The Blood Royal
“Steward-in-chief, as he styled himself, was one rung in the hierarchy below the manager (a gentleman whose position Charles had in his sights). He was standing, gold pocket watch in left hand, notes, which he was never observed to consult, in right, an ear ostentatiously cocked towards the double doors that communicated with the Grand Salon.He listened to the God-awful piece of Scottish misery thrashing itself to a climax – he was glad he’d held out against the bagpipes – and with a flick of a ...finger dissuaded a flunkey from fiddling nervously with the door handle. The voice of his old sergeant rang in his head: ‘Wait for it! Wait for it, laddie!’Timing. It was everything. He’d learned that much from the army. When to make an appearance and when to disappear. The day after his demob, he’d presented himself at the hotel where he’d worked before the war. And, with his luck, the incumbent steward had been on the point of retiring. It hadn’t taken much of an effort to gain the old boy’s support with the management.MoreLess
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