Page 38 of Friend of the Family

‘Are you sure?’ The woman looked dubious, and Karen wondered what she had seen, what she saw when she looked at her. Some young girl in trouble, or an impostor, someone who didn’t fit into the picture of Oxford?

‘Yes, I’m just . . . I’ll be fine.’ She backed away, smoothing down her dress. ‘Maybe shouldn’t have had that last drink.’ She forced a weak smile, then turned away from the woman and tottered across the road, back towards New College. Amy would still be working, she knew, but she wanted to talk to her. Needed to talk to her. Right now.

Chapter 10

Present day

‘Wow!’

Amy and David looked at each other open-mouthed as their car rolled through the gates of the villa. It was enormous, like a movie-set palazzo. Max and Claire were standing on the drive as they clambered out of the powder-blue Range Rover that Max had sent to collect them from the airport. Juliet and Peter, who had been on the same flight as them, pulled up right behind in another 4x4.

‘Max, it’s a bloody monster,’ called Juliet as she stepped down onto the gravel.

‘That’s what all the ladies say.’

Amy walked over to embrace their hosts, her eyes still wide. ‘I never thought I’d say this, Max,’ she said, sliding her sunglasses onto the top of her head. ‘But you’ve actually outdone yourself.’

The property was spectacular, built from pale stone with ivory blocks around the doors and windows, the gently sloping roof dimpled with pink and white undulating tiles. The details – the pastel shutters, the whitewashed steps – all said ‘traditional French farmhouse’, but the scale, an

d the elaborate sculptured fountain in the middle of the drive, spoke of unmistakable wealth.

‘I have to say, I’m impressed, Max,’ said Peter.

‘Not bad, is it?’ said Max, putting an arm around Claire, his garish Hawaiian shirt riding up. ‘And mi casa es su casa, or whatever it is.’

‘We’re glad you could all make it,’ smiled Claire. Amy could see she had made a special effort for their arrival, with blow-dried hair falling in waves over a Tom Ford pale linen dress. Or perhaps she always looked perfect when she was relaxing at home.

Max waved regally towards the Range Rovers. ‘Alain will bring your bags; come in and have a drink.’

Just then, Tilly came sprinting up and threw her arms around Max’s legs. ‘Uncle Max! Uncle Max!’ she squealed. ‘We brought Josie with us! Isn’t that good?’

Max patted her head and looked up, shading his eyes against the sinking sun as he watched Josie climb out of the second car, one long leg at a time.

‘How’s Claudia?’ asked Claire quickly.

‘Shaken up, broken ankle and wrist. But it could have been worse.’

‘All’s well that ends well, eh?’ said Max, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off Josie. Shaking off Tilly, he stepped forward, offering her his hand. ‘We met briefly in London,’ he said smoothly. ‘Max Quinn. This is my place. You’re very welcome, Josie.’

‘Don’t mind him, Josie,’ said Claire.

Amy had no idea how Claire put up with Max’s behaviour. She liked to think her old housemate had never cheated on his wife, but she never paused on the thought too long, knowing deep down it was probably a question not of if, but how often.

‘Come on through, I think we could all do with cooling off,’ he said, touching her shoulder and leading her into the house.

The interior of the villa was as impressive as the outside, the double entrance doors giving way to a high hallway sparsely furnished with angular modern pieces. Max was right, it was cooler in here, shutters and long voile curtains keeping out the heat of the fading day.

‘Your rooms are all in the east wing,’ said Claire, indicating a staircase to the left. ‘They have the best views over the valley and they all have access to the pool.’

‘There’s a pool?’ said Tilly, doing a little celebration dance.

Max boomed out a laugh. ‘Of course there is,’ he said, opening a pair of French windows and ushering them through. ‘Where do you think Hettie spends all day every day?’

‘Tilly, don’t run!’ called Amy as her daughter scurried off in search of her playmate.

‘Too late,’ smiled David. ‘But don’t worry, I gave her the talk of doom at the airport. No pool time without an adult, armbands at all times. Hopefully it sank in.’

Amy watched as Tilly ran around the edge of the pool, wishing David hadn’t used the word ‘sank’. Tilly had been having swimming lessons, but this was not just a pool; it was more like a series of landscaped grottos with an ornamental bridge crossing the middle and diving boards at either end.