Bartie leans sideways as my words crash over him, then stands up ramrod straight and salutes me.
I don’t hide my grin. “That’s more like it. Now that you’re not skulking behind the greenery, could you help me look around and see if there is anything else we need to do before we throw the doors open?”
Together we survey the marquee. The heaters have done their job; the space is warm and toasty without feeling muggy. I pull a digital thermometer out of my handbag, doing a final check of the temperature and humidity. “Perfect!” I declare before jamming it back into my bag.
I can hear the band beginning to warm up, the familiar swing tones from the early part of the 1900s filling the quiet space. The waitstaff bustles around the room, placing final pieces of cutlery on the tables and polishing up glasses. One by one, they step back from their work and assume their opening positions along the walls.
Reminding me of a young Mr Carson from Downton Abbey, Bartie straightens his coattails and gives me a confident gaze. “Ms Natalie, I believe the room is now ready to receive our guests.”
Bartie waves to Will, back from his quick change. Will nods, stepping to the side and sliding through the curtains to the coat check so he can open the main doors. The gala has officially begun.
I mill around for the first hour, watching as the guests arrive and take a drink and hors d’oeuvre from the passing waiters. They all wear the same look as they enter the room, wide-eyed delight and curiosity mingling with a teensy bit of confusion. Perfect.
I step outside the catering entrance to the marquee to grab a breath of air before I give the sign to serve dinner. The sounds of conversation and laughter blend with the soft tones of the band, the buzzing sounds a sure sign that the event is a success so far. Even catching H trying to sneak into the event earlier in the evening didn’t worry me. One Eternal had bundled him out before anyone else noticed.
Catherine Morgan rounds a corner, walking in my direction until she catches my eye. Without saying a word, she holds a finger over her mouth and motions for me to follow her. Confused and slightly concerned, I tiptoe around the marquee through the grass until we nearly reach the front entrance.
I peek around the corner to see the man himself. Edward Thomas, Professor of Criminology, senior fellow and master of disappearance. I’ve barely seen him since we caught the murderer and finished our interviews with the police inspector. Once that mystery was solved, there was no further need for us to spend time together. Or at least that’s what I’ve been telling myself when we’ve passed one another in the hallway with barely a nod and a hello.
I had doubted that he would turn up, thinking he’d find a conference or some other excuse. But here he is, dressed to the nines in a tailored black suit and black bowtie. He has tamed his unwieldy curls with a heavy hand of gel. He looks so debonair, I hardly recognise him.
Edward calls out to Dr Radcliffe, catching her before she enters the gala. She’s been standing outside in a receiving line, welcoming guests since it started.
Exchanging handshakes, Edward quips, “Quite a turnout tonight, Dr Radcliffe.”
“I’ll say,” she replies with a smile. “We’re lucky it is even taking place. It is such an important fundraising event, as you know, I feared circumstances would require us to cancel.”
“Err, yes, lucky that all of that sorted itself out.” He coughs into his hand.
Sorted itself out??? Is that how he describes my soaking wet dash around the college? Fortunately, Catherine is still there, and able to stop me from marching over.
Oblivious to my presence, Dr Radcliffe turns towards the doors. “I believe it is time for a drink. We’ve all been under a lot of pressure, none more so than Natalie Payne. She took a risk with the theme and the chef. She kept nearly all of it a secret. In fact, I don’t even know who the chef is.”
Edward flinches, “I imagine she worked very hard on the event. For her sake, I hope it doesn’t look like Disneyland.”
Dr Radcliffe steps back to allow him to pass ahead of her, and in doing so she catches sight of me peeking around the marquee edge.
She waves Edward on, “Go on in, Edward. I’ll let you be the judge of that yourself.”
Edward takes a deep breath and steps into the coat check area. Catherine Morgan winks at me, spinning away as Dr Radcliffe waves me over to join her.
My cheeks burn under her gaze, feeling like a schoolgirl caught eavesdropping on her superiors.
She gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “Chin up, Natalie. I haven’t been inside yet, but from out here, it sounds like the evening is a great success.”
I return her smile with one of my own, raising my hand to show my crossed fingers. “All well so far, I’m literally crossing my fingers it stays that way.”
Dr Radcliffe laughs, “You don’t need luck. I owe you, in fact the whole college owes you an incredible amount of thanks, Natalie. In less than a month you’ve not only organised a gorgeous gala, you also unmasked a murderer hiding in our midst. And you’ve done it all with a smile on your face.”
I stand speechless, my throat tight with emotion.
Dr Radcliffe saves me from needing to reply. “I won’t ask you to relax now, as I know that would be impossible. But once dinner is done, and the dancing starts, I expect to see you out there enjoying yourself. But enough chatting, let’s get inside. If you hurry along, you can probably catch Edward’s first reaction. He’ll be through coat check at any moment.”
❖
The marquee walls look solid, but thanks to having spent the last two days working around the clock to transform them from blank
