She was glad she had prepared for moments like this. Although her usual reading material consisted of Tatler and Vogue, in the days before the Bahamas trip she had swotted up on the Financial Times to deep-freeze some conversational nuggets.
‘So will we be seeing you at Ashford Park over the summer?’
‘Well, I start modelling as soon as I get back,’ said Sasha confidently. ‘But I’m sure I’ll be seeing you at some stage.’
He eyed her closely. ‘Miles said you had no plans for college.’
‘No, but I’ve been taken on by one of the best agencies in London. It’s too good an opportunity to pass up. I’m not convinced about the merits of university to be honest. I sometimes wonder why Miles is bothering with Oxford. Not having a degree didn’t stop you from becoming one of the country’s most successful businessmen.’
She silently congratulated herself on making this point. She didn’t want Miles at Oxford next term, she wanted him in London. And the only thing that could stop it was intervention from his parents. If only Robert could see the good sense in her suggestion.
‘I don’t know, Sasha. I think college will give Miles the time to mature. Make contacts. You should think about it yourself once you get your A level results. See what you can get through the UCAS clearing system. Mode
lling isn’t easy, you know. Have you thought about how the recession is going to affect the fashion industry?’
She visibly smarted. Was he implying she wasn’t beautiful enough to model?
‘Well, Linda Evangelista says she doesn’t get out of bed for less than ten thousand dollars a day, so I’d say the modelling world is having a boom at the moment.’
‘So you’re going to be a top model?’ he chuckled.
‘Of course,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
Robert nodded as he smiled. ‘I’ve always liked that about you, Sasha. You’re ambitious and you’re not afraid to admit it. We’re alike, you and I.’
He took a drink and smiled at her. ‘Just do me a favour, huh?’
Sasha felt a flutter of anticipation. ‘What’s that?’
‘Never sit around waiting for Miles.’
Her face betrayed her surprise. What was he suggesting?
‘I don’t intend to, Mr Ashford,’ she replied coolly.
‘Good,’ he said, holding her gaze. ‘Because I think you could do better. Much better.’
He looked at his watch and put his empty tumbler on the wall. ‘I’m just going to talk to Nelson. A few things to sort out for tomorrow.’
‘Of course,’ said Sasha. ‘And thanks for being an incredible host. I speak for us all when I say we’ve had an amazing time.’
‘You’re very welcome, Sasha.’
Sasha watched him go, perplexed and anxious at the same time. Had he just been pointing out the obvious, that his son was a heartless deadbeat? Or had he been coming on to her? If he thought Miles was a deadbeat, at least he had a point. Her boyfriend had certainly been distant and vague all holiday, preferring to spend time with Alex bloody Doyle and ducking the question whenever she wanted to discuss plans for next year. Sasha didn’t like to admit to weakness even to herself, but the truth of it was that she had felt lonely, even used.
She shook her head. Maybe she’d just had too many cocktails. She was tired too; last night she and Miles had been up till 5 a.m. screwing. Sasha had used every trick in the book – literally. Unbeknownst to Miles, she had been using a sex manual she’d bought in Soho during the Easter holidays and she was determined to try out every position before the summer was over. She already considered herself sexually experienced, having lost her virginity at fifteen to a thirty-six-year-old Iranian businessman she’d met at the L’Equipe Anglaise nightclub behind Selfridges. She’d told him she was twenty, he’d given her a Rolex. Between him and Miles there had been four others and she had swiftly learnt that there was only one word which would keep a rich man happy and that was S-EX. It had worked with Miles, after all. Just two months after the start of term in the lower sixth, she had seduced him at the school bonfire party simply by ignoring him. Well, that and not wearing a bra. She had dragged him behind the science block and, their breath puffing in the cold air, panted in his ear that she would do anything he wanted her to. Anything. It was a policy she had stuck to ever since to keep their love life on track.
God, this is making me depressed, she thought. I need a pick-me-up.
She walked through the house and up to the room she and Miles had been sharing before she had moved into a single room when Robert arrived; Miles had claimed his dad would ‘shit a brick’ if he suspected they were sleeping together. Sasha rummaged through his leather suitcase. She knew he had some coke in the room somewhere. She walked through to the en suite and checked his wash-bag. ‘Ah-ha!’ she whispered to herself, finding a little ziplock bag hidden in the side pocket. She fished out the wrap and dug a long fingernail into the white powder, taking a quick hit and slipping the rest into her bra for later.
On her way out, she snatched the cigarette packet sitting on the dressing table and lit one, waving her hand to clear the tarry smell from the air. She knew that Robert Ashford didn’t approve of smoking: he was a health nut. Miles had told her – to his great amusement – that his father had recently taken up yoga with ‘some fit French bird’ and had been on a health kick ever since, as Miles said, so he could keep up with her in bed.
Her jewelled sandals click-clacked down the stairs and out past the pool. In the distance she could make out laughter coming from the bonfire, but she didn’t feel like going back there just yet. She turned the other way, taking a path that wound down to a quiet cove. There was a store house for kayaks and a short jetty, and she kicked off her shoes and sat on the edge as she finished her cigarette. There had to be a way of manipulating Miles into a commitment. She just didn’t know what it was right now.
A noise behind her made her turn.
‘Hey there.’