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She giggled. ‘You don’t mean to say those frightful stage hypnotists are fakes?’
I shrugged. ‘It depends. If you see inconsistencies, then it’s a fakery. If you don’t, it isn’t.’
‘Inconsistencies such as?’
‘If a hypnotized person picks up a glass of water that he has been told is battery acid and drinks it then he is not hypnotized. He is either pretending or a shill. If he refuses to drink it then he is, because he genuinely believes it is battery acid and it will harm him.’
She turned fully toward me. ‘How fascinating. And how does one become a hypnotist?’
‘I wasn’t always a hypnotist. I began as a neurologist.’
‘I like clever people and I’ve always made a beeline for them.’
I glanced at Beryl. She was now being ignored by the gentleman on her other side. Her shoulders were sodden with disappointment and humiliation. All around me bits of foreign conversation swirled. An old boy was talking about getting pissed in the Bullingdon Club, a woman had been served a nice fat red Margaux at lunch the day before, someone else was discussing his stock of rare breeds in his organic farm, another had spent fifty thousand pounds at an auction but could not remember what he bought. The hubris and rudeness of this group of people was just too much.
Beryl was a sweet person who had arrived in such high spirits, so excited to be in the presence of the ‘cream of society’. But the haves had thoroughly snubbed a have-not. I was furious on her behalf and I was damned if I would let these stuck-up bores treat her as if she was a non-person.
I picked up my glass and to the open-mouthed horror of the Baroness I excused myself, and, standing up, sauntered over to where Beryl was sitting. The entire table had fallen silent with shock.
I looked at the man on Beryl’s right. ‘I’d like to exchange places with you. I believe I’m offering a far more advantageous seating choice. You’ll be sitting next to a Baroness no less.’
There was a horrified gasp from one of the ladies on my left.
The man gaped like a caught fish. He looked around him and then incredulously at me.
‘Surely you don’t mean for me to move halfway through dinner?’ he asked as if doing so would be tantamount to committing a cardinal sin.
My eyes and jaw were answer enough.
Without another word and with stony-eyed resentment he pushed his chair back and walked around to my seat. I took his place and winked at Beryl. ‘I thought you looked a bit lonely,’ I said.
She grinned suddenly, her whole face lighting up. Around us servants were busy moving plates and cutlery to accommodate the switch.
I glanced up to catch the waiter’s eye and met Olivia’s eyes instead. For a second we stared at each other then I moved my gaze along and met Ivana’s regard. Her expression was carefully veiled. Only a mask of social politeness was on display. She raised her eyebrows slightly at me. It was impossible to say what she intended to convey with this subtle gesture.
After dinner the men and the women separated as if we were still stuck in Edwardian times. Without the sexual tension provided by Olivia or the warmth of Beryl I became quickly and intolerably bored. I consumed another dose of Lord Swanson’s fine Scotch and left. I couldn’t stand the smell of their cigars or their unsubtle attempts to turn me into an outsider by constantly referring to the charmed circle of people they all knew. I was an outsider. God, was I glad that I wasn’t a member of their exclusive club.
I made my way back to my room. Someone had come in, drawn the curtains, and added fresh logs to the fire. It looked cozy, but it was actually chilly. There was a distinct draft coming from somewhere. I retrieved the tooth glass from the bathroom and poured myself a glass of whiskey. I drank it by the fire staring at the dancing orange flames and considered the events of the evening.
What her brother told me put a whole different slant onto Olivia’s amnesia. I had to get to the bottom of it soon. There was very little time left before Olivia was going to insist on knowing exactly what was going on.
I felt the drink seep into my brain cells, relaxing me. I was starting to feel drowsy when there was a knock on my door. Surprised, I went to open it.
Young, haughty, dismissive, precocious Daphne was standing in the deserted corridor. I raised my eyebrows. She was the last person I expected to see outside my door. She had been such a bitch. ‘All well?’ I asked.
‘Can I come in?’
‘Sure,’ I said, opening the door wider.
She sailed in. I closed the door and leaned against it.
‘Dinner was pretty filthy,’ she said with her back to me.
‘I thought it was excellent.’
She swung around on one heel, like a dancer. ‘Are you sleeping with her?’
‘Whom did you have in mind?’ I straightened away from the door, my face expressionless.
