[MaC] Even more guests arrive

[Mel Mason]

James walked away from the mirror and to the door.  Opening it, he
looked to each side of the apartment, as was always his wont.  Looking
in the direction of the lift, he smiled and gave a nod to Oswald and
Lucinda as he approached.

"Mrs and Mrs Skeffington-Nottle, a pleasure to see you this evening." he
said as he reached them.

"Shall we, take the lift together?" he offered, his voice just above the
clanking of the rising lift.


"Let's," agreed Lucinda with her friendly smile.  "Isn't it kind of the 
Fitzroys to ask everyone to a party?  Just the thing we need to cheer us up 
... it does seem horried to have Christmas in the middle of a war!"

"Lou's missing our youngsters," added Oswald.  "They're down in Hampshire 
with her folks."

He slid the iron grille door across and pressed the button for the fifth 
floor.  "We should have some decent drink tonight too," he added. 
"Theatrical types, you know.  Although I must say old Fotzroy has never 
struck me as a particularly sensitive soul.  Still, can't be all bad if he's 
having us all round for drinks."

The lift slowly began to ascend ...


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


> Even though he was running late, Cyril savored the feeling of dressing
> formally once again.  There was a time when it was commonplace.  Back
> when times were good.  The Depression and then the war had made it
> tough to run a business.  Parker & Beaman, Ltd. had managed to hold on
> so far, but only just.  It wasn't just the war that caused the lack of
> help, though Florence didn't know that.  Cyril had had to sack all but
> a skeleton crew to save money.  Nowadays, he was getting his hands
> dirtier than he had since his Navy days in the Great War.
>
> When he was finally ready, Cyril grandly offered his arm to Florence
> and they breezed off to the Fitzroy party - which was right next door.
> Florence rang the bell.
>

There was a pause, and then the door was opened by their neighbour, Anton 
Barowenski.  He bowed slightly.

"Our host is otherwise engaged," he said with a slight smile.  "I am 
performing the duties of footman.  In wartime we must all take what we can 
get, it seems ...  "

He paused as the clanking sounds from the lift indicated that it was getting 
closer.  Presently it emerged into view, and even before the iron grille 
slid open they could all see that it contained James Drake and the 
Skeffington-Nottles.

"Allow me to escort you upstairs," said Anton Barowenski with a little bow, 
even as the lift began to clank its way down to pick up the next group of 
guests.

"Thanks," said Oswald.  "I'm looking forward to this!  Will you be playing, 
Mr Barowenski?"

The Polish concert pianist bowed slightly.  "I have been requested to," he 
responded, and there was no mistaking the faint irony in his tone on the 
word 'request' - the implication being that it had been more of a command 
than a request.

He indicated the stairs to the upper floor.  "The party is in the lounge," 
he said.  "I shall await the remaining guests."  He smiled faintly.  "If one 
of you gentlemen has a cigarette to spare?  I seem to be quite out ... "


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When this group arrived, they found Hodges, the flats' maintenance man, 
solemnly mixing drinks for Nicola Diamond and Majorie Higgins, the post 
woman who lived on the ground floor, while Marty Fitzroy gazed avariciously 
at Miss Diamond.  Also present was the dark young American from Flat 11, 
Braham Davis and - as usual in the background - Mrs Esme Fitzroy.