arrive.â
Daniel buttered a slice of toast. âNo harm will come of it. Bertha is like a mother to her. And Jim possesses a profound understanding of human nature. My daughter stands to gain an all-round education. Anyway, I think you should drop the ballet lessons. She clearly loathes them.â
Edwina flinched at the motherhood reference but decided to stick to her main gripe. âAll-round education. Ha. Donât make me laugh. Caterinaâs tutors are far too radical and lenient. They donât discipline her and sheâs getting the sort of education better suited to a young man.â
âThatâs what I pay them for. Cat is mature for her age and needs intellectual stimulation.â
Edwina flung her napkin down and glared at him. âFor Godâs sake, Danny. Sheâs running wild and needs to be tamed. Sent to a prestigious boarding school where she can learn feminine skills, deportment and ballroom dancing. She needs to have the assertiveness knocked out of her, mix with her equals and learn to conform.â
As usual Daniel folded his newspaper, finished his coffee and stood up. He kissed Edwina lightly on the top of her blonde head. He enjoyed a little cut and thrust in the mornings. It kept him on his toes.
It was Catâs eighth Christmas. Down on the street, with her nose in a cup of brandy eggnog and an endless supply of petit meat pies on hand, she felt like sheâd died and gone to heaven. The occasion was especially thrilling because Edwina didnât have a clue she was on the street.
Cat had become used to the musty, animal stench of her fellow spectators and found it reassuringly familiar. The odour was similar to that of her pet guinea pigs. She liked loitering around the red carpet, getting tipsy and eavesdropping on conversations. One street beggar told another, âThereâs too many fucking cloves in the mulled wine this year. I am going to put in a complaint to Danny Boy. Itâs making me fucking teeth numb.â
âTypical. Danny turns on a free feed and all you can do is whinge. The reason youâre feeling no pain is because youâre on your sixth cup of plonk.â
Henri Dupont stood at the top of the stairs and greeted the wealthy clientele. He pretended not to see Cat in the crowd below. When questioned by Edwina, he was in the habit of cheerfully denying all knowledge of her whereabouts. However, he discreetly signalled the hotel dick. âJim, our girl is down there. Keep an eye on her, will you? We donât want her carried off by an opportunistic paedophile.â
âTo be sure, Comrade.â
Jim Blade slipped into the crowd, located Cat and latched onto a cup of mulled wine. His job at this time of year was remarkably rewarding. He loved Christmas for not only was it an excuse for getting crapulous but it was also the premier season for knifings, suicides and all manner of family homicide. The festive season ignited the simmering hostilities that people had kept under wraps all year. Adultery, divorce, whore-mongering, skirt-chasing and blatant affairs with other menâs wives and mistresses were the order of the season. Lovers turned on each other with a vengeance that was hard to believe. The hotel was full of it. Jim smacked his lips and hummed, âTis the season to be jolly, tra la la la la . . . la la la la.â
He winked at Cat and she sidled closer so she could slip her small hand into his big, warm paw. In companionable silence they watched as a luminescent actress wiggled her way up the red-carpeted stairs. The long, tight gown forced her to take tiny geisha steps. Her shapely bottom seemed to have a life of its own and her diamond earrings glinted wickedly under the lights.
Cat sighed with pleasure. âMary knows how to walk like that. She taught me how she does it in deportment classes. But those girls do it with books balanced on their heads. I can do it with the family Bible on
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