I further recalled that the arrangement had been that a servant would make a signal from an upstairs window on behalf of Lady M-when the message arrived. Clearly Lady M-had one trusted confidante among her staff. Unless she had mistakenly relied on one of the two denuded maids in the basement, this was a certain argument for at least one further domestic somewhere in the house.
At the top of the stairs I looked round cautiously. All was clear. I moved into the hallway. There was no sound. At the front of the house were doors to the left and the right. One would be the drawing room in which I might hope to find Lady M-. I looked into the room on the right. It was a dining room and empty of people although a cold meal of substantial proportions was laid out on the side. I thought again.
The signs suggested that this was cook's night off. This would account for the cold cuts that had been left. At least that was one less unwelcome surprise in waiting. However the quantity of food made it plain that guests were expected. I would have to hurry. I looked into the other room. The drawing room. Then I breathed a sigh of relief. Over by the window was Lady M-. She was alone, looking thoughtfully out into the street.
I entered and coughed. Lady M- turned round.
'What is it-' she began. Then she looked more closely at me and started back.
'Who are you?' she said imperiously. 'Where is Esther?'
'Don't be alarmed, Lady M-' I said, it is I, Andrew Scott, Mr. Holmes' assistant.'
'Good God!' she said. 'You gave me a terrible start. Why on earth are you dressed like that?'
I began to explain as well as I could. However I was barely halfway through the story when to my horror a door at the far end of the room opened and there stood the well-dressed stranger. 'Ah, Dear Lady,' he said, addressing himself to Lady M-. 'I think I have found the papers that your husband asked me to collect, so my business is completed.'
He looked in my direction. Luckily he seemed not to notice anything untoward about my appearance. Then he looked back towards Lady M — , plainly waiting for her to react to his statement.
'Ah, er, Hetty,' she said to me, at the same time screwing up her face and generally making it clear to me that I would have to act out my part for the moment. 'Hetty, would you serve drinks?' Then she walked over to me and said in a low voice, 'I've no idea what is going on. The butler's pantry is at the foot of the stairs. You will have to carry out Esther's duties.'
Downstairs, no-one was to be seen and there was no time to go looking for Holmes and Megan and find out what they were doing. I returned with glasses and a decanter of what looked like sherry. Lady M-was in deep conversation with the stranger.
'Put them down over there, Hetty,' she said.
I did as I was bid and withdrew. I must own to the fact that I was becoming considerably hot and bothered. As I stood in the hall wondering what to do next, to my alarm there was a ring at the front door.
'Answer it will you, Hetty,' Lady M-called out. 'John has the evening off and Esther is busy upstairs.' At least she had managed to pass on much-needed information about the disposition of the other members of the household. Nonetheless I had been placed in the awkward position of having to cope with whoever was on the steps outside. With lowered eyes and ready to bob demurely, I opened the front door.
Two women stood there, dressed in the height of fashion.
'The Honourable Gwendolen Fairfax and Miss Cecily Cardew,' said a familiar voice. 'Lady M-is expecting us.'
I leaped backwards in surprise. Gwendolen and Cecily! Two of my dearest and most intimate friends.
'What is it, girl?' said Cecily sharply. 'You look as though you've seen a ghost.'
'It's Andrew,' I hissed, knowing that I could not escape recognition and hoping to get the surprise over with there and then without any exclamations that would draw attention to us. 'It's me-' Unfortunately I was so overcome by the surprise of our encounter that I choked and began to cough.
'What!' said Gwendolen. Then she looked at me carefully. Her eyes widened with amazement.
'It can't be! Stop coughing and stand up straight so we can get a good look at you.'
My eyes streaming, I spluttered, it is, but for Heaven's Sake, keep your voices down.'
'Well, it could be him,' murmured Cecily sweetly to her companion. 'But it's hard to tell in this light and him dressed up like that.'
In desperation, knowing that I had only seconds to make the situation clear to them, I recalled the one thing that was most likely to convince them that I was in fact Andrew. Abruptly I pulled up my dress. Underneath, of course, I had nothing on. Like a faithful hound responding to its master, my cock leaped into sight. Cecily and Gwendolen both let out simultaneous cries of recognition.
'It is him,' said Cecily, 'I'd recognise that Thing anywhere.'
'True, Cecily,' said Gwendolen. She looked carefully at me. 'I did not know that you numbered dressing up in women's clothes among your interests.' She walked up to me, took my engorged prick in her hand and looked back at Cecily. 'Who could overlook something like that,' she said. She began to rub her hand up and down the charged length of my member. 'And to think that we believed we were invited for a quiet meal with our friend Priscilla. Mind you,' she went on to Cecily, 'she has always been fond of contriving unusual entertainment for her friends. This promises to be an excellent evening as long as Andrew is not the only man present. Maybe they are all to be attired in this way.'
'No! It's not like that at all,' I whispered urgently. Quickly I gave the two of them a brief description of the events that had transpired. All the while Gwendolen was playing most teasingly with my prick so that I had great difficulty in keeping my mind on my tale.
'Hetty! Show my guests in,' came Lady M-'s voice.
Pulling myself together, I disentangled myself from Gwendolen's grip, tugged my dress down, and adjusted my maid's cap. 'Not a word in front of the stranger,' I managed to hiss, 'I suspect that he is part of another plot altogether.'
I ushered them into the drawing room and closed the door behind them. Outside I took a deep breath and tried once more to think. The situation was that Lady M-knew that I was Andrew Scott, assistant to Porlock Holmes, the Great Detective. Cecily and Gwendolen also knew that I was Andrew Scott but did not know that Lady M-was privy to this information. And vice versa. The well-dressed stranger, as far as he had noticed me, thought that I was Hetty the maid. Neither Lady M — , Gwendolen nor Cecily had more than a sketchy idea of the events that had brought me to this state of frantic impersonation. I needed help in order to decide what to do next. It would have to be Holmes.
I picked my way carefully down the servants' stairs once more, hoping that I would stumble upon my friends rather than the two scullery maids. The laundry room would be the place to start. I minced towards it.
'Sixpence for a fuck,' said a quiet voice behind me.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. Megan! Then I let out a yelp of surprise as an intruding finger was shoved forcefully between the cheeks of my bum, probing through the thin material of my dress. As I turned, she turned with me, nipping me sharply in the nape of my neck with her teeth.
'Not now!' I said, reaching behind me to fend her off. Suddenly a door opened.
'Who are you?' said a new voice. Someone who was clearly a bone fide ladies' maid was looking at the two of us.
'You must be Lady M-'s personal maid,' came a further voice. Holmes had emerged from the laundry. 'Don't worry, my dear,' he said. 'I can explain everything. We are all friends of your mistress.'
The newcomer looked as though she was about to bolt in confusion and fright.
'We must keep our voices down,' said Holmes. 'Are you indeed Esther?'
'Yes-' she said reluctantly, still poised like a nervous gazelle, ready for flight.