Page 6

Sally leapt on her hesitation. ‘Look, Bill and I are heading up to the Hall tomorrow. Why don’t you join us? Throw your glad rags in a case and jump on a plane. You wouldn’t be imposing – Elizabeth adores you, and you know how much she loves a full house for Christmas. There’ll be a whole gang of us. Please say yes, Fliss. It would be the best Christmas present!’

Fliss took a deep breath. Without giving herself time to think, she opened her mouth to reply. ‘OK. Yes!’ She had to hold the phone away from her ear as, at the other end of the line, Sally shrieked with excitement.

‘Amazing! Book your flight then send me the details. I’ll let Elizabeth know. Oh, I can’t wait to see you!’

The two women hung up, Fliss wondering what she had just agreed to. It would be wonderful to see Sally again, and she knew Lady Oliver would undoubtedly make her feel welcome. She was less sure about seeing Tara … but really, all of that was years ago and the two of them had kept in touch on and off over the years, meeting for cocktails if Tara was in New York, listening to her stories about life in celebrity-circuit London, chatting over birthday WhatsApps.

Fliss had wonderful memories of the times she’d spent at Clarendon Hall, the beautiful old mansion house in the Cotswolds, staying with Tara in the school holidays, the two of them riding the Olivers’ horses to explore the glorious countryside and swimming in the lake on long, hot summer days. Then, as they grew older, the Hall had seen decadent parties – notably Tara’s Sweet Sixteen – and been the venue for first kisses and more … Those first adolescent fumbles, and Fliss’s first illicit taste of alcohol. Tara had been a demanding friend. Always the leader of the pack and always at the centre of attention. But Fliss hadn’t minded that – Tara had needed to shine, and back then Fliss was happy to let her. She’d been grateful for her friendship at a time when that was what she needed most. Until everything changed when Kit Forrest had entered their lives.

And that was the one question Fliss wanted to know the answer to, something that she hadn’t dared to ask Sally, but which loomed large in her mind: would Kit be at Clarendon Hall for Christmas?

Chapter 3

London

December, present day

‘Hi, Katie, get your nose out of your contracts! I’ve got the best news – Fliss is coming back for Christmas! I’ve just spoken to her and she’s going to get the next flight over and come straight to the Hall. I’m so excited! I can’t even remember the last time we were all together – my fortieth, maybe? Anyway, just wanted to let you know. Just remember – all work and no play means I’ll have to ply you harder with my signature champagne cocktails! Chat soon, love you.’

‘Who was that?’ Bill asked, walking into the kitchen of their Primrose Hill townhouse as Sally finished her call. The radio was playing softly in the background, Elton John encouraging everyone to ‘Step into Christmas’.

‘I was calling Katie,’ Sally explained, as she switched on the De’Longhi to start brewing coffee for the two of them. Sally was a tall, slender brunette, always full of energy, who lived on a diet of adrenaline and caffeine. She was dressed casually yet expensively, in taupe trousers and a lightweight cashmere sweater, accessorised with discreet gold jewellery. ‘I’ve just spoken to Fliss and she’s coming for Christmas! Isn’t that fantastic news? I couldn’t wait to let Katie know, she’ll be just as thrilled as I am.’

‘Fliss?’ Bill questioned, popping two slices of sourdough in the toaster. ‘Coming where for Christmas? London?’

‘No, silly. I invited her to the Hall. She was already invited to the ball, so I suggested she comes early. That will shake Christmas up a bit.’

‘What?’ Bill looked shocked, spots of colour appearing on his cheeks. He was a couple of inches shorter than his wife with a ruddy complexion, his once blond hair now sandy and thinning. ‘Sally, why would you do that?’

‘Oh, don’t be such a grinch! She’s having a tough time right now and needs to get away.’

‘A little rain falling on her charmed life for once? How so?’

‘Don’t be mean, and you know I won’t tell you – I think it’s what they call “girl code” these days. Anyway, it’ll do her good to be around old friends. Besides, your mother will love having her there, Fliss is one of her favourite people.’

Clarendon Hall was Bill’s family seat, home to Sally’s parents-in-law, the celebrated Lord and Lady Oliver. Sir Neville Oliver was the head of the family; his mother was an actress, the daughter of a costermonger who had married an earl. Neville had followed his mother on to the stage from less humble beginnings. Finding success with Cambridge Footlights, what followed was a sterling acting career, before moving into directing in midlife, he was virtually an icon and counted the King and Dame Judi amongst his closest friends.

With a study full of awards, he was a patron of numerous theatrical organisations, with presidencies and ceremonial roles galore. All of this had been done with his wife Elizabeth by his side. She had also been a celebrated stage actress in her youth, praised for her Shakespearean roles, but she had given up her career to raise their children and support her husband and together they embodied the crème de la crème of society.

Bill raised his eyebrows. ‘What about Dad?’

‘What about him? Your father’s very fond of Fliss. After all, they’ve known each other for more than thirty years.’

‘Yes, I’m well aware he’s fond of Fliss. But you know he’s not been well recently.’ Bill’s voice seemed to rise an octave. ‘All I mean is that it’s not fair on him to have to entertain all the waifs and strays you decide to invite to his house over Christmas.’

‘What on earth has got into you? This is Fliss we’re talking about,’ Sally replied, shaking her head and putting her hands on her hips. Recently Bill seemed to be testier than ever, always dissatisfied with his lot in life, appearing to feel that the world had wronged him in some way. ‘There’ll already be me, you and Jasper anyway, along with your sister and Kit and George, plus Katie and Harry and the twins. What difference will one more make? It’s a revolving door of visitors at this time of year.’

Bill glowered as he spread butter on his toast. ‘There’d better be a bloody good bottle of single malt under the tree from her.’

Sally frowned. ‘I thought you were cutting down in the new year?’

‘Got to get through Christmas first,’ Bill shot back.

‘Don’t we all?’ Sally muttered under her breath before grabbing her handbag and throwing her phone inside. ‘Delightful as this is, I need to get going. Any sign of Jasper surfacing?’

Bill shook his head. ‘I reckon he won’t stir before midday.’

‘Can you give him a nudge before you go to work?’