Meeting Harring there for a drink and a chat has always been part of my routine, but he’s not in town. He’s in Munich for the Grand Prix.
If I don’t get stuck in traffic, I’ll arrive at Denby in time to watch the Roland-Garros.
Lance has already been instructed: I’m not to be disturbed, it’s just my pizza and me.
I leave my car out front and toss the keys to John as I climb the stairs three at a time, until I reach the front door.
I’m frozen in the entrance hall as soon as I hear a female voice getting closer.
It’s my mother with her whole charity committee.
“Oh, Ashford! How nice to see you!” Lady Laetitia chirps. Lady Antonia echoes her: “A nice surprise, indeed! What are you doing around here?”
Was she lobotomised or something? “This is my house,” I reply, frowning.
“Oh, of course! What I meant is…” she replies clumsily, aware of the awkwardness of what she said and without knowing how to go on.
“Aren’t you in a meeting?” I ask, to cut things short.
“We are,” confirms my mother. “Today we are organising the charity events calendar and deciding who will run what.”
“I’m sure you’ll do a great job,” I try to end the conversation so that I can leave.
“Ashford, are you going out?” Asks Sophia from behind the group of old bags.
“Actually, I’ve just came back from a Parliamentary session.” There’s some whatshername next to Sophia who shrieks: “Oh, have you talked about something interesting?”
“Just the implementation of anti-terrorism security measures.” I say, barely holding back a snort of irritation.
“Oh, we’re so lucky that you’re in the council! When was the last time Lord Connors served? During the Crimean War?” Asks Sophia, raising a swarm of overexcited giggles.
Poor old Connors. “Admiral Connors is greatly appreciated by both Parliament and the Crown, and I think that his extensive experience in the field is particularly valuable,” I just say. I wouldn’t talk about the weather forecast with these bimbos, much less about strategic plans.
“Well, I meant that your point of view is certainly more up-to-date and dynamic,” whatshername replies.
I stare at her without answering. I can recognise a pathetic attempt to start a conversation.
I swear that even arguing with Jemma is more interesting; at least she tells me exactly what she thinks.
“Well, since you’re here, you can join us!” Suggests Sophia, causing the others to clap their hands.
“What a wonderful idea!” Chelsea agrees.
No! They can’t do this to me. “Actually… I—”
“Sophia’s right!” That bitch of my mother cuts in. “Join us, you could remind us of the dates of the other polo matches so we don’t clash with them.”
“Everything’s already marked on your events calendar, Mother,” I growl with clenched teeth.
But she pretends not to hear me. “God forbid we get confused!”
“What about Jemma? Isn’t she joining us?” Lady Audrey asks.
“I don’t think Jemma would be interested in the organisation of these events,” I object. I can’t stand the Union Jack Charity Society evenings myself, so I don’t really picture Jemma enjoying them. I can’t stand her, either, but I wouldn’t do this to my worst enemy.
“Come on, Ashford, don’t talk nonsense, it’s for charity! And she’s the new Duchess of Burlingham. Organising a fundraising evening is almost a moral obligation if she wants integrate in high society.” Lady Audrey is more and more convinced by her idea.
My mother rolls her eyes, terrified by the thought of Jemma joining her precious society of charitable exhibitionists, but Lady Antonia and Lady Audrey are pretty determined. “Well, Ashford, would you be so kind as to accompany Jemma to the tea room? We’ll see you both there in five minutes.”
