He’d been here before. There was no good place to be as a working class man at the mercy of his ‘betters’ whims. The second Schneider slowed her speech down for her ‘friend,’ the situation was clear: this was one of the McPadraics, and he had just become the fall guy of their mischief were Arthur to find out.

The polite smile faltered. His mouth became an outright line when Ms. McPadraic pointed out the obvious.

“Ahmet? You?” she laughed. “Why didn’t you say so! Oh, do you still make those cookies? Those, uh, the ones with the apricots!”

Ahmet sucked his teeth, schooling the polite smile back on his face and clasping his hands before himself. His eyes flicked minutely to Ms. McPadraic.

“The English prefer to eat with their eyes.”

Nadia huffed.

“And the Germans?” she countered, hands on her hips.

“It’s all sausage,” he answered with a hint of a smirk.

Nadia shook her head.

“Let’s see some of those cookies.”

He looked directly at Alexandra this time, then turned from the hook he had just been about to hang his jacket on. The others had already scattered, no doubt with more haste whilst their chef had served as a handy distraction.

“How is Pendergast? My sister wanted to go there, but Filigran won out.”

Alexandra may or may not have heard of a similar German school for nubile young women.