arm around her waist again, but Daisy backed off and then exploded. A loud sound like a raspberry echoed around the hall and Daisy stood there with her face flaming.
“Hem, well, jolly cold day, what,” he said, backing away. “Get back to hear Mother’s lecture, what.”
He darted off up the stairs. Daisy was scarlet with mortification. Her first day out as a companion in all her grand clothes and she had disgraced herself. She trailed miserably back up the stairs. But the first thing that struck her when she entered the drawing-room was that she was far from being the only sufferer. The effect of nut cutlets and raw vegetables on so many middle-aged and elderly digestive systems was taking its toll.
She joined Rose, who was sitting with a scented handkerchief pressed to her nose.
“There’s an awful smell in here. What is it?” whispered Rose.
“Essence of fart,” whispered Daisy. “It was them nut cutlets.”
“Daisy, you must not use these crude Anglo-Saxon words.”
“What should I have said?”
“Shhh, I’ll tell you afterwards.”
Mrs Stockton was now lecturing her audience on the benefits of vegetarianism. Then she asked for questions. One middle-aged man who looked fit and healthy, certainly compared with the others about him, rose to his feet. “I am a vegetarian,” he said. “But I think people should be told that there are many attractive and hot vegetarian dishes which are just as good as meat. Eating too many raw vegetables can be upsetting to the stomach.” A sudden volley like gunshot from the ladies behind him interrupted his speech. Daisy emulated Rose, and pressed a handkerchief to her nose. The gentleman tried to go on, but his face suddenly creased up with laughter. He tried to control himself but a great guffaw burst from his lips.
“The lecture is finished,” shouted Mrs Stockton. There was a polite smattering of applause.
Mrs Stockton then positioned herself at the door of the drawing-room to say goodbye to her guests.
Rose shook her hand and said, “I wonder if I might consult you. I am very interested in vegetarianism.”
“Indeed?” Mrs Stockton gave a gratified smile. “If you would care to wait until I say goodbye to everyone, then we can have a cosy chat.”
Rose and Daisy retreated back into the drawing-room. At last Mrs Stockton begged them to follow her to her study.
“You may wait here for us, Humphrey,” ordered Rose.
Mrs Stockton led them across the landing and into a room where the walls were draped in black velvet and a scented candle burnt on a table, also draped in black.
“Now, where shall I begin?” she began brightly.
A butler entered with a card on a tray. “A Captain Cathcart to see you, madam.”
“You must tell him I am otherwise engaged.”
“The gentleman said it would only take a few minutes.”
“What can he want? Oh, do show him up.” She smiled at Rose. “Another of my admirers, no doubt, but I confess I cannot quite place the name.”
“Captain Cathcart,” said Rose, “is a private investigator.”
“Oh dear, how common. I must get rid of him immediately.” She reached out to ring the bell, but at that moment Harry was ushered into the room.
“I should not have allowed you to come up,” said Mrs Stockton. “I do not entertain persons.”
Just one question,” said Harry. “Good afternoon, Lady Rose, Miss Levine. Mrs Stockton, was Mr Pomfret blackmailing you?