which, who appoints those governors? I warrant itâs the government, yes? So all the more argument for a government more sympathetic to business interests.â
âAh, itâs a bit trickier than that,â Reith said, chuckling and shaking his head. It was impossible to tell if he agreed or was simply trying to end the discussion. Maisie suspected this was the technique he employed when meeting with the governors themselves, and wished she could see it in person. She couldnât resist tagging after them into the corridor, seizing a folder to lend credence to her activity.
âSee here, Reith,â Hoppel went on, undeterred. âYouâve got to come to one of our political meetings. You keep saying youâre keen, but you donât follow through.â He sucked on his pipe and blew a smoke ring.
âYes, I do apologize,â Reith said. âMy schedule is a barely tamed beast, for one, but I do need to be a little mindful, too. I canât be seen supporting a nontraditional political party. Must maintain the proper image.â For punctuation, he pulled out his pocket watch, shook his head at the time, then tucked it back in his waistcoat.
âExactly,â said Hoppel. âThe image of a right-minded man, the sort to make sure this country runs as it ought to. Ah, Reith, I know youâre not your own master entirelyâI suppose few of us areâbut it comforts me, having a man like you in a place like this. Bodes well for the future.â
Reith laughed agreeably and shook Hoppelâs hand as he called for the lift. Maisie hurried downstairs to avoid being seen when Reith turned, and then struck a circuitous route back. She passed Sound Effects just as Fowler was leaving. He brightened on seeing her. âHullo. Have you got something for us?â
âOh, I . . . No, actually. Sorry.â
He frowned. âYou in Talks need to put on a better show. Dramaand Schools are constantly giving us marvelous challenges. Yours are the best when they happen, but they are far too rare.â
âIâll let Miss Matheson know.â
Not that Talks was short on challenges. The following week, Maisie was leaving the tearoom, brushing crumbs from her skirt, when Hilda came at her at a dead run, looped her arm through Maisieâs, and barreled her down to Talks.
âBit of a crisis, Iâm afraid,â Hilda explained, though she didnât look afraid at all. She was glowing hot with excitement.
âOh, excellent. Reinforcements,â Fielden said with heavy sarcasm on seeing Maisie. âAre you sure you donât want to ask any of the cleaning crew to help?â
âMr. Fielden,â Hilda said, and it was enough to silence him. She parked Maisie in front of a telephone and handed her a list of names, phone exchange codes, and a steno pad. âSomehow a program on Turkey has been thrust upon us, and itâs all hands on deck for research.â
Turkey?
Fielden sniggered at Maisieâs expression.
âThe nation, Miss Musgrave, not the Christmas dinner.â
What a shame. Itâd be so nice to shove a whole turkey in his mouth
.
Hilda ignored him. âWe must find someone, preferably Turkish, who can speak at length, be comprehensible, and be interesting. Oh, and some music. One of those silly exotic restaurants will have a player or a group. Just be sure they are genuine. And some poetry or a reading from a novel, that will be nice.â
âThere doesnât seem to be anything original,â Fielden informed her in his most dour tones. âIâm just off to Kingâs College and the library to be sure.â
âGood.â Hilda nodded, frowning at her watch. âIâll have to cancel my lunch, poor Fred.â She turned back to Maisie. âReady to begin?â
The only thing Maisie felt ready to do was hyperventilate.Answering a phone was one thingâwhich Miss Shields didnât allow
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