‘Isn’t her grandad like the fiftieth richest man in England or something?’
‘Exactly,’ said Max, pointing an accusatory finger. ‘Fiftieth. I mean, I have to think about my future, don’t I?’
Karen gaped at him. Max was clearly serious. Amy had already filled her in on his background: he too had been to Harrow, and his father was a lawyer, but by Oxford standards, where every second student seemed to be a European princess or a viscount with a family seat, he wasn’t exactly a huge catch. Dripping wet, his dark eyes just a little too close together, he had a weaselly look about him, but one thing he didn’t lack was self-esteem.
‘Anyway, the point is,’ said Pog impatiently, ‘I presume you now have a spare ticket for the ball tonight?’
‘Possibly . . .’ said Max uncertainly. ‘Why?’
‘A man of your high social standing can’t be seen to arrive at the biggest ball of the decade alone, can he?’
‘I suppose not.’ Max’s eyes had retreated into suspicious slits.
‘Well, good news. Karen here has been gracious enough to agree to accompany you.’
A lecherous smile came over Max’s face. ‘Have you now?’
Karen suddenly felt very exposed as she became aware of his eyes running over her, her old nightie barely hiding her curves.
‘Oi!’ said Pog, throwing a tea bag at him. ‘She has agreed to accompany you, nothing more. And I’d say she’s being more than generous, given that she’ll have to be seen with you in public.’
‘Steady on, old man,’ said Max, a kicked-puppy look on his face. ‘As it happens, I was going to ask her myself.’
He went down on one knee and clasped his hands together. ‘Karen . . .’ He paused and looked across to Amy.
‘Price,’ she said.
‘Karen Price, could you find it in your heart to join me tonight?’
Karen had only met Max twice before, on the night she’d arrived two days earlier, and the previous evening in the pub, and she hadn’t liked him on either occasion. But this morning he was funny, and although she didn’t want to boost his ego any more by laughing, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
‘You twat,’ she grinned. ‘Okay, you may take me to the ball.’
He jumped to his feet, scooping up the suit bag from the door. ‘Righto,’ he said. ‘Be ready at seven.’
Karen locked eyes with Amy. For a split second, she saw something – annoyance, envy? – pass over her friend’s face. But then she shrieked with laughter.
‘It’s like the world’s worst Disney movie. You have my sympathy, darling.’
Yeah, maybe, thought Karen, but I’m going to the ball with an actual ticket, and you’ll be bringing me my champagne, won’t you?
‘Why don’t you come too, Amy?’ said Pog. ‘I know a few people at New College. I bet I can get you a ticket.’
Amy shook her head. ‘I need the money, Pog. Moving to London won’t be cheap. The bank’s already on my back about my overdraft, and anyway, I can’t let the caterers down on the day of the ball.’
‘You can always stay with me over the summer if you want to save a bit of cash. It’s a bit draughty, and if I’m honest, a bit dull. But we’ve got plenty of room. Like, about forty.’
‘It’s sweet of you, but I’d still be in the same position in the autumn.’ She looked over at Karen. ‘No, I’ll just come and find you lot when I’ve finished. It goes on until dawn, doesn’t it? I’ll be the one in the waitress outfit.’
Karen’s eyes opened wide, feeling her triumph draining away. ‘Oh shit,’ she said.
‘What?’
She looked down at the Snoopy nightdress.
‘What the hell am I going to wear?’
Chapter 7