‘Do you live here?’ I ask of the slim, mousey-blonde whom I’d I guess is about my age.
‘We all do.’
‘All do?’
‘Me, Mack who works the garden and Tony, the chef. You’ll enjoy his food. His honey-glazed ham is the best.’
‘That’s not the first time I’ve heard that today,’ I admit. ‘I’m Scarlett, by the way.’
‘Oh, I know.’ She glances at me without breaking pace. ‘I’m Miranda. It’s this one.’
She motions to the open door and walks back down the corridor when I step inside. The first thing I notice is the regal crystal chandeliers hanging over the sea-green, suede sofas and two large, leather chairs, one brown, one burgundy, in that 1920’s, stately-home library kind of style. The second thing I notice is the touch of Gregory’s hand on the small of my back.
‘Scarlett, I’d like you to meet Charles and Camilla.’ Surprisingly less regal than he sounds, a very ordinary man with a wealthy, rotund stomach shakes my hand, a short woman with a precisely styled bob and more diamonds on her fingers than in a De Beers window next to him.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ I tell them.
‘Camilla designed all the interiors here, Scarlett,’ Lara calls from the sofa.
‘Wow, they really are beautiful. You have such a talent.’
‘Thank you. It’s easy to decorate a beautiful home,’ Camilla says.
Charles takes a seat in the leather reading chair, picking his half-full glass of champagne from a side table and crossing one tweed leg over the other. Lara pats the space beside her on the sofa and Camilla fusses with the gold chain belt, pulling her blouse neatly onto her pleated trousers.
As I wave to Lawrence at the far side of the lounge, a familiar form stands from the sofa opposite to Lara and looks nervously around the other faces in the room before shuffling towards me.
‘Sandy.’ I throw my arms around her.
Across her shoulder, Jackson rises, still dressed as if he’s on duty in his black suit, white shirt and black tie. He nods towards me in his usual way then he, Gregory and Lara leave the room. ‘How are you?’
‘Fair to middling, as your dad would say. Lots of change: some bad, some good.’
‘I know what you mean. Have you been staying at home?’
Startled, she opens her mouth to speak then closes it again. Her cheeks flush to a beetroot shade.
‘I didn’t mean, you know, I’m just worried that you’re in the house on your own. I went back yesterday to get some things and it was… different.’
Sandy’s cheeks return to a shade of normal. ‘I couldn’t face it. Actually, I stayed here last night.’
‘Here? This house? Why?’
‘Something to do with Gregory’s work, I think.’
‘Gregory’s work?’
‘Champagne, Scarlett?’ Miranda interrupts, holding a full single flute on her black tray.
I remember waking by the fire to hear Gregory vexed on the phone to his mother.
‘Thank you. Erm, could you tell me where the ladies’ room is?’
‘I’ll take you.’
‘I’ll be right back,’ I say to Sandy as she holds out a hand to take my champagne.
‘You can just point it out to me,’ I say quietly as I follow Miranda out of the room.
