Phoebe shrugged. “Frederick is quite capable of looking after himself. In any case, if I were to wager on his whereabouts, I would say that he is at this moment downing a glass of your best brandy.”
“And forgotten about his medals?”
“A good brandy can make him forget everything.” She paused, then leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I wouldn’t tell this to another soul, but the truth is I sold the medals two years ago to a collector. He offered me a very good price for them.”
Shocked, Cecily stared at her. “Phoebe! The colonel’s medals? How could you?”
“We needed the money. Besides, he never wore them. He barely ever mentioned them. Today was the first time in at least a year or so. I didn’t think he would miss them.” She looked worried. “You won’t tell him, will you? If he thinks we donated them for a good cause, he’ll be much less likely to be upset about losing them.”
“Of course I won’t say anything.” Cecily shook her head. “I just hope he never finds out. He’ll never forgive you.”
“Oh, poop. Frederick never remembers anything longer than a few minutes.”
She didn’t sound too convincing, and Cecily hoped for her friend’s sake that the colonel never discovered the truth. Deciding to change the subject, she asked, “You mentioned children flying across the stage in your pantomime. I hope you didn’t mean that literally.”
Phoebe beamed. “Of course I did. I intend to ask Gertie if her twins would like to appear in the presentation, and several of the village children are eager to perform. My dance group will be on hand, of course. Deirdre is playing Peter Pan and Mabel is taking the role of Wendy.” Phoebe clasped her hands. “This is going to be the most spectacular event I have ever presented.”
Cecily was inclined to agree. Especially if the hefty Mabel hadn’t lost any weight during the last twelve months. It was a trifle hard to visualize a pudgy Wendy, not to mention the problem of heaving that much weight around on a wire. Cecily’s greatest concern, however, was for the children. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, using children on a wire? That could be quite dangerous.”
“I have complete faith in Clive.” Phoebe straightened her hat with a little tug that dislodged a hat pin. Tutting, she picked it up off the table and stuck it back in her hat. “He’s very good at building things, and he’s assured me that the wiring will be completely safe.”
Cecily privately vowed to have a word with her maintenance man before she allowed such risky maneuvers on her stage. “Isn’t there another pantomime you’d rather do?” she asked hopefully. “Perhaps one that doesn’t present such difficult construction?”
“We have already done most of the popular ones. Besides, I have wanted to do Peter Pan for years, but until I talked to Clive I didn’t think we were capable of doing it.” Phoebe tilted her head to one side, putting her hat at great peril. “He is a most unusual man. Very well educated for a janitor.”
“Quite so. I just hope he has the knowledge for this undertaking.”
“You worry too much, Cecily.” Phoebe patted her arm. “We will take care of everything. You can just sit back on the night of the pantomime and enjoy the spectacle.”
Cecily rather doubted that, though she refrained from voicing any more concerns. This was something she would take up with Clive, as soon as possible. Now, however, she had other pressing engagements. “I’m sure I will.” She placed her serviette on the table and rose to her feet. “I’m sorry to put an end to this delightful conversation, Phoebe, but I have an appointment this afternoon.”
“Oh, of course.” Phoebe got up slowly, mindful of her hat rocking on her head. “I see that Madeline hasn’t started the decorating for Christmas. Rather late, isn’t she? Or is she not participating this year?”
“Madeline has promised to start work on them tomorrow.” Cecily led the way to the door, speaking over her shoulder. “She has been occupied with the baby, who has been quite poorly lately.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Phoebe caught up with her in the corridor. “I do hope little Angelina feels better soon.”
“I understand she’s recovering nicely.” Cecily caught sight of Samuel waiting for her in the lobby and raised her hand at him. “When will you begin rehearsals, then?”
“As soon as Clive has the stage set.” Phoebe peered down the hallway leading to the bar. “I had better find my husband while he can still walk home.” She waved a gloved hand at Cecily and scurried off.
Samuel waited for Cecily to cross the lobby before approaching her. “I have the carriage ready, m’m,” he said, as he reached her.
“Good. Then let’s make haste. I would like to be back here before it grows dark.”
“Yes, m’m.”
Samuel opened the door for her and she marched outside, all her thoughts now on the coming conversation with Basil Baker.
CHAPTER 5
Gertie hummed to herself as she climbed the stairs to the third floor. It was her responsibility to inspect the bedrooms and make sure that the beds had been made, the chamber pots emptied, the furniture dusted, and the windows opened to air out the rooms.
It was a task she enjoyed. She had too many memories of when she had to do all those things herself, and it felt good to just sail from room to room, looking things over, instead of slaving away at the jobs herself.
The Christmas season was always a good time at the Pennyfoot. Lots of things to look forward to, all the lovely smells of sugar, herbs, and spices coming from the kitchen, and Mrs. Prestwick’s decorations making everything look colorful and bright.
She was still thinking about the decorations as she hurried down the stairs, and almost bumped into Phoebe Fortescue, who was hovering at the bottom.
“Oh, there you are!”
The woman looked a little agitated, and Gertie wondered what she’d done wrong. “S’cuse me, m’m? Is there something I can do for you?”
“Oh, I do hope so.” Phoebe looked around the empty lobby, and leaned forward. “I badly need children for the Peter Pan pantomime. I was wondering if your twins would like to be part of it. It would be a wonderful experience for them.”
Gertie hesitated. James wasn’t known for his patience and had trouble concentrating on anything for any length of time. As for Lillian, she was a bit of a crybaby, and would run away from anything that could upset her. “I dunno,” Gertie said slowly. “I don’t know how they’d behave.”
“I’m sure they would behave beautifully.” Phoebe clasped her hands. “I’ll have lots of people around to make sure they do what they’re supposed to do. I know they would have lots of fun, and think of the pride you’d feel, seeing them up on the stage in one of my famous presentations.”
Gertie frowned. She didn’t know about pride. More like worry, considering how Mrs. Fortescue’s events never went without something awful happening. “I’d have to ask them,” she said at last. “If they want to do it, then I’ll allow it, but I wouldn’t want to force them into doing something they don’t want to do.”
“No, no, of course not.” Phoebe looked relieved. “Ah… would you mind if I did the asking? They might consider it more if I’m the one to ask them.”
Gertie wasn’t fooled for a moment. No doubt Mrs. Fortescue would make it sound like a grand adventure, possibly even bribing them with promises of a reward of some kind. “I’d rather ask them myself, m’m, if you don’t mind.”
Phoebe looked disappointed. “Very well, then. Just be sure to tell them what a tremendously exciting experience this would be for them.”