Friend of the Family

by Tasmina Perry

  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?’

  ‘Oh crap,’ he said. ‘I’d forgotten about that. Then maybe I’ll stay here and do a doctorate or something.’

  ‘The coward’s way out, mate,’ said David, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘A man gets out there and makes his own destiny.’

  ‘My destiny is on the dance floor.’

  The crowds were much thicker now, as they made their way towards the raised dance floor. There were bands due on later, but in the meantime, some DJ was spinning cheesy pop.

  ‘I love this one,’ shouted Karen over the boom of the bass.

  Max was a surprisingly good dancer, shaking his hips and twirling her with ironic glee. She found herself chuckling, then laughing out loud at his antics.

  ‘I’m the king of the swingers,’ he sang into her ear, ‘the jungle VIP.’ For an uptight snob, he could be a real laugh.

  After three songs, she waved her hands in surrender.

  ‘I’m exhausted,’ she laughed. ‘Let’s go get a drink.’

  Max linked his arm with hers and pushed out of the heaving throng. ‘The queue at the bar’s crazy. I know where we can get one more easily.’

  He led her down a series of cloisters, then pushed open a wooden door. ‘In here,’ he whispered. Karen paused, but he opened his jacket and produced a silver flask. ‘I keep a very good cellar,’ he said. Shrugging, Karen followed him inside and he shut the door.

  She swigged from the flask, wincing at the sickly sharp taste.

  ‘Napoleon 1894,’ said Max with a wink. ‘Stole a case from my father’s stash last Christmas, not that the old duffer will notice the difference.’

  He moved in close, pushing her into the corner.

  ‘Max,’ she began, but he smothered her protests with a kiss. His hands were everywhere, but primarily on her breasts and arse. Karen felt fleetingly grateful for Juliet’s long gown, which at least meant he couldn’t easily get his hands up her skirt.

  ‘Max, no!’ she said, wrestling her way out of the corner and pushing firmly against his chest, but he just bounced back like an eager puppy.

  ‘No what?’ he mumbled into her shoulder. ‘No, wait until I unzip this dress, or no, let’s find a room to do this?’

  It was like trying to fight a randy octopus.

  ‘No, as in get the fuck off me, Max!’

  He finally stepped back, a frown on his face. ‘No?’ he said incredulously. ‘You’re joking, right?’

  ‘Deadly serious,’ said Karen.

  ‘You’re turning me down? Christ!’

  If it hadn’t all been so creepy, Karen might actually have laughed. ‘Just because we came here together doesn’t mean I’m going to shag you, Max.’

  ‘Oh no? And what did you think the deal was exactly? You’re quite happy to take the free entry and the free drinks and the golden ticket to the high life, but you’re not prepared to give anything in return, is that it?’

  ‘I’m not a piece of meat you can just buy, you arrogant shit.’

  He stepped forward, backing her into the corner again. ‘Oh no? And is what’s in here so very precious?’ he snarled, pushing his hand between her legs. ‘Don’t make me laugh, you fucking whore.’

  Karen had just enough room to swing her elbow out, jabbing Max in the solar plexus; he let out a surprised ‘Oof’ and bent in two, slipping down the wall. She didn’t wait to see if he was still breathing; she rather hoped he wasn’t. Wrenching the door open, she ran out, instinctively moving away from the noise of the main party, wanting to put as much space between herself and that little shit as possible. How could he? Did he really think she would just offer herself up to him as payment for his stupid ticket? Was that honestly how he thought people behaved?

  She turned a corner, then another, going deeper into the college grounds. It was quiet here, just the throb of bass from the disco and the odd peal of high-pitched laughter. She leaned against a wall, pressing her hands hard against her lips, trying to stop herself from shaking. Was that all they thought she was: a slag? A whore? She closed her eyes and remembered the way the girls at the cocktail party had looked at her. Like she was unclean.

  Christ. She sucked in air through her nose and blew it out, trying to calm herself. It was barely nine o’clock and already she wanted to go home, but Amy would be tied up for hours yet. She thought of all those braying pissed-up bitches judging her, all those red-cheeked public school boys drooling, expecting her to play her role, to know her place. She couldn’t stay here, no way. Maybe she could find a quiet café, sit it out for a few hours, then come back to meet Amy.

  She made her way back towards the entrance, the velvet rope abandoned now, only a solitary security guard manning the gate, who assured her that he’d let her back in later. Feeling sordid and slightly cowardly, trying not to increase her pace, she walked away, back under the Bridge of Sighs. She didn’t really have anywhere to go, but was heading vaguely in the direction of Amy’s student house. She hadn’t seen Pog at the ball; maybe he’d still be there?

  She had almost reached the corner when a dark figure appeared out of a doorway. Heart jumping, Karen stepped into the road to avoid him, but he moved to block her.

  ‘Go
ing somewhere?’ he said.

  Karen looked up, her mouth open.

  Lee.

  Chapter 9

  ‘Lee, what the hell are you doing here?’

  ‘I could ask you the same thing. Nice dress. Bet that cost an arm and a leg.’

  ‘What? It’s Amy’s friend’s.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I mean why have you come here, to Oxford?’

  ‘I came to get my girlfriend – at least that’s what I thought I was doing. Looks like I was wrong.’

  ‘Wrong about what?’

  ‘That you’re my bloody girlfriend!’ he shouted.

  Karen flinched and stepped back, stumbling in the gutter, and Lee’s hand shot out and gripped her arm. ‘You’re not, are you? All that shit about wanting to move in together was just bollocks, wasn’t it?’

  ‘What the hell, Lee? Where’s this coming from?’

  He dropped her arm, shaking his head. ‘Nah, screw it. I’m gone.’ He turned and stalked off.

  Utterly bewildered now, Karen followed, but he was walking too fast. He crossed a road without looking, causing a car to brake and blare its horn. She hurried across, catching up with him as he passed beneath the forbidding stone carvings surrounding the Sheldonian. ‘Lee, where are you going?’

  He turned, opening his arms wide. ‘Back to bloody Bristol,’ he said. ‘Why not? There’s nothing to keep me here, is there?’

  When Karen didn’t respond, he swore under his breath and turned away.

  ‘Stop,’ she said, catching his hand. ‘At least talk to me.’

  He resisted, but she dragged him up the stone steps into the courtyard surrounding the theatre. At least it was a little more private.

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘I went to see you at the florists and they said you’d booked a couple of days off and had gone to Oxford. So . . .’ He looked away, embarrassed.

  ‘So what?’

  ‘So I was worried, wasn’t I? Wondered what you were doing here, so I came to find you, and now you’ve made me look such a prick.’

  ‘And what about how you treat me, Lee? Have you forgotten what happened last week?’

  ‘I came here to tell you that I missed you! That I . . . I bloody loved you. And what do I see the moment I get here? Saw you in the queue with some posh twat, his hands all over you. I tried to follow you but the bastards wouldn’t let me into the party.’

  Oh crap.

  ‘Lee, it’s not like it seems, honestly. I just went with Max because he had a tick—’

  ‘Of course he’s called Max,’ he sneered. ‘Rich wankers are always called Max.’

  Karen bristled. Her first instinct was to defend Max, then she remembered leaving him on the floor and bit her tongue.

  ‘Look, I just wanted to go to the ball and that guy had a ticket, that’s all it was. And it’s not like you’re in any position to be lecturing me on how to behave, is it?’

  ‘So you were using him? Like you use everyone.’

  ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘You don’t even like Amy any more and yet you’re here living her life, borrowing her friends. You hate that bitch.’

  ‘Don’t speak about her like that.’

  ‘Why not? You do. You’re always going on about how she’s run off with her fancy new friends and left us behind, how she’s got above her station.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  Or was it? Karen didn’t know any more. It was true she would slag off Amy after a few drinks, but that didn’t mean she hated her.

  ‘Amy’s my friend.’

  Lee gave a cruel laugh. ‘She wasn’t all that good a friend when she was rubbing my cock under the table at Christmas.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘Is it? Every time you went to the loo, she was trying to get me to go back to hers. I said no because . . . well, because of you.’

  She glared at him, unsure whether to believe him.

  ‘Look, Lee, it’s nice you came to check on me, but what’s this all about really?’

  ‘What? You think I’m playing some sort of game?’

  ‘Yes, I fucking do!’ She stepped back and pulled up her skirt to show him her thigh. Flowering across the left-hand side was a purple and yellow bruise the size of an orange. ‘Look at that. You think that’s in my bloody head?’ She drew back her hair. ‘And there? Can you see the scratches? The ones where your fingernails sank into my neck? Is that all just a fantasy?’

  Lee pressed his lips together and looked away.

  ‘Oh, right, so you didn’t throw me down the stairs? You didn’t try to strangle me?’

  ‘I was pissed, I got angry. If you hadn’t been looking at Tony Dean like that, I’d never have done anything.’

  She nodded, snatching at the tears now running down her face. ‘Yes, it’s all my fault. Of course, that must be it.’

  ‘No, I mean, it was all just a . . . It didn’t mean anything. I still love you. Look, I’m here, aren’t I? I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t care about you.’

  ‘Lee. It’s over.’

  His eyes locked with hers and Karen immediately knew she had made a mistake.

  ‘Over?’ he said, stepping towards her. ‘I’ll tell you when it’s over. I’ll decide.’

  She backed away, immediately bumping into the railings.

  ‘You think I’m going to let you go back to the Dragon and spread shit about me?’ he said, his voice low, menacing. Lee was four paces away now, his hands opening and closing, that familiar look on his face: frowning, slightly bemused, as if he couldn’t believe she’d forced him to hurt her again. ‘You think I’m going to allow that?’

  Karen’s hands found cold stone: the gate. She threw herself sideways, half stumbling down the steps onto the pavement.

  ‘Hey, hey!’ cried a voice, and she felt hands on her, holding her up. She whirled around to see the alarmed face of a middle-aged woman with greying hair and the all-weather anorak of a tourist. ‘Are you okay, love? Do you need help?’

  Karen turned to look up at the gate, but the courtyard beyond the railings was dark and empty. Lee was gone.

  ‘No, no, I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Thank you, though.’

  ‘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.