Barry had never seen anything like it.
The Great Room alone was bigger than his school assembly hall. It was lit by a series of enormous hanging chandeliers, whose light sparkled off the silver turning handles of three large roulette wheels, which had been set up in the middle, and off the jewellery of all the amazingly dressed ladies who were filling up the space beneath.
There were also loads of green tables, around which some of these ladies – but mainly men in tuxedos – were sitting, playing cards. Everyone was holding drinks in tall glasses and talking and laughing. In the corner, a man in another tuxedo, only with a really long jacket, was playing a grand piano. It did look, Barry had to admit, very like some of the scenes in Casino Royale (the proper one, not the one with David Niven in it).
It even sounded a bit like it as the man on the piano was clearly trying very hard to play Dah Da-Da-Da/Dadada/Dah!da-da-da/Da-Da-Da/DAH-DAH!/Dadada. Only not getting it quite right.
Above the piano, strung between the walls, was a large banner – made, as far as Barry could make out, of silk – on which someone had managed, in the few hours since he had told Lord and Lady Rader-Wellorff the idea, to embroider the words BARRINGTON’S JAMES BOUND PARTY.
“Barrington!” screamed Lady Rader-Wellorff and rushed over. She was wearing a long ballgown and a new hat, which had a model on it of what looked like a… stretch-limo sports car. “Do you like it?” she said, seeing Barry look up.
“Yes…”
“It’s an Aston Martin. That’s what you said James Blond drives, didn’t you?”
“Bond…” said Barry.
Lady Rader-Wellorff opened her arms and gave him an enormous hug, squeezing him tightly between her quite large bosoms. As she bent down, the stretch Aston Martin at the top of his vision wobbled.
“We will, my darling! We are!” she said.
“What?” said Barry, slightly muffled.
“Bonding! Of course! Drink?” She stood up again and snapped her fingers. Peevish appeared from nowhere, carrying a tray.
“Er… yes, please…”
“Peevish. Did you make up the drink as Barrington explained?”
“Without question, Lady Rader-Wellorff.”
She took a triangular glass off the tray and handed it to Barry. “A Martini. It’s still lemonade with a grape in it, rather than vodka and an olive. But, as you requested, stirred, not shaken.”
She smiled and Barry took the glass.
“Er… actually, I said it should be…” He paused and looked at her big smiling face. “No, right. Thanks very much.” He took a sip of the drink, which was delicious.
“Chocolate?”
He looked up. Peevish was now holding a tray of golden balls, arranged as an enormous pyramid.
“My goodness, Peevish, with these you’re really spoiling us…” said Lady Rader-Wellorff.
Peevish smiled and bowed his head at her.
“No thanks,” said Barry. “Maybe later…”
“What would you like to play? Blackjack, quoits, feu-en-peu, Texas hold ’em, Five Card Naughty Bum, Penny Come Quick, Tuckers Maltings, Burundu, Stinky Finger Nothings or Lucky Dicky?”
“Um… I don’t know any of these games.”
“Oh,” said Lady Rader-Wellorff, looking very disappointed. She thought for a moment. “Silky Knick-Knacks? Basically, the dealer is the flop, and each player has to lead with a Jack, which is called the Hunter, and then you bet who’s going to have the lowest suit in any one colour as long as it’s not diamonds. If it is, the flop removes his Silky Knick-Knacks – i.e., hands over his cards, of course – and…”
“No, I don’t really… I don’t think I can play that. Sorry.”
“Hmm. What can you play?”
“Top Trumps,” said Barry. “And Snap.”
Lady Rader-Wellorff shook her head. “Frightfully sorry, Barrington. Never heard of those.”
Barry looked round. “I could play roulette. That looks like fun.”
Lady Rader-Wellorff brightened immediately. “Super idea!” she said. “Here, have a chip!”
For a second, Barry expected to see her hand over a thin fried potato covered in salt and vinegar, but instead it was a small red plastic circle. On it were written the words: One million pounds.
She pressed it into his hand and began marching him in the direction of one of the roulette tables.
“Er… is this the smallest amount you have?” said Barry, looking at the chip.
“Fraid so!” she said, without a backward glance.