The Midnight Peacock. Katherine Woodfine
offices, reporting to Miss Atwood, he had been given permission to spend one day a week, helping Sophie and Lil with their new business. And that was a jolly good job, he was given to remark, since neither of them had the first idea of how an office ought to be run.
‘If you want Mr Sinclair to take you seriously, then you have to do things properly,’ he reprimanded Lil half a dozen times a day. Billy had been well trained by Miss Atwood, and in his book, doing things properly meant writing reports, filing documents, keeping careful accounts with neat red lines ruled in all the right places, and making sure their desks were always tidy. That was an easy enough matter for Sophie, who rather liked putting things in order, but an almost impossible task for Lil, who was forever surrounded by a jumble of crumpled papers and spilled ink. Most importantly of all, Billy said, they must always be ready to receive clients who might turn up without an appointment. Now he looked at Sophie disapprovingly. Sitting comfortably curled up in a chair was not what he considered properly businesslike.
But Sophie just grinned at him. ‘I don’t think we’ll get any new clients this afternoon,’ she said. ‘They’re all downstairs, choosing presents and buying delicious things to eat. Christmas just isn’t the season for mysteries. Why don’t you sit down? I’m sure Miss Atwood can spare you for a few minutes, and I was just going to make some tea.’
Appreciating the logic of this, Billy shrugged, and flopped down into a chair. ‘Oh – are those the notes from the Albemarle case?’ he asked with interest. ‘Let’s have a look.’
Sophie passed over the documents willingly, as she flicked quickly through the afternoon post. At first glance it all looked quite usual: two letters from clients that she put aside to read later; some bills and circulars; and the latest edition of Theatrical News for Lil, who combined working for Taylor & Rose with performing on the West End stage. But underneath them was a narrow envelope with a foreign stamp. She frowned. Surely that handwriting was familiar? She swiftly ripped the envelope open – but her gasp of surprise was stifled by the bang of the door opening again as Lil burst into the room, her cheeks rosy from the cold.
‘Hello, all!’ she announced breathlessly, casting off a stylish coat with a fur collar, and tossing a pair of new kid gloves carelessly down upon the chair. Whilst she might look very much the glamorous young actress these days, Sophie knew that underneath the fashionable clothes and hairstyles, Lil was just the same girl that she had been when they had met at Sinclair’s for the very first time. There could certainly be no doubt that she still talked just as much as ever, Sophie thought with a smile.
‘Gosh – I don’t think I’ve ever seen the store so busy before, have you? Oh yes, it all went quite well. Miss Balfour said she was awfully pleased with everything we’ve done – and she’s going to recommend Taylor & Rose to all her friends. I say, just look at how the snow is coming down! It makes it feel like it’s really Christmas. Isn’t it cosy in here? Joe’s on his way up and look – Leo’s come to tea with us. I’ve promised her cake, so I jolly well hope we’ve got some.’
Sophie saw that another girl, of about the same age, had followed Lil into the room. In her plain, dark coat, now speckled with melting snowflakes, Leo Fitzgerald could easily have been mistaken for any ordinary schoolgirl. But the big portfolio she carried, and a certain dreamy gleam in her brown eyes were clues to the fact that Leo was a promising young artist, currently studying at London’s prestigious Spencer Institute.
‘Hullo, Leo!’ exclaimed Billy.
‘Come and sit by the fire and get warm – it’s so cold outside,’ Sophie urged her. ‘I didn’t realise you were still in London – I thought you’d have already gone home for the Christmas holidays.’
Leo carefully set down her portfolio, and the cane she always used – a rather beautiful one, made from a rich, dark wood, with a handle carved into the shape of a lion’s head. ‘I’m going tomorrow,’ she explained, as she unwound her scarf. ‘Some of us students have been helping Mr Kamensky with the scenery for the New Year’s Eve Ball and there’s been an awful lot to do. But it’s been good fun – and truthfully I’ve been rather glad to have an excuse to stay in town a little longer. I’m in no rush to go home,’ she confessed. ‘In fact, that’s what I wanted to talk to you all about. I wondered whether you had plans for Christmas?’
Sophie did not answer at once. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. She knew that the others would be busy on Christmas Day: Billy would spend the day with his mum and Uncle Sid, and she expected that Lil and her older brother Jack would go home to see their parents. But she herself had no plans at all. ‘Oh – I think I’ll just have a quiet day,’ she had murmured, when Lil had pressed her. The truth was that she didn’t want to think about it. The idea of another Christmas without Papa was something that she couldn’t quite bring herself to contemplate.
Luckily no one noticed her reluctance to answer the question, for just then Joe came in, with Daisy at his heels.
Officially Daisy was the Sinclair’s guard dog, but Joe had looked after her ever since she had arrived at the store, and she considered him her owner. She slept on his bed in the rooms above the stables, and followed him wherever he went. When she was on guard duty, she could be fearsome, but the rest of the time she was gentle and playful, and loved nothing more than a frolic with Mr Sinclair’s little pug, Lucky. Now, she sniffed around the office, greeting each of them with an enthusiastic lick, and then laid one big paw on Sophie’s knee, tilting her head to the side, with a hopeful look at the chocolate box.
‘You know you aren’t allowed those, you daft dog. Come over here and sit down,’ said Joe, grinning around at everyone and settling himself next to Billy. Joe still worked in the Sinclair’s stables, but like Billy, he was very much part of Taylor & Rose. He was sometimes allowed to act as Sophie and Lil’s driver, accompanying the two young detectives on their investigations – with Daisy coming along to help too, of course.
‘Look, now we’re all here, just listen to this,’ Lil was saying excitedly, as she spooned tea leaves into the teapot. ‘Leo’s got a terrific idea! She wants to invite us – all of us – to spend Christmas with her at her home, Winter Hall! What do you think of that? Isn’t it awfully kind?’
Leo’s face flushed pink. ‘Well, I have to be honest – it’s not really very kind of me at all. The truth of it is, I’d have an awful time at home on my own. Mother and Father always have a big house party for Christmas, and they invite lots of society people. None of them have a single thing to say to me – except for my godmother Lady Tremayne, of course. You’d like her. She’s the one who persuaded them to let me go to art school in the first place. Anyway, Mother said that I could invite some of my own friends this year. I thought that if you would all come for a few days, it would be much better – rather fun, in fact.’
‘What about your brother? Won’t he be there?’ asked Lil, handing her a cup of tea.
Leo gave a little snort. ‘Oh yes, Vincent will be there all right. But he’s – well – you’ll see what he’s like for yourself, if you come.’ She looked around at them all. ‘Do say you will. I know I haven’t made it sound very enticing, but Winter Hall is beautiful at Christmas – I’d love to show it to you. I’ve already asked Jack and he says he’ll come if you will.’
‘Well, thanks for the invite – but I reckon I can’t get away,’ said Joe, as he accepted a slab of the iced plum cake that Billy had found in the cake tin. ‘You see, even when the store’s closed, we’ve still got the horses to look after. Most of the other fellers want to go home to their families, so I said I’d stay on and look after things.’
Sophie gave him a quick smile. Like her, Joe was all alone in the world, with no family that would expect him on Christmas Day. It was just like him to volunteer to shoulder the work, so that the other stable boys and grooms would be free to go home to their loved ones.
‘Me neither,’ Billy was saying. ‘I’ve got Christmas Day off, of course, but apart from that, I’ll be here. There’s an awful lot still to be organised for the ball, you know – and Miss Atwood says I’m to expect