“Getting up, sir.”
“See that everything is all right, will you? I mean as regards the foodstuffs and what not. I want him to make a good breakfast. He’s got to meet his mother this morning at Charing Cross. She’s legging it back from the Riviera.”
“Indeed, sir?”
Freddie shook his head.
“You wouldn’t speak in that light, careless tone if you knew her! Well, you’ll see her tonight. She’s coming here to dinner.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Miss Mariner will be here, too. A foursome. Tell Mrs Parker to pull up her socks and give us something pretty ripe. Soup, fish, all that sort of thing. She knows. And let’s have a stoup of malvoisie from the oldest bin. This is a special occasion!”
“Her ladyship will be meeting Miss Mariner for the first time, sir?”
“You’ve put your finger on it! Absolutely the first time on this or any stage! We must all rally round and make the thing a success.”
“I am sure Mrs Parker will strain every nerve, sir.” Parker moved to the door, carrying the rejected egg, and stepped aside to allow a tall, well-built man of about thirty to enter. “Good morning, Sir Derek.”