[MaC] Arriving at the Party ... Arabella, Pamela, Michael & Philip

[Mel Mason]

>> >> "Good evening, ladies. Happy Christmas," Michael greeted as he joined
>> >> them in waiting for the lift. He looked up and said, "Seems some of
>> >> the others are on their way already."
>> >
>> >
>> > "And a Happy Christmas to you, Group Captain," Arabella said with a
>> > smile. "It does look as if there will be a good turnout... As far as
>> > that goes, I think this party may be a very good thing. We all know
>> > we're at war, but fellowship and celebration are things worth fighting
>> > for, don't you think?"
>>
>>        Pamela repressed a salute, murmuring a polite greeting instead. 
>> One
>> would not have thought that a woman taller and more imposing than her
>> mother could so easily disappear into the background behind her.
>>
>>        The lift bobbed to a stop and opened; Pamela stepped aside to let 
>> her
>> mother go before her, brushing past Coldsmith-Briggs with a murmured
>> apology as she followed.
>>
Michael looked happy and his smile spread in a devil may care manneras he
joined the women in the lift. Taking Pamela's hand he lifted it to his lips
gently, "That and the favors of a beautiful woman."

"You ladies both look smashing this evening," he said with a wink to Pamela
as he released her hand and looked back to the Dowager.

"If nothing else happens this evening, I'm sure to be complimented for
thecompany I arrive with."

The lift rose steadily through the block until it reached the fifth floor.
There, as they disembarked, they saw that the door of the Fitzroys' flat was
open, and Anton Barowenski, a cigarette in one hand, was deep in
conversation with Miss Nola Diamond, the film actress and another of Marty
Fitzroy's clients.  Both fell silent as the other three joined them - a
silence broken only by the clank of the lift as it started back down again
.. and steps on the stairs.

"Everyone is in the lounge," said Barowenski.  "Perhaps you would care to
join them."  He seemed slightly agitated.

The RAF officer, Philip Powell, appeared at this point rounded the corner of
the stairs, having climbed from his floor.

"Excuse me," said Nola.  "I look a fright - I'll go and powder my nose."

Nothing could, in fact, have been further from the truth - she looked
radiant.  But she slipped away down the corridor towards the bathroom.
Barowenski shrugged.

"She is wishing to make an entrance," he said.  "She is a star."

He indicated the stairs.  "We should go up, perhaps.  Most are here, I
think."