Radiant in her violet Chanel suit, huge amethysts at her ears and neck, soft brown curls framing her round-eyed rosy face, a mauve pashmina carefully concealing her large bottom, she paused in Commotion’s entrance a good twenty minutes – thus enabling even the Christian Science Monitor and the Osh Kosh Gazette to get their pictures. Then, telling the cheering crowd she had no time for autographs, she swept through the museum, ignoring even the most outrageous exhibits until she reached her own, which was still concealed by its pale blue curtains. Delighted to see her elusive artist for once on parade and looking so tidy and handsome, Hermione kissed Jonathan full on the mouth, smearing him with ruby-red lipstick. Furiously, Jonathan wiped it off with his sleeve. That would be the clip Emerald was bound to see on the ten o’clock news tonight. ‘Good people, good people!’ Dame Hermione clapped her hands, accepted a glass of champagne, took a hefty slug, then waited until as many people as possible had crowded into the room.
