“I expect they thought that if we had time we should try and stop them coming.”
“How right they were. Have the Connollies been fed?”
“I think so. At any rate Marlene was terribly sick in the car.”
“I’m dying to see these Connollies,” said Basil.
“You shall,” said his sister grimly.
But they were not in the lobby where they had been left. Barbara rang the bell. “Benson, you remember the Connolly children?”
“Vividly, madam.”
“They’re back.”
“Here, madam?”
“Here. Somewhere in the house. You’d better institute a search.”
“Very good, madam. And when they are found, they will be going away immediately?”
“Not immediately. They’ll have to stay here tonight. We’ll find somewhere for them in the village tomorrow.”
Benson hesitated. “It won’t be easy, madam.”
“It won’t be, Benson.”
He hesitated again; thought better of whatever he meant to say, and merely added: “I will start the search, madam.”
“I know what that means,” said Barbara as the man left them. “Benson is yellow.”
The Connollies were found at last and assembled. Doris had been in Barbara’s bedroom trying out her make-up, Micky in the library tearing up a folio, Marlene grovelling under the pantry sink eating the remains of the dogs’ dinners. When they were together again, in the lobby, Basil inspected them. Their appearance exceeded anything he had been led to expect. They were led away to the bachelors’ wing and put together into a large bedroom.
“Shall we lock the door?”
“It would be no good. If they want to get out, they will.”
“Could I speak to you for a moment, madam?” said Benson.
When Barbara returned she said, “Benson is yellow. He can’t take it.”
“Wants to leave?”
“It’s him or the Connollies, he says. I can’t blame him. Freddy will never forgive me if I let him go.”
“Babs, you’re blubbing.”
“Who wouldn’t?” said Barbara, pulling out a handkerchief and weeping in earnest. “I ask you, who wouldn’t?”
“Don’t be a chump,” said Basil, relapsing, as he often did with Barbara, into the language of the schoolroom. “I’ll fix it for you.”
“Swank. Chump yourself. Double chump.”
“Double chump with knobs on.”
“Darling Basil, it is nice to have you back. I do believe if anyone could fix it, you could.”
“Freddy couldn’t, could he?”
“Freddy isn’t here.”
“I’m cleverer than Freddy. Babs, say I’m cleverer than Freddy.”
“I’m cleverer than Freddy. Sucks to you.”
“Babs, say you love me more than Freddy.”
“You love me more than Freddy. Double sucks.”
“Say I, Barbara, love you, Basil, more than him, Freddy.”
“I won’t. I don’t… Beast, you’re hurting.”
“Say it.”
“Basil stop at once or I shall call Miss Penfold.” They were back twenty years, in the schoolroom again. “Miss Penfold, Miss Penfold, Basil’s pulling my hair.”
They scuffled on the sofa. Suddenly a voice said, ” ‘Ere, Missus.” It was Doris. “Missus!”
Barbara stood up, panting and dishevelled. “Well, Doris, what is it?”
“Marlene’s queer again.”
“Oh dear. I’ll come up. Run along.” Doris looked languishingly at Basil. ” ‘Aving a lark, eh?” she said. “I like a lark.”
“Run along, Doris. You’ll get cold.”
