‘You know I like to keep things interesting, Dad,’ said Miles. ‘Wouldn’t want to disappoint, would I?’
Connie saw the challenge in Miles’ jutting chin and stepped in between the two men before it could escalate.
‘Well, I think we all need to celebrate, don’t you?’ she said, leading Miles and Chrissy into the crowded hall, chattering to cover the silence. ‘I think Robert is planning to make a little speech later, so we can announce it then.’
‘Tonight is your birthday celebration, Connie,’ said Robert haughtily. ‘I’m not sure we should be muddying the waters.’
‘No, I think Mr Ashford’s right,’ said Chrissy, glancing at Miles and looking very awkward. ‘We don’t want to steal your thunder.’
Connie was just beginning to object when Miles’ father interrupted.
‘Darling, John and Norma Major have just arrived, I think we should say hello. We can all talk about this later.’
Connie nodded, then took her son’s hand. ‘I’ll get Consuela to prepare your room. Tomorrow we can go to Le Manoir for dinner and make plans. Chrissy, we’ll have to do something girlie.’
‘Constance. Please,’ said Robert sharply, beckoning her over.
Miles watched them go, feeling angry but not entirely surprised. He had actually expected more of an explosion from his father, but then he had been caught on the back foot. Miles felt sure Robert would have more to say on this later.
‘They’re not happy, are they?’ said Chrissy, a note of sadness in her voice.
‘Don’t take it personally. They were never going to do cartwheels at the news. Secretly, I think my mother is delighted, although I’m sure she feels a bit cheated. She lives for planning: birthday parties, charity events, company outings; she loves to work out every detail. And considering my sister Grace went off and had a shotgun wedding in the South American sticks, she’s missed out on both of the big ones.’
Chrissy didn’t look convinced. She folded her arms in front of her chest. ‘Your dad hates me.’
‘No he doesn’t. He disapproves of my lifestyle choices. It’s not you, it’s me.’
‘Right then,’ she said, deliberately ignoring him.‘Just because your dad’s a grumpy old bugger, let’s not let it ruin the night. Come on, let’s get pissed and have sex in the hayloft.’
‘We don’t have a hayloft,’ said Miles, slightly affronted. ‘This is a Robert Adam manor house, one of England’s finest, actually, not some farm.’
Chrissy leant in close to Miles and gently bit his ear lobe. ‘Well maybe you’d better show me,’ she laughed in her sexy, smoky way. ‘Architecture turns me on.’
They took two bottles of champagne from the bar and Miles took Chrissy on an impromptu tour of the house: the library stuffed with rare first editions and eighteenth-century tapestries, the big kitchen with the giant bread oven, his old bedroom in the west wing, still decorated with sports cups and Airfix model aeroplanes. Her open amazement at the place charmed him. There was a quiet competitiveness between the rich which meant anyone of their level would not be able to bring themselves to compliment someone else’s house beyond asking who their decorator might be. Only Alex Doyle had been as wide-eyed at the grandeur of the Ashford family home as Chrissy.
‘Miles, this place is like a fairy-tale castle, only more beautiful. Is it as nice outside? Do you have one of those big maze things?’
Her eyes were slightly glassy from the champagne, but she was genuinely excited by Miles’ lifestyle; not in a ‘I’ve just hooked an eligible bachelor’ way; more that she was actually pleased to be here, as if she couldn’t believe her luck.
‘Do you really want to go outside?’ he asked. ‘It’ll be freezing out there.’
She giggled. ‘I’ll warm you up, don’t you worry.’
They returned to Miles’ bedroom, where they had sex and rolled a joint and sat giggling, semi-naked, on his old single bed.
An hour later there was a sharp rap on the door. Robert Ashford entered the room and Miles waved his hand in the air to diffuse the sweet smell of dope.
His dad’s eyes blazed. ‘So here’s where you are. It’s your mother’s birthday and she’s seen you for literally two minutes.’
‘Sorry,’ Miles said smirking.
Robert sniffed the air. ‘Are you high, Miles?’ he demanded, his voice quivering.
‘No,’ he lied. Chrissy giggled.
Robert glared at her. ‘I’d like a moment with my son if you don’t mind.’
She looked at Miles, who nodded.