imagined. ‘It’s the time of year,’ Richard said. ‘People go mad, trying to shoe-horn in a Royal event before Christmas. One day I’m in London in the morning, Cornwall for lunch and Manchester for dinner in the evening. Crazy. It will be better in the New Year.’
‘You were going to let me see your diary,’ Bella reminded him. They were curled round each other on Lottie’s sofa, drinking hot chocolate and half watching an old Audrey Hepburn movie.
He was surprised. ‘I thought Ian had already sent it to you. I’ll get it sorted tomorrow.’
Lottie came in from work then, tired but pleased with the way her evening PR event had gone. Richard untangled himself and stood up, courteously. Bella turned off the television.
‘No, don’t do that,’ said Lottie, kicking off her shoes and padding across to the fire. ‘Finish your film. I’m beat. I’ll just fall into bed.’
But she was so obviously cold and hyped up that Bella insisted on making her some hot chocolate too while Richard built up the fire so that Lottie could toast her toes.
‘I have to be going soon anyway,’ he said with regret. ‘Early start tomorrow. I’m on board ship for breakfast.’
Lottie shuddered and held her hands to the blaze. ‘Rather you than me.’
‘It’ll be fine. The only problem is sorting out time for Bella and me to be together.’
‘He’s very inventive,’ Bella remarked, bringing in Lottie’s hot chocolate. ‘He escapes from his minders and comes dressed as a nerd. So far we’ve met in a bank, a bookshop, and on the main concourse at St Pancras Station. And nobody has given us a second glance.’
‘People see what they expect to see,’ Lottie agreed.
But later, when Richard had gone, she said, ‘I have an idea. Do you know which evening receptions he’s going to? Say, striking distance of London?’
Bella didn’t. But Ian did eventually disgorge Richard’s official programme.
‘Poor lamb, first of all he has to go to endless drinks receptions. Then he goes on to dinners and gets made speeches at,’ she told Lottie.
‘Hmm. Can you still do silver service?’
When they were students, they had both earned extra dosh from moonlighting as waitresses at weddings and directors’ lunches. Bella said now, ‘I suppose so. Why?’
‘Because I think you ought to tell Anthea that you’re available for some evening work.’
‘What? Why? I’m not short of money—’
Lottie sighed patiently. ‘There’s no reason for Richard to be the only one who’s inventive. You get yourself on to the caterers’ waitress roster and surprise him. Ta da!’
Bella thought about it. ‘That’s not a bad idea, Lotts.’
‘Although you’d have to get clearance to work at Royal dos, I suppose.’
‘I’ll ask Ian,’ said Bella, more and more intrigued by the idea.
The security officer thought it was a hoot and put her in touch with a terrifying woman who provided stand-in footmen and butlers for big Palace occasions. With Christmas coming up, Ellen Catering would be looking for extra occasional staff, she said, and with a Royal security officer as one referee, Bella was a godsend. Could she also provide three other references, including one from a minister of the cloth and one from a JP? Bella did. Nothing happened.
In fact, it took so long that she had almost forgotten the wheeze. Then one night in November, she got a phone call out of the blue. Would she be available that night to serve at a reception at the Landscape Gallery? Their staff had been struck by ’flu and Lottie had mentioned that Ms Greenwood might be available.
Bella consulted the coded notes she had transcribed into her own diary and saw that Richard would be going to the reception before dinner with the gallery’s director. Realistically there was not much chance of seeing him, still less managing to talk to him, she knew. Still, at least they would be in the same room and, if she got lucky, she could wave across the room at him. They had developed a series of rather good secret agents’ hand signals.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Where and when?’
They told her. Also, could she provide her own black trousers and shoes, as flat as possible? They would give her their uniform steward’s jacket, but she would need something black to wear underneath it.
Bella swapped duties with another receptionist and left work early to race home and bundle her supplies together. She did not have time to get out to the caterer’s West London headquarters, but turned up at the tradesmen’s entrance of the gallery as arranged.