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‘What was it that Daily Mail critic said about your last West End performance, Tara?’ Bill said, with faux innocence.

‘Back off, Bill, Crispin’s well known for being a poisonous little arse. He’s a failed actor with no talent of his own, so all he can do is rip apart those of us who are doing it,’ Tara snapped. ‘And speaking of talentless, how’s your career doing, Bill? Managing to hang onto this job for longer than five minutes before they work out that you’re a waste of space?’

‘Oh, Tara darling, let’s not lower the tone too soon into the Christmas visit,’ Bill said sweetly.

‘Amen to that,’ interjected Elizabeth sharply. ‘Now, why don’t we all—’

‘Jasper, will you put that bloody thing down!’ Bill roared at his son, taking them all by surprise. Jasper sheepishly lowered his phone and slumped down in his chair.

‘Please, darling, not at the table,’ Sally added.

‘But I’m not—’ Jasper protested, before Bill interrupted once again.

‘You’re never off that bloody thing,’ he complained. ‘Always filming something.’

‘If you want to be a director you should ask Harry for tips,’ suggested Tara. ‘Which reminds me, did I tell you all I’m in the running for a film?’

‘Bridget Jones: The HRT Years?’ suggested Bill, as Sally very noticeably kicked him under the table.

‘It’s the latest one that Harry’s directing, actually,’ Tara said smugly. ‘It’s a World War Two epic – my character would be the mother of a young soldier, the main character.’

Kit frowned. ‘You didn’t mention that. Have you been cast?’

‘Not yet,’ Tara said, her bravado momentarily faltering. ‘But Harry seems pretty confident that the part’s mine.’

‘Oh God, so we all have to watch you humiliate yourself over Christmas begging for a role!’ Bill rolled his eyes. ‘Is that why Harry and Katie were invited?’

Tara reddened, and Sally jumped in to help out her sister-in-law. ‘Well, I think it sounds Oscar-worthy. Good luck to you, darling.’

‘Thank you, Sally,’ Tara replied magnanimously. ‘Of course, it does mean that I won’t be around so much to help out at Elevation.’

‘Every cloud, eh?’ Bill sniggered. His face was red, and it was clear he had had a lot to drink. He refilled his wine glass once again, as Sally looked across in frustration.

‘How did the two of you turn out to be such a disappointment,’ Lord Oliver muttered, under his breath but loud enough to be heard. Every head swivelled to the end of the table, unsure whether they had misunderstood.

‘Neville …’ Elizabeth said warningly.

‘I mean, why can’t you be more like Fliss?’ Lord Oliver continued, as Fliss looked up in surprise. ‘She’s intelligent, hard-working, successful …’

‘Neville, stop it.’ Elizabeth’s tone was sharp, enough to cut through to her husband who, like his son, looked as though he had had a glass too many.

Fliss’s cheeks flamed as everyone’s attention turned to her, confusion and resentment crackling in the air.

‘Christ, Fliss has only been here five minutes and already she’s Daddy’s favourite yet again,’ Tara said, smiling tightly.

‘I’m sure Fliss isn’t as perfect as she seems,’ Bill added casually, wiping his hands on his starched linen napkin and dropping it carelessly on the table.

‘Bill, that’s enough!’ Sally snapped.

At that moment, Mrs Matthews came in to clear the plates, returning with a main course of perfectly cooked beef Wellington, with Hasselback potatoes and carrots grown on the estate. The atmosphere shifted and the tension lifted, though Fliss found herself discomfited, wondering about the war of words that she had just been entangled in.

Tara launched into another anecdote, at slightly too loud a volume, interjected with sarcastic remarks from Bill. Fliss glanced up and caught Kit’s eye.

‘Ignore them,’ he said. ‘The Olivers like their squabbling to be a communal affair, and it will be forgotten about before Neville makes his traditional toast. Nothing’s changed,’ he smiled, nodding at where brother and sister were bickering as their mother tried to referee. ‘Except you …’ he added.

‘I haven’t changed,’ Fliss insisted.

‘You’ve come so far from the girl I used to know,’ Kit said softly. ‘And you’ve done better than I could have imagined. You reached the stars.’