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Elizabeth noticed that the study door was ajar. There was a swift knock, then Bill and Jasper came in.

‘I came to check on Dad and I found Jasper outside,’ Bill explained.

‘Oh, that’s very sweet of you to worry about your grandpa, Jasper darling. I’m fine. I just overexerted myself. I forget that I’m not your age anymore.’ Neville winked. ‘Now run along and find your cousin. Later, I want you to help me pick out a Christmas jumper – I’ve heard it’s a tradition to find the ugliest one you can.’

Jasper glanced at Bill, who nodded. ‘Yes, go and find the others. Then why don’t you go outside and climb a tree or something? Find something wholesome to do that doesn’t involve a screen. You’re always on that bloody phone.’

He went to swipe it from Jasper’s hand, but Jasper was too quick, racing away down the corridor. Bill closed the door firmly behind him.

‘Right, Dad, now that Jasper’s gone I want to hear the truth. What’s going on?’

‘You know what’s going on, I—’

‘Bill, don’t pressure your father,’ Elizabeth interjected, sharply. ‘Now’s not the time.’

‘Mummy, if things are worse than we thought, then Tara and I need to be told. It’s only fair that we’re kept informed.’

‘What are you talking about? This is my health. I’ve already told you, my blood pressure is a little high – which is only to be expected in a man of my age, with a bloody stressful family,’ Neville added, with a pointed look at Bill. ‘But I’m taking my tablets like a good chap and the doctors are monitoring everything.’

‘And have you …’ Bill swallowed, looking uncomfortable, but pushed on. ‘And have you made suitable arrangements? If the worst happens?’

‘William!’ Elizabeth burst out.

‘It’s not unreasonable of me to ask.’

‘Perhaps if you’d made a success of your own life you wouldn’t be worrying about trying to get your hands on my money,’ Lord Oliver exploded. ‘Came to see if I was at death’s door, did you?’

Elizabeth’s cheeks were flushed with anxiety. ‘Stop it, both of you!’

Bill’s expression was mutinous. ‘I’m thinking about Jasper and his future.’

‘How dare you treat me like a senile idiot! You’re thinking about how to get your grubby hands on your inheritance as fast as you possibly can!’

‘Let’s all calm down,’ Elizabeth pleaded, deciding once again to change the subject. ‘I’ve just been speaking to Fliss,’ she began, with a pointed look at her husband.

‘Ah, Fliss! Where is she? I haven’t seen her since breakfast.’

‘She was catching up with the girls, and now she’s gone into the village with Kit to do some Christmas shopping.’

‘Fliss and Kit have gone into the village together?’ Bill remarked, raising his eyebrows. ‘Don’t you think there’s something odd about Fliss being here? I mean, why did she come back to England for Christmas?’

‘She told us,’ Neville replied evenly. ‘She had burnout from her work. She’s taking a mental health break. Personally, I think it’s a very sensible decision. Being at the top of your game and under constant pressure takes its toll. But you wouldn’t know about that, would you, Bill?’

His father’s barb clearly hit home, but Bill chose to ignore it. ‘And you believe her, do you? That that’s the reason? I can’t help feeling that there’s something else going on.’

‘Oh darling, don’t be ridiculous,’ said Elizabeth.

‘Have you seen the articles about her? People are suggesting all kinds of things. That she’s an addict, or that she’s—’

‘That’s quite enough!’ Lord Oliver roared, getting to his feet. ‘This conversation is closed. If the two of you wouldn’t mind, I’d like some peace and quiet to manage my correspondence. Some of us have jobs to do, which I hope to continue doing, before you drive me into an early grave – which might be the intention.’

‘Dad, I didn’t mean …’ Bill stopped talking when he saw the look on his father’s face; Neville suddenly looked every one of his eighty-three years. ‘Fine. I was leaving anyway. There’s something I need to do,’ he said thoughtfully, striding out of the study.

Lady Oliver watched as her husband picked up his pile of papers and started to sort through it silently – a well-known communication which told her she was no longer required. But nothing could hide the pronounced tremor in his hands as he held one of the letters. She felt a tightness in her own chest.

‘I’ll leave you to it then, darling,’ she said, as she kissed her husband on the cheek and he sat back down at his desk. Order was restored, unhappiness swept under the carpet. They were doing what they had always done: keeping up appearances at all costs.

But as Elizabeth left the room, she reflected that she was tired of staying silent. The family secrets were in danger of spilling out, and this time she wasn’t going to fight to put them back in their box.