Stevie had cleaned off her smudged mascara and got the giggles under control by the time she ran into Tom again. He was frowning.
"What's up?" She thought of the last time she'd seen him and her arms itched to wrap themselves around him again. She was back in professional mode now, she told herself. Her hands curled into fists in order to resist the temptation to touch him.
"I seem to have lost Alice. Mum was looking for her. I've searched everywhere and I can't find her."
"Have you checked the cupboards?" Stevie bit her lip. That had come out before she'd had time to censor it.
He gave her a sideways glance, his eyes twinkling. "Even the cupboards." His expression went serious again. "The last time I saw her, she was heading off with those girls. I'm worried they're up to something."
Now Stevie was worried too. Thinking back, she realized the girls had all disappeared as soon as Pete left, which was some time ago now. "I'll help you look. Where have you checked?"
Tom ran through the list of places he'd been. "That just leaves the family's rooms and the basement rooms."
Stevie was likely to get lost if she tried to find Alice's room, so she suggested she took the basement while Tom ran up to the residential rooms.
The basement consisted of a number of small rooms that were used as storerooms, offices and one downstairs reading room. As Stevie descended the stairs, she heard voices. Oh good. They were here. She felt a wave of relief. If they'd left the house to go clubbing, finding them would have been next to impossible.
She followed the voices to one of the rooms and opened the door. The curtains had been drawn and the girls were sitting on the floor. The room was illuminated by candles, set in saucers and dangerously close to the shelves of paperbacks. All four girls looked up. Stevie flicked on the main light.
"What's going on?" Her eyes took in the girls' appearance. They seemed slightly glazed and were slow to react. They were drunk.
The open candle flames danced.
They were drunk and had put the house at risk.
Anger flared in Stevie. "Well?"
"None of your business," snapped Veronica.
Stevie ignored her. "Alice, get those candles out. They could set fire to the books." She strode in and began pinching the candles off, one by one.
"Hey!" Veronica stood up, unsteadily. "Who are you to come in here--"
"I," said Stevie, "am a very angry adult." As she neared the girl she smelled alcohol. She looked around until she saw a nearly empty bottle. She and Veronica both made a dive for it, but Stevie was faster. She sniffed. "Vodka?"
So that was what had been in Veronica's big bag. She should have checked it. If these girls had drunk a full bottle of this stuff among them, they were likely to be very drunk indeed. It was a miracle that none of them had been sick already.
"Right. I'm confiscating this. Alice, is there a kitchen other than the big one upstairs where you can sit and have coffee?"
Alice shook her head.
"We don't want to have coffee," Veronica said. The other two girls stood up and the three of them stood in front of her, their manner threatening. "Why don't you bugger off and leave us to have fun."
"Yeah," Alice piped up. She was still on the floor.
"Because this house has an alcohol licence. If you are found here, drunk, we may lose that licence. And," she added as one of them opened her mouth, "you could have burned the whole place down with those damned candles."
Veronica laughed. "Nah. That only happens in the movies."
"You know that for a fact do you? Or did you think you'd try it out in someone else's house?" Stevie pulled out her phone and called Tom, trying not to take her eyes off the girls the whole time.
"We're in the basement," she said. "They're drunk. Come down here. Don't tell Evelyn."
Alice sniffed. "Gran's going to kill me."
"You should have thought of that beforehand." Stevie held out a hand and hauled her to her feet. "Right, you lot. I'm getting some coffee down you and sobering you up."
"No you're not."
"Yes. I am. Now come with me."
The girls didn't move.
"Make me." Veronica smirked.
Stevie was now so angry that she was starting to shake with it. She stepped up so that she was face to face with the teenager. She growled, "Any more lip from you and I will take you down to the police station to be sobered up in their cells."
"You don't know my real name," Veronica sneered back, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice now.
"I don't need to," said Stevie. "That's for the police to find out."
"You wouldn't dare."
Stevie brought her face closer and looked into her eyes. "Try me." They glared at each other for a moment, each trying to call the other's bluff.
Veronica's gaze faltered and Stevie knew she'd won.
One of the other girls said, "I feel sick."
Stevie grabbed a nearby potpourri bowl, tipped its contents on the floor and shoved it under the girl's face, just as the vomit arced out of her mouth. All the others took a step back. The smell, interlaced with that of the displaced potpourri filled the room. The girls were all starting to look pale.
Tom appeared and took in the scene. "Shit."
"Tom, get some coffee into them. And some toast if they can take it. You," she said to the girl who was retching over the now full bowl. "Come with me."
Stevie took her to the nearest bathroom and waited while she threw up some more. Afterward she helped her clean her face up, splashing it liberally with cold water, and took her, via the outdoor courtyard, to the kitchen.
Tom was giving the other girls coffee and water. Alice was huddled in a chair at the far end, sobbing. Veronica and the other girl were making cow eyes at him.
Stevie felt another wave of anger. She also felt curiously responsible for all of them. Especially Alice. She suddenly wondered if this was how Marsh felt when he'd found her stoned in Tom's room. No wonder he went mental.
"Feel better now?" she asked the girl who had been sick.
The girl nodded. She was staring blankly at the mug that Tom had placed in front of her.
There was a moment of silence as everyone avoided eye contact. Tom poured Stevie a coffee and placed it in front of her.
"Now then, Veronica, or whatever your name is," said Stevie. "Where were you planning to stay tonight?"
Veronica just sat there.
"Well?"
"We're taking the bus back to London," Veronica muttered.
"And your parents are okay with you wandering around London at three in the morning?"
More silence. The other two girls stared at Veronica, who didn't flinch.
Stevie sighed. "Let me guess. You two have told your parents that you're staying with her." She pointed to Veronica. "And her parents are either away, or don't care."
Veronica said nothing, but the guilty looks from the other two confirmed she was right.
Stevie sent a silent question to Tom. He moved his head, indicating that they should go to the other end of the kitchen.
"What am I going to do?" she whispered.
"Put them on the bus," said Tom. "They look to be around sixteen. There are three of them. They'll be more or less sober by the time that coffee kicks in. Although I think your threatening to take them to the police sobered them up pretty well."
"But they're just kids!"
"Not really. We can see them onto the bus. If you like, you can give them money for a taxi at the other end."
"What if they get off at an earlier stop?"
"There isn't an earlier stop. It's a direct bus."
Stevie considered the trio. Veronica seemed to be recovering her bravado, but the other two were well and truly subdued.
Tom's phone rang. "What?" he said into it. "What floorshow?" He grinned at Stevie. "Apparently, there's a fat man dancing with his shirt off..."
"Yeah. I know."
Tom raised one eyebrow and returned to the phone. "Actually Og, how're you getting home tonight?" He listened. "I might call you back."
He put his phone back in his pocket. "Og's going back to London. She could watch them."
"We can't ask her to do that. She's a guest."
Tom shrugged. "I doubt there's anything that those three can come up with to faze her."
"Maybe."
"I'll ask." He pulled out his phone again.
Stevie returned to the girls and put her hand on Alice's shoulder. Alice was sobbing in earnest now. Stevie knelt beside her. "Hey," she said gently. "It's okay."
"It's not," said Alice. "Gran's going to murder me."
Stevie looked at her with pity. Alice was only fourteen and right now she looked even younger. "Well, hopefully we can sort something out." She became aware of Veronica watching her with interest. Searching for a chink in her armour, no doubt. "We'll talk about it later." She patted Alice's shoulder.
"So," said Veronica. "Decided what you're going to do with us yet?"
"Technically, you're not my responsibility. You've told me you're over eighteen. I just need to get you off the premises."
"Isn't he going to take us home?" Veronica looked at Tom and grinned. "He can take me anywhere he likes. Any way he likes."
Tom gave Stevie a horrified look that said he was not going to be left alone with these girls. Ever.
Stevie sighed again.
* * * *
Stevie and Tom took everyone out of the side entrance and bundled them into a taxi, with Olivia sitting in front and the girls in the back. Once inside again, Stevie leaned against the side door while Tom locked it.
"I hope we did the right thing," she said.
"You did," he said. "You couldn't let them stay here and risk Evelyn or Lady Beryl finding out."
"I know." Stevie closed her eyes. "What's the time?"
"Just gone 1:30 a.m." He leaned against the door next to her. "Long night huh?"
"Tell me about it. I just hope nothing else goes wrong. I don't think I could handle any more."
"You dealt with those girls really well," he said.
She looked sideways at him to see if he was joking. He turned his head and smiled at her. "I mean it. In fact, you're quite scary when you're being grown up."
She stared, unsure how to take that. Was he trying to tell her that he no longer saw her as a child? How much of that was to do with how she handled the girls and how much was to do with the kiss?
He met her gaze, his eyes twinkling. Stevie felt her heart speed up. Footsteps approached and they both turned their heads to see who it was.
"Hello you two," said Evelyn. She looked tired. "What are you doing?"
"Just discussing how the ball went," said Tom.
"It's not over yet," Evelyn said. "I think we might have to wind up the disco. Mr. Farrier is getting a little less funny."
Stevie nodded and peeled herself away from where she was leaning.
"Was Alice okay?" Evelyn asked Tom. Alice had been sent to her room to sleep off the alcohol.
"Oh yes,. You know how it is. I think it was the excitement of seeing Pete in the flesh more than anything else. She wouldn't shut up about it."
"I'm sure I'll hear all about it tomorrow," said Evelyn. "By the way, Stevie, Lady Beryl and Lord Grayingham left a few minutes ago. Important things to do tomorrow apparently."
Meaning "We won't come and help with the clean-up." On the other hand, things were a lot easier without Lady Beryl around. "I'll go have a word with Dilan," she said, and trudged wearily towards the disco.
Dilan, was already winding down. A slow ballad was playing and a few couples, the Farriers included, were swaying in time to the music. Mr. Farrier had, thankfully, recovered his shirt and jacket.
Dilan removed his headset. "I thought Mr. Disco over there was getting a little too manic, so I thought I'd take it down and finish. I know it's earlier than planned," he said apologetically.
"No, that's fine. I was actually coming to ask you to do just that," Stevie said.
When she cast an eye over the dance floor, Stevie couldn't help noticing at least one couple were lost to the rest of the world and engrossed in a kiss. She thought of her own kiss with Tom and allowed herself a moment of reflection before dragging herself back to the present.
"So, it was a good night, then?"
Dilan chuckled. "More for some than others."
Stevie thought Tom again. "Yes," she agreed. "Definitely"
If the disco was closing down, she should really see if she could hint to the other guests that the evening was coming to an end. "I'll be back in about ten minutes."
"Cool. Should have this lot sorted and the lights turned on by then." Dilan put his headset back on. "Two more songs ladies and gentlemen," he said into the sound system. "Let's make them good ones."
* * * *
Stevie ended up by the door, handing out coats and accepting comments on how well things had gone. A few people asked for her card, which she gladly gave out.
"That were a cracking good laugh," hollered Mr. Farrier, as he staggered slightly. He was shouting, presumably because his ears were still ringing from the disco. His shirt was buttoned up but still untucked. "I haven't had that much fun in years."
"I'm glad to hear that," said Stevie.
"And Cherry got to meet her pop star, so it's good all round."
"That's fantastic."
"Tell you what though," he said, dropping his voice from bellow to merely loud. "I thought it were a right rip off at the time, but I'm glad I paid up for it now."
Stevie smiled and refrained from mentioning that they weren't going to see much of his two hundred fifty pounds. That would go to the eBayer who sold the tickets on.
"And it's a bloody good cause, don't you think love?" he said to his wife. "You got my chequebook handy?"
Cherry smiled and fished it out of her bag.
"You call us a taxi," he said to Stevie. "I'll make a little donation to your charity box."
"Of course." Stevie moved a discrete distance away and called a taxi. She could hear Cherry whispering to her husband.
"How much?" he said.
Whisper, whisper, whisper.
"For you my love, anything." He wrote the cheque, folded it into four and dropped it in the collection box.
"The taxi should be here in about five minutes," Stevie said.
The Farriers stood side by side, arms around each other's waist.
"So what do you do, Mr. Farrier?" Stevie said, with what she hoped sounded like polite curiosity.
"Self made man, me," he said. "Own a string of golf shops. Give the girl one of our cards, Cherry."
Cherry produced a card from her bag and handed it over. Stevie gave one of her own ones back.
"If you ever need any golfing equipment, I'm your man."
"I shall pass your card on to someone I know. I think he'll be very interested."
"That's the idea. Word of mouth, that's what sells. Better than any of your posh adverts." He grinned. "We gave a bunch of cards to that fancy lawyer bird. I bet she's got golfing friends."
Assuming he was talking about Vienna, Stevie nodded. "I'm sure she has."
After a few more minutes' chitchat, the taxi arrived and the Farriers left. As they went out the door, Mr. Farrier's hand was not too subtly fondling his wife's bottom.
Stevie shook her head and turned to say goodbye to another guest.
* * * *
With everyone dispatched to their homes and the lights being turned off, Stevie took her shoes into one hand and headed up to her room. She finally allowed herself to think about her kiss with Tom. He had been so reluctant to kiss her before, yet once their lips had met, it was as though a dam of longing had been breached. Perhaps it was loyalty to Vienna that had prevented him from kissing her before. After Vienna headed off with Pete, there was nothing to stop him from being with Stevie. Unless of course he still thought her too young. Or too needy.
As she entered an unfamiliar corridor, she realised she'd taken a wrong turn somewhere. This wasn't where her room was. It looked like a corridor of guest rooms. Stevie muttered a curse under her breath. She should have paid attention to where she was going, rather than daydreaming about Tom.
As if in response to her thoughts, a side door opened and Tom appeared. His hair was tousled. His bow tie and the top button of his shirt were undone. He looked unutterably gorgeous. Stevie felt like her blood had caught fire. He stopped and stared at her. "What are you doing here?"
Stevie was so overcome with lust that it took a moment for her to squeak, "I'm lost." She realised it was true in more ways than one.
Tom's gaze moved from her face down to her bare feet and then back up again. His eyes met hers, smoky with wanting. Without thinking Stevie moved towards him. She stopped in front of him, a mere heartbeat away.
He looked down at her and seemed to be fighting to find his voice. "Stevie," he began. "I don't do commitment..."
She didn't care about commitment. She didn't care about anything at that moment, except the need to touch him. If she didn't feel his lips on hers again soon she was going to explode. She recognised that tonight they were both giddy from the ball and that the chance to be with him would be gone by the morning. If one night was all she could have with him, then so be it.
"Did I mention commitment?" She reached up and slipped her hand against the side of his neck, just below his open collar.
Tom drew a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. He shook his head.
"Well shut up and kiss me then," she said.
He gave a sound that was part sigh, part groan and kissed her. They stood there, lips and bodies pressed together. His arms wrapped around her. She still had her shoes in one hand. Her free hand caressed his neck.
As their kiss intensified, Stevie felt herself almost boiling with the need for him. Tom's embrace tightened for a moment, then loosened. He stepped back, still kissing her. Then, after placing a final kiss on her lips, as though sealing a pact, he took her hand and led her to his room.
Once the door was shut behind him, Tom gathered her against him and kissed her again. Stevie let her shoes tumble to the floor.
Reaching behind her, Tom gently unzipped her dress. His finger trailed a burning line down the length of her spine. Stevie moaned and arched her back. Her dress whispered down to a puddle of blue silk at her feet. Still kissing her, Tom picked her out of her clothes and carried her to his bed.