I looked down at the card again, hoping that maybe it might have disappeared or changed its message. But there it was still, like a massive viper just waiting to bite me. Maybe it was merely a joke. Maybe he wouldn’t show up here after all. Yes, that had to be it. He probably was having fun with his drinking buddies from the regiment, imagining my face at this very moment.
Resolutely, I crumpled the card and dumped it into my empty porridge bowl.
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ remarked Maria sweetly. ‘In your place, I would have framed it and hung it on the wall - because of the scarcity value, you know.’
Not deigning to give her a reply, I rushed out of the room and into the garden. I did not have the time for either her or the oh-so-funny Lieutenant Ellingham at the moment. It was only an hour till nine o'clock and I needed to get changed.
If I remembered correctly, Mr Ambrose didn’t tolerate tardiness.
Wisely I had stashed the clothes I had borrowed from my uncle in the garden shed. Nobody ever came in there, so I changed in the dusty little wooden shack without fear of discovery. I was quite glad, in fact, that I wasn’t putting on the baggy, striped trousers and oversized jacket in my room: there, I couldn’t have helped looking in the mirror. Oh, how I was looking forward to receiving my first pay cheque and buying clothes in which I could pass for an actual gentleman, not just a scarecrow wearing rags three sizes too big for her. Or him. Depending on your point of view.
Completely attired, I left the garden through the little back door in the wall. This time I had ample time to walk, which was fortunate since I most certainly did not have ample money to pay for another cab ride. I reached Empire House by about a quarter before nine. In the entrance hall, which was as busy as ever, Sallow-face at the front desk let me pass without comment. He had accepted me, apparently. Why couldn’t his master do the same?
Maybe because he’s an arrogant bastard. Or maybe because he knows you’re a girl. Most probably both.
But I would be damned if I put up with this any longer! Oh no. I’d force him to look at me, to accept me, to work with me as he would with any man!
Smiling to myself, I began to ascend the stairs. I knew exactly what I had to do. Since he always locked the door connecting our offices, I would take another route and march in through the main door. Simple. Mr Stone wouldn’t dare stop me, I’m sure. He wasn’t as tough as Sallow-face. And then I would give Mr Rikkard Ambrose a piece of my mind!
My brilliant plan was smashed into ruins, however, as soon as I stepped into the long hallway at the top of the stairs. Everything was exactly as it should be - Mr Stone was behind his desk, all the doors were closed, the stone walls were still made of bare stone, and the floors were still horizontal. Yes, everything was as it was supposed to be - except for the massive figure towering behind Mr Stone, right in front of Mr Ambrose’s office door.
The mountainous dark-skinned man wouldn’t have needed to wear his turban or sabre for me to recognize him on the spot; I remembered him all too well. Nevertheless, Karim’s accessories looked impressive. Considerably more impressive than the top hat I had with me.
Swallowing my apprehension, I walked down the hall.
‘Good Morning, Mr Stone,’ I said.
‘Good Morning, Mr Linton.’
I stepped past his desk and tried to move towards the office door. Karim did not budge an inch.
‘Excuse me, you’re standing in my way,’ I said.
‘Yes,’ he growled. He wasn’t looking at me, but staring straight ahead, which meant he was focusing on a point some five inches above my top hat. He really was big. Too big.
‘Well, would you mind getting out of the way?’ I persisted, trying to shove past him towards the door.
‘Yes.’
‘But I have to speak to Mr Ambrose.’
‘Yes?’
‘Yes, I do. So will you let me into the office?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
At last he seemed to feel that my question merited more than a single syllable. Still staring straight ahead, he proclaimed: ‘Mr Ambrose is busy.’
‘With what?’
‘With business.’
‘Well, thank you very much for that informative answer! When will he be finished, do you think?’
‘Mr Ambrose is busy for a long time.’
‘He has been like this all day,’ Mr Stone whispered when I turned away angrily. ‘I must say I am quite perturbed. Karim is Mr Ambrose’s man for… special tasks. You know, um… dangerous matters?’
He looked around anxiously as if waiting for an assassin to spring from the shadows.
‘He has never been posted here yet, Mr Linton. I am afraid that Mr Ambrose perceives some terrible threat to his person.’
Oh yes, a very terrible threat, I thought, staring venomously at the bearded figure in front of the door. A girl who doesn't want to be called 'Mister' all day! Mr Ambrose’s man for special tasks indeed!
‘Well, I’ll just have to talk to him later then,’ I said to Mr Stone, trying to rein in my stormy temper. ‘I’d better get into my office and start working.’
‘Oh yes, your work!’ Mr Stone slapped his forehead. ‘I almost forgot. These arrived for Mr Ambrose early this morning.’
And he held out a bunch of letters. My brow furrowed in thought. Somewhere I had heard of this. Secretaries took care of their employer’s correspondence, didn’t they? But what exactly did they do with the letters? Read them? Answer them? Eat them for breakfast?
‘Um… what am I supposed do with them?’ I asked.
If Mr Stone found the question strange, he didn’t let on.
‘You are to separate the important from the unimportant, and only the former is to be given to Mr Ambrose.’
Taking the letters, I inquired: ‘And how am I to know what Mr Ambrose considers important?’
He gave me a little smile. ‘The answer to that question will determine how long you keep your job here. Good luck.’
With that he sat down and returned to his own work. I strode over to the door that lead to the room I still had difficulty thinking of as ‘my office’. But it was. I had an office! Me! Sweet little me! Now all I had to do was keep it…
I laid the ominous pile of letters on my yes - yes, my desk! - and started looking through them.