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‘That’s not fair. I’ve been working.’

‘All right, don’t rub it in. You’ve been working, and I haven’t. Your career’s so much more successful than mine but I do work too, you know.’

‘I never said you didn’t. But you weren’t working this morning and I was …’

They were still arguing, despite their pledge not to, as Kit pulled up on the half-moon sweep of gravel beside Bill and Sally’s Land Rover.

For Kit, arriving at Clarendon Hall felt like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. Being cooped up with his wife and in-laws meant he was unlikely to get any respite from the stress and arguments over the festive period. Lord and Lady Oliver had been good to him over the years, but there was no doubt that everyone lived in their world. Kit consoled himself with the thought that at least it was an enormous house; hopefully he would get a chance to slip away and have a little time to himself.

‘Daddy!’ Tara cried, as they all bustled into the grand entrance hall. It looked beautiful, as it did every year, with the towering Christmas tree trimmed in red and gold and garlands of pine and berries threaded through the banister of the sweeping staircase. A bunch of mistletoe with its distinctive white berries hung above the roaring fireplace, and on the mantelpiece a bowl of oranges studded with cloves and star anise gave off the most wonderful scent.

The Olivers certainly knew how to put on a show, Kit thought ruefully, and their annual Betwixtmas Ball was always spectacular. They were incredibly well connected, with guests from the worlds of politics and journalism, theatre and literature, as well as locals from the nearby village of Chipping Moreton.

‘Kit, good to see you,’ Lord Oliver said, clapping him on the back before the two of them shook hands. Kit noticed that Neville had aged considerably since they had last seen him a couple of months ago. He looked tired, as though he had just woken up from a nap, and he was gaunt, his grey hair thinning, but the old man still cut a formidable figure. Fortunately, the two of them had always got along, but Kit knew it would make his head spin how quickly he would be frozen out of the family if he ever got on his father-in-law’s bad side.

‘Kit, darling, you’re as handsome as ever!’ Lady Oliver smiled as she came towards him, perfectly coiffed and smelling of rosewater. ‘And how’s my darling grandson?’ she asked, moving on to George and ruffling his hair affectionately.

‘Sally,’ Kit smiled, greeting his sister-in-law warmly. She was what everyone referred to as ‘a good egg’, kind and organised, keeping everyone together. Kit looked pointedly at Tara, and she glared back at him.

‘Yes, all right Kit, I know,’ she muttered, turning to Sally. ‘My husband says I need to apologise to you about the customs cock-up, but I’m sure you know it was just an honest mistake. It could have happened to anyone, frankly. Those bloody forms are so confusing. Besides, I’m sure it’s all sorted now.’

Sally smiled resignedly, and Kit knew that she was too nice to say what she was really thinking. ‘Well, almost sorted,’ she said. ‘We missed our slot with the installation firm, and I had to pay a ton of cash to speed up the customs process so—’

‘I said I was sorry! No need to keep going on about it. It’s Christmas, for God’s sake!’ Tara interrupted her. ‘Isn’t anyone going to offer me a drink? I need one after that hellish car journey.’

Kit shot a look of sympathy at Sally as he tried to push down his frustration at his wife’s behaviour. The power balance between him and Tara always swung wildly in her favour when they were at Clarendon Hall. Here, all the advantages of her wealth and background were very evidently on display, rubbing Kit’s face in the fact that she had been born into this world and he hadn’t. He was an outsider, only here because of Tara. No matter how high he rose in his career, how many stellar reviews he received or awards he won, he would never have that same inbuilt entitlement. Besides, Tara was the apple of her father’s eye, and Kit knew that Lord Oliver would always side with her, no matter how terrible her behaviour.

Kit followed everyone through to the drawing room, which was cosy and full of character, the fire crackling in the grate as Tara helped herself to a gin and tonic from the drinks trolley.

‘Does anyone know what time Katie and Harry are arriving?’ she called out.

‘Not until tomorrow,’ Sally replied. ‘They were hoping to make it today, but were running behind. They’ll set off first thing in the morning, according to Katie.’

Tara raised her eyebrows, taking a long swallow of her G&T. Kit felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Bill.

‘Can I get you a snifter?’ he asked.

‘Brandy with ice, thanks,’ Kit replied, walking over to the drinks cabinet with Bill. He didn’t naturally click with his brother-in-law, but right now it felt good to have an ally.

‘So, how’s everything in the world of swords and sorcery soap operas?’ Bill asked, with an affected accent. ‘Still getting your kicks from blue screen acting and Middle Earth cos-play?’

‘I’m still acting, if that’s what you mean,’ Kit replied good-naturedly. ‘Actually, I’ve just wrapped on a new historical drama for HBO, opposite Keira Knightley. It’ll be out next autumn.’

‘Keira Knightley?’ Bill raised his eyebrow. ‘Lucky you. What’s she like, I mean really like?’

‘She’s great, Bill. Charming, and professional,’ Kit said, with emphasis.

‘How about you, Tara?’ Bill called across the room to his sister. ‘Are you working?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact. I’ve just been cast in a new detective drama for the Roku Channel.’

‘Sounds wonderful,’ Bill said, barely trying to hide a snigger.

‘Congratulations, darling,’ said Elizabeth, raising her glass in Tara’s direction. ‘That sounds super. When do you start filming?’

‘In the new year. It’s being shot in the Midlands.’

‘Goodness. I’m sure Kit will miss you.’