Page 34 of Friend of the Family

Karen pressed her lips together to stop herself from giggling as they quickly walked past the gate and into the courtyard of New College, heading towards the festival-style stage that had been assembled at the back of the quad.

‘Par cans?’ she whispered.

‘No idea,’ said Max. ‘Some sort of big light, I think. My stepbrother’s into the theatre; must have picked it up from him. Now, let’s get you a drink.’ There was a table to their left, champagne flutes lined up like soldiers. ‘Two each, I think,’ said Max, scooping them up.

Karen sipped her drink and took a moment to look around. She had heard that the Commem Ball was the grandest one of the year, but the size, scale and beauty of everything around her made her catch her breath. Behind her, a huge magnolia shimmered pink and ivory in the soft lighting. The honey stone walls glowed, and the castellations and leaded windows made her feel like a princess in a medieval fairy tale.

There were already at least two hundred guests milling about on the grassy quad, which rose to a mound.

‘What’s that?’ she asked.

‘Legend has it it’s a plague pit, and no one dares touch it,’ said Max, swallowing his first drink and dropping the glass onto the ground with a thunk. ‘Personally, I think it’s just the dirt left from digging the master’s wine cellar that no one could be bothered to cart away. Easier to make up some story than to pay the peasants to get rid of it.’

Karen was about to point out that she was one of those peasants, but Max had turned away to greet a group of rowdy posh boys already looking red in the cheeks.

‘Canapé, madam?’

She turned to see a waitress holding a silver tray. ‘No, I’m fine . . .’ she began before recognising the laugh. ‘Ames! God, sorry, I didn’t expect . . .’

‘It’s fine,’ smiled Amy, dropping into a small curtsey. ‘I’m just here to serve my betters. We’re not supposed to fraternise. Sure I can’t tempt you?’

Karen shook her head. ‘I’m only just fitting into Juliet’s dress as it is. If I eat anything, I’m worried I might blow a seam.’

Amy looked at her watch. ‘I’ll see you in four hours. Got a break then. Meet at those giant swing things, okay?’ She nodded at the small funfair on the lawns beyond a fabulously ornate gate.

Karen sipped her champagne, trying to soak up the moment.

‘What are you doing talking to the staff?’

She turned and saw Max.

‘That was Amy, you numbskull.’

‘I know it was Amy,’ said Max. ‘I’d know that arse anywhere. I was making a joke. Come on, I see David by the bar.’

Wow, thought Karen. No wonder David had refused to give them a preview of his dinner suit now it had full impact. Tall and broad, he filled it like James Bond, with a louche air like the Rat Pack. ‘Hey, David,’ she said, air-kissing him. ‘Like the tux.’

‘Actually it’s a tail coat, ’ said the girl next to him. Annabel. Or to be precise, Annabel Cary-Hunt. Apparently the name carried some sort of weight in the upper echelons, or so Max had suggested. Perhaps it did, but she seemed like a rude little cow to Karen.

‘Haven’t I seen that dress before?’ said Annabel.

‘Probably, it’s Juliet’s. It’s lovely, don’t you think?’

Annabel nodded, although her face said quite the opposite. She herself was wearing a sheath of cream silk and carrying a black padded Chanel clutch. Yes, she was pretty, but beyond that, Karen couldn’t understand why David would want to spend more than about three minutes in her company.

‘Where’s Amy tonight?’ she asked.

‘She’s working,’ said David. ‘Which is what we should all be doing really, rather than messing about pretending to be Anthony Andrews in Brideshead.’

‘Screw that,’ said Max, waving his flute in the air. ‘I’m going to keep clinging to this as long as I can. They’re going to have to prise the gown out of my fingers.’ He saw David’s expression and shook his head. ‘Seriously, you really want to get to work so soon? We’re going to be chained to those bloody desks for the next forty, fifty years.’

‘Speak for yourself, Maxie. My plan is to do my deals from my private jet as it comes in to land on my private airstrip in some tropical tax haven. And the sooner I can get there, the better.’

Annabel reached out and squeezed his hand. ‘And that’s why Daddy loves you,’ she said.

‘Do you think your old man will give me a plum job too, Bels?’ said Max. ‘I’m prepared to start at the bottom. Well, maybe somewhere nearer the middle.’

Annabel laughed. ‘I don’t think so, Max. You crashed his car, remember?’