Lotte was struggling to comprehend how a telephone could be jangling in the middle of a forest. The elf standing before her was holding the device up to her. Gradually, Lotte began to grasp the fact that the forest and the elf existed only in Dreamland but the wretched telephone kept ringing. Her taxi from the club had delivered her back home at around 3am and she had no idea what time it was now.

She reached out a slender, bare arm and mumbled something into the receiver. The voice on the other end of the line was chirpy and wide awake.

“Hello, Old Girl, hope it’s not a bad time. Just letting you know that we will be arresting your old chum, Daffers, at the weekend along with her Red pals. Thought you might like to be out of London so you aren’t caught in the net.”

The British upper classes are a very small club and Lotte could think of at least three places where she could wangle an invitation for the weekend. She decided to lunch at a place she knew just off Pall Mall.

Lotte was only just inside the door when a shrill voice rang out.

“Lotte, Dahling. Haven’t seen you for simply ages. Do come and join us.”

Over a simple but scrumptious chicken salad with some excellent wine, Lady Radford said that Lotte simply must be a part of the shooting weekend which was happening that very weekend in the New Forest based at the Radford family seat.

Radford Hall was built for a courtier of Elizabeth I and most of its bedrooms were full for that weekend with the “in” crowd. Lotte homed in on Tommy Stratford who would be an idiot even if he didn’t snort cocaine but he was perfect for what Lotte had in mind.

The pair of them played tennis on the Saturday morning and Lotte made sure that Tommy won although she could have beaten him easily.