Glenda took this opportunity to get out of Mrs Whitlow's way. She was not pleased to see that Trev and Juliet had already taken a slightly earlier opportunity to get out of hers.
'Do not worry about Juliet,' said Nutt, who had followed her.
'Who said I was worried?' Glenda snapped.
'You did. Your expression, your stance, the set of your body, your... reactions, your tone of voice. Everything.'
'You have no business to be looking at my everything¨CI mean the set of my body!'
'It is simply the way you stand, Miss Glenda.'
'And you can read my mind?'
'It may appear that way. I am so sorry.'
'And Juliet. What was she thinking?'
'I am not sure, but she likes Mister Trev, she thinks he is funny.'
'So have you read Trev's everything? Bet that was a dirty book!'
'Er, no, miss. He is worried and confused. I would say he is trying to see what kind of man he is going to be.'
'Really? He's always been a scallywag.'
'He is thinking of his future.'
Across the Hall, the big doors opened just as the last scurrying servants reached their stations.
This made no impression on Glenda, lost in thought as she wrestled with the prospect that a leopard might change his shorts. He has been a bit quiet lately, I must admit. And he did write her that lovely poem... That should mean a lot, a poem. Who'd have thought it? It's not like him at all -
With atomic speed Nutt was suddenly missing, and the doors stood wide, and here came the captains with their retinues, and all of them were nervous and some of them were wearing unaccustomed suits, and some of them were walking a little unsteadily even now, because the wizards' idea of an aperitif had bite, and in the kitchen plates would be being filled and the chefs would be cursing and the ovens clanging as they... as they... What was the menu, anyway?
Life as an unseen part of Unseen University was a matter of alliances, feuds, obligations and friendships, all stirred and twisted and woven together.
Glenda was good at it. The Night Kitchen had always been generous to other toilers and right now the Great Hall owed her favours, even if all she had done was keep her mouth shut. Now she bore down on Shiny Robert, one of the head waiters, who gave her the cautious nod due to someone who knew things about you that you wouldn't want your mother to know.
'Got a menu?' she asked. One was produced from under a napkin. She read it in horror.
'That's not the stuff they like!'
'Oh dear, Glenda,' Robert smirked. 'Are you saying it's too good for them?'
'You're giving them Avec. Nearly every dish has got Avec in it, but stuff with Avec in the name is an acquired taste. I mean, do these look to you like people who habitually eat in a foreign language? Oh dear, and you are giving them beer! Beer with Avec!'
'A choice of wines is available. They are choosing beer,' said Robert coldly.
Glenda stared at the captains. They seemed to be enjoying themselves now. Here was free food and drink and if the food tasted strange there was plenty of it, and the beer tasted welcomely familiar and there was lots of that, too.
She didn't like this. Heavens knew that football had got pretty disgusting these days, but... well, she couldn't quite work out what she was uneasy about, but -
' 'scuse me, miss?'
She looked down. A young footballer had decided to confide in the only uniformed woman he could see who was not carrying at least two plates at once.
'Can I help?'
He lowered his voice. 'This chutney tastes of fish, miss.'