The Perfume Collector. Kathleen Tessaro
for the good of Britain.’ She flashed Grace a little smile. ‘So nice to meet you. Really.’
‘Let’s get a drink,’ Mallory decided, heading for the refreshments table. ‘And I don’t mind telling you, I have designs on that gold watch.’
Grace put a hand on Mallory’s arm. ‘How did Vanessa know about my family?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose it’s common knowledge. Why?’
‘Nothing.’ Grace frowned. ‘Only there’s a family rumour my cousin is going to be forced to sell the estate soon. Roger’s quite upset about it. But those old places simply burn money and there’s so much debt.’
Mallory gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Don’t think about that tonight, darling. It’s probably just a coincidence that she brought it up.’
Grace hadn’t expected to enjoy herself but the evening was surprisingly entertaining. Vanessa’s cattle car policy meant that conversation was immediate and the carnival games created a raucous sense of competitive camaraderie. Mallory lost almost five pounds on the coconut shy before finally landing an up-and-coming Rank starlet in the dunk tank, to the extreme delight of all the men nearby. Grace excelled at horseshoes, eventually being outplayed by the Duchess of Kent. Neither of the girls won the gold watch. Grace discovered a few familiar faces amidst the throng and both she and Mallory devoured several caviar tarts washed down with champagne.
Then Mallory spotted the Mr Memory stall, manned by Phillip Maxwell himself in a top hat and tails, and became even more excited.
‘Look! We used to play this game all the time as children.’ She grabbed Grace’s arm and dragged her across the hall. ‘I’m an expert at this. Come on. I’ll go against you, one on one.’
‘I’ve never played.’ Grace stared at the row of increasingly larger trays lined up on the stall counter. Each was covered with a cloth. ‘What do you do?’
‘It’s the easiest thing in the world, ladies!’ Phillip Maxwell tipped his hat, giving them an exaggerated bow. ‘Each tray has upwards of fifteen objects on it. I remove the cloth for a minute, cover it again, and you have another minute to record as many objects as you can remember. The person who’s able to remember the most objects correctly is the winner.’
‘That’s all?’ It sounded straightforward enough. ‘All right, Mal. You’re on.’
Phillip Maxwell handed them each a pencil and a piece of paper. ‘Now, you can’t begin writing your answers until the tray has been completely re-covered, understand? Ready, steady, go!’
He lifted the cloth, timing the minute with a stopwatch, then replaced it.
Mallory began furiously jotting down her list.
Grace, however, didn’t move.
‘Time!’ Maxwell called. ‘Pass me your papers!’
Mallory handed hers across then looked at Grace. ‘But you haven’t written anything.’
Grace smiled. ‘I don’t need to.’
‘Oh really? And why is that?’
‘I remember,’ Grace said.
Maxwell and Mallory exchanged a look.
‘Well, go on then!’ Mallory crossed her arms in front of her chest. ‘Prove it!’
Grace took a deep breath. ‘One thimble; four needles of various sizes stuck into a pincushion in the shape of a green tomato; a small red rubber ball; a box of Bromo; two shillings, one heads side up, one tails; a glass ring, emerald cut; a letter opener with an ivory handle; a letter addressed to the leader of the Labour Party, unopened; a tortoiseshell comb; a leather hunting flask; a bill of sale from Ogden’s bookshop in Bloomsbury for two books, totalling one pound, two shillings; a folded road map for Dorset; a used packet of Chesterfields; a token from a fairground ride; a china salt shaker in the shape of a duck; a nail file; and a teaspoon with the letters “VM” engraved on the handle.’
Mallory blinked. She turned to Maxwell, who examined the contents of the tray.
‘My God, that’s uncanny!’ he said, looking back up.
‘How can you do that?’ Mallory asked.
Grace shook her head, her cheeks colouring. ‘I don’t know. It’s a rather useless talent, actually.’
‘Go on,’ Mallory pointed to the next larger tray. ‘Do that one.’
Again, the tray was uncovered for a minute and then re-covered.
Grace flashed Mallory a smile. ‘Do I get another drink for this?’
‘Absolutely!’
‘A small black leather notebook and a gold pencil; a ball of twine; two horn buttons probably from a sweater …’ Again, Grace proceeded to reel off another twenty objects, in great detail, with eerie accuracy.
By now a small crowd had gathered around them.
‘What’s she doing?’
‘She doesn’t even need to write them down!’
‘She’s cheating!’ someone shouted out.
‘Impossible!’ Mallory turned on them. ‘She’s never even played the game before.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ someone else chimed in. ‘This is a set-up.’
‘Have you hired her, Maxwell? Is this a joke?’
‘Absolutely not,’ he assured them. ‘Everything’s on the up and up.’
‘Like your candidates?’
A roar of laughter.
The crowd continued to swell.
‘Make her do another one!’
‘Make it harder this time!’
Grace reached out for Mallory’s hand. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ she whispered.
‘We can’t go now. You’ve been accused of cheating. It will look like you’re guilty. Besides, you’re winning,’ she added with a grin.
Phillip Maxwell was enjoying the high drama of the occasion too.
‘Fine,’ he agreed, tipping the contents of one of the trays out on the counter. ‘We shall give this young woman a real challenge!’ He whispered in the ear of one of the waiters, who hurried away, returning moments later with an evening bag ornamented with black jet beads.
Maxwell held it up with a flourish. ‘My wife Vanessa’s handbag, ladies and gentlemen! Who knows what mysteries lurk in its dark depths!’
Laughter.
‘There is no possible way that this girl could know the contents – not even I know the contents and, quite frankly, I’m not certain I want to!’
More laughter and a smattering of applause.
‘And just to up the stakes, this time I’ll uncover the tray for only half a minute! Now, turn around,’ he instructed Grace, who did as she was told, turning to face the crowd of people who had gathered behind her. She could hear Maxwell emptying the handbag, arranging the objects on the tray.
Finally he gave her the go-ahead.
Mallory took her by the shoulders. ‘Are you ready?’
Grace nodded.
Mallory turned her round and Maxwell unveiled the tray. After only thirty seconds he covered it again.
‘Your time starts – now!’ he said, looking at his stopwatch.
Grace concentrated. ‘A linen handkerchief with the letters “VM” embroidered in one corner in white silk thread; a green enamel and gold powder compact; a tube of Hiver lipstick; an alligator