Chapter 22

Lucy paused in the kitchen to massage her aching feet. She had discovered at least one very good reason for doing well at school. She wanted to be qualified for anything that would exempt her from waitressing for the rest of her life.

She vowed never to be impatient with a waitress again. Two hours of scurrying about fetching and carrying for a horde of rapacious harpies who seemed to have an endless appetite for cups of tea and pastries had taught her a new respect for the job and the unfortunate souls who were obliged to do it.

She looked at her watch again and said a silent prayer for the tournament to finish quickly, but she knew that it couldn't finish before eleven o'clock and she had to be here at the end whether her feet hurt or not.

She pulled a face through the serving hatch when she saw Trish glance up at her from the cards that she was studying. If Lucy had known how to play she would have been sitting down in comfort and having cups of tea served to her by a waitress instead of massaging her feet and praying for the evening to end.

There was a sudden flurry of movement and, as if they had been given an invisible signal, half of the women in the room rose to their feet. Lucy understood what was happening when the losing partners of the rubber moved to another table, but she hadn't yet worked out how they all knew which table to move to.

She lost sight of Trish for a moment and craned her neck to see which table she was heading for. A light touch on the back of her leg made her look round quickly.

"All right Luce?"

"Apart from my feet. They're killing me."

"Only another hour to go."

Lucy groaned and pretended to collapse.

"I'll never make it."

"You have to, otherwise Allie's in serious trouble. If you think that you've got it bad, just think about what she's having to do."

"I was only joking. You know I wouldn't let her down. How's it going out there?"

"Not bad but I thought my partner was going to kill me after the last game. I had to throw the rubber to make sure that I moved down this time. I've been worried sick that I'd meet her too early in the evening but this is perfect. I'm playing against her for the last game."

"I don't want to watch."

"You don't have to. Just make sure that she gets her cup of tea as near to eleven as possible and leave the rest to me."

"That's what I'm worried about. The thought of you trying to seduce an old hag like that."

Trish gently brushed a stray wisp of hair away from Lucy's eyes and smiled sympathetically.

"You're not jealous, are you?"

"Of course I am, you silly cow."

Trish smiled again and blew her a kiss as she turned for the door.

"If you're jealous of an old hag, it's a good thing she isn't young and beautiful like you are."

She turned back with her hand on the door and whispered, "I love you"

Lucy blushed and smiled back. Her feet felt better as well. Mrs Groves-Ormsby glanced up at Lucy without seeing her.

"I didn't ask for tea," she said imperiously.

Lucy dipped in a slight self conscious curtsey.

"I'm sorry, there must be some mistake. Shall I take it away." "No, you can leave it now that it's here."

Lucy hurried back to the kitchen. The small bottle in her apron pocket rattled and she slowed down, worried that somebody might hear the faint sound above the slap of cards and laboured breathing that filled the room.

Mrs Groves-Ormsby continued to grumble about the difficulties with servants these days while she studied her cards. She had no chance of making the contract and the prospect of losing the final rubber to a slip of a girl and her partner was making her ill tempered. She should never have bid the hand so high but the young girl to her left had pushed the bidding up and given her no option.

Trish noticed the older woman studying her covertly from the corner of her eye. She'd taken a malicious delight in forcing her to bid an impossible contract. Mrs Groves-Ormsby was going to go down for several hundred points this time. Trish hoped that she hadn't antagonised her too much. She only had twenty minutes left in which to make a favourable impression.

Despite her resolve, Lucy felt compelled to watch. She didn't want to see what happened but she couldn't ignore the situation. She watched impatiently, willing Mrs Groves-Ormsby to drink her tea.

As if she'd received a mental signal, Mrs Groves-Ormsby folded her cards, while Trish picked up the trick, and sipped delicately at her tea.

"Swallow it all, you silly old cow," hissed Lucy under her breath.

She'd felt genuine sympathy for the unsuspecting woman earlier in the evening. She'd even felt guilty about what they had planned for her but, as the time grew closer, her sympathy had turned to resentment. As she tormented herself with thoughts of what Trish had to do, she began to view Mrs Groves-Ormsby as a rival for Trish's affections.

She knew that it was irrational and she knew that Trish would be mad at her if she found out but, at the moment that she was supposed to drop the pill into the cup of tea, she hated Mrs Groves-Ormsby with such fury that she had doubled the dose. Mrs Groves-Ormsby finished her tea and Trish breathed a silent sigh of relief as the empty cup clinked into the saucer. There were three tricks to play and the unsuspecting woman to her right had no chance of making even one of them. Trish's partner took the trick and Trish cautiously pressed her knee against Mrs Groves-Ormsby's in a gesture of sympathy. The woman looked startled for a moment and then turned her attention back to the card on the table.

She studied her own cards and squinted as if she was having trouble seeing them. She selected a low trump and gave the trick away. A barely visible sheen of perspiration appeared on her upper lip and Trish chose that moment to increase the pressure of her knee. Her opponent looked up suspiciously and Trish smiled softly in commiseration......(cont)