He spent the awkward few moments in the lift pushing buttons and trying to stare at her under his lashes. Luckily this was an officer she had never met before so she stared confidently back at him. ‘Charming weather we’re having, don’t you think, constable?’ she said, enunciating clearly.
‘Yes, indeed, madam. Very charming.’
From ‘miss’ to ‘madam’ in two sentences. Lily smiled. This was going well. As she stepped out of the lift, she slipped back her cahsmere wrap and allowed it to twine negligently down one arm as Phyl had told her. (‘Knock him for six, duck. You’ve got the shoulders for it.’)
The constable led her along the corridor and tapped on the commander’s door. Responding to a bellow from inside, he opened the door and announced: ‘Miss Harry for you, sir.’ Greatly daring, he followed added: ‘I hope you have a very pleasant evening, sir.’
‘Thank you, constable. I’m sure I shall.’
The exchange of male shibboleths was undetectable. The men were too professional to allow a knowing smile or a raised eyebrow to give them away.
She’d arrived exactly on time. Joe was busy with a cigar at an open window, discreetly puffing smoke out in the direction of Horse Guards. Gaze on the middle distance, tails, white tie, severely simple shirt and waistcoat, he caught himself posing and came forward to welcome his guest, then stood and stared at her in astonishment.
He realized he’d been silent for longer than was polite. ‘Great heavens, Wentworth! Look at you. Anyone would think you’d just stepped out of a Fabergé Easter egg!’
‘Drat! I knew I should have worn the gymslip!’ he could have sworn she mumbled.
‘No, you misunderstand! Oh, please don’t droop! Shoulders back, chin up, constable! I meant it as a compliment. You look like something designed by the world’s best jeweller. Sleek, precious, unique. A knockout! And that greenery-yallery colour is very … very …’