‘Badger,’ said Bobby.
‘Yes, old lad.’ ‘Come here.’ The next five minutes were spent in genuine hard work. At the end often minutes Badger could repeat his instructions by heart.
When he was word perfect, Bobby got into a two-seater Flat dating from 1902 and drove dashingly down the Mews. He parked the Flat in St James’s Square and walked straight from there to his club. There he did some telephoning and a couple of hours later certain parcels were delivered to him. Finally, about half-past three, a chauffeur in dark green livery walked to St James’s Square and went rapidly up to a large Bentley which had been parked there about half an hour previously.
The parking attendant nodded to him – the gentleman who had left the car had remarked, stammering slightly as he did so, that his chauffeur would be fetching it shortly.
Bobby let in the clutch and drew neatly out. The abandoned Flat still stood demurely awaiting its owner. Bobby, despite the intense discomfort of his upper lip, began to enjoy himself. He headed north, not south, and, before long, the powerful engine was forging ahead on the Great North Road.
It was only an extra precaution that he was taking. He was pretty sure that he was not being followed. Presently he turned off to the left and made his way by circuitous roads to Hampshire.
It was just after tea that the Bentley purred up the drive of Merroway Court, a stiff and correct chauffeur at the wheel.
‘Hullo,’ said Frankie lightly. There’s the car.’ She went out to the front door. Sylvia and Roger came with her.
‘Is everything all right, Hawkins?’ The chauffeur touched his cap.
‘Yes, m’lady. She’s been thoroughly overhauled.’ ‘That’s all right, then.’ The chauffeur produced a note.
‘From his lordship, m’lady.’ Frankie took it.
‘You’ll put up at the – what is it – Anglers’ Arms in Staverley, Hawkins. I’ll telephone in the morning if I want the car.’ ‘Very good, your ladyship.’ Bobby backed, turned and sped down the drive.
‘I’m so sorry we haven’t room here,’ said Sylvia. ‘It’s a lovely car.’ ‘You get some pace out of that,’ said Roger.
‘I do,’ admitted Frankie.
She was satisfied that no faintest quiver of recognition had shown on Roger’s face. She would have been surprised if it had. She would not have recognized Bobby herself had she met him casually. The small moustache had a perfectly natural appearance, and that, with the stiff demeanour so uncharacteristic of the natural Bobby, completed the disguise enhanced by the chauffeur’s livery.
The voice, too, had been excellent, and quite unlike Bobby’s own. Frankie began to think that Bobby was far more talented than she had given him credit for being.
Meanwhile Bobby had successfully taken up his quarters at the Anglers’ Arms.
It was up to him to create the part of Edward Hawkins, chauffeur to Lady Frances Derwent.
As to the behaviour of chauffeurs in private life, Bobby was singularly ill-informed, but he imagined that a certain haughtiness would not come amiss. He tried to feel himself a superior being and to act accordingly. The admiring attitude of various young women employed in the Anglers’ Arms had a distinctly encouraging effect and he soon found that Frankie and her accident had provided the principal topic of conversation in Staverley ever since it had happened. Bobby unbent towards the landlord, a stout, genial person of the name of Thomas Askew, and permitted information to leak from him.
‘Young Reeves, he was there and saw it happen,’ declared Mr Askew.
Bobby blessed the natural mendacity of the young. The famous accident was now vouched for by an eye witness.
‘Thought his last moment had come, he did,’ went on Mr Askew. ‘Straight for him down the hill it come – and then took the wall instead. A wonder the young lady wasn’t killed.’ ‘Her ladyship takes some killing,’ said Bobby.
‘Had many accidents, has she?’ ‘She’s been lucky,’ said Bobby. ‘But I assure you, Mr Askew, that when her ladyship’s taken over the wheel from me as she sometimes does – well, I’ve made sure my last hour has come.’ Several persons present shook their heads wisely and said they didn’t wonder and it’s just what they would have thought.