The voice was not friendly. Kate turned from the sink to see Dennis, the Foreign Office butler, lips pursed and eyes narrowed behind his designer frames.

 

Hell, she thought. Why him? Why couldn’t I have had Tom, or Rodrigo? Dennis was the Head Butler and a pain. She reached round her back for the dishcloth tucked into her apron. Drying her hands, she said,

 

‘Hello, Dennis. I didn’t know you were here. It’s only a working lunch isn’t it?’

 

‘This is One Carlton Gardens,’ he replied, ‘and the official residence of the Foreign Secretary. We have standards to maintain.’

 

Kate, knowing she must work with the man, said evenly, ‘And I will not let you down. Don’t worry. But I did clear my waitressing with Julian, and I’ll wear a black apron over the top. It’ll be fine.’

 

Dennis gave his head a little shake of disapproval. He did not like the Facilities Manager, to whom they all reported.

 

Kate said, ‘Of course if you want to do it, that would be wonderful, but as it’s  such a tiny job, I said I could manage on my own.’ Better lay it on thick, she thought , and added, ‘I’m sure you’ve got much more important stuff to see to.’