‘I thought they were meant to be your friends.’
The entrance hall was dusty and unkempt, but underneath the layers of grime she could still make out the splendour that had once been. She walked into the centre of the room and looked up in wonder at a great cobwebby chandelier. It wasn’t working – the place was lit only with candles in every alcove and nook – but Kayley could imagine how glowing and beautiful the hall had once been.
People stood or sprawled in corners, drinking and smoking and, in some cases, sleeping.
‘Ross.’
A confident voice addressed them from a side door. Kayley saw a handsome, well-dressed man leaning against the door frame, holding an opened champagne bottle.
‘How’s it going, Loz? This is Kayley, a friend of mine from college.’
‘Ah,’ said Loz, coming forward and holding out a hand to shake. ‘College, eh? A scholar. And a lady. Delighted.’
He shook hands and offered her the champagne bottle.
Kayley, somewhat flattered by the way this very elegant gent was giving her the full beam of his approving attention, giggled and shook her head.
‘Don’t you have any glasses?’ she asked.
‘No, I’m afraid we’re barbarians here,’ he said with a charming smile. ‘Especially barbaric of me not to have introduced myself. I’m Lawrence Harville.’
‘Oh!’ said Kayley.
He must have noted the slightly conflicted response this provoked in her, because he sighed and cocked his head to one side.
‘Ah, now you’re judging me,’ he said. ‘A local girl, I take it?’
‘Well, you know your family aren’t exactly the most popular round here,’ she said. ‘But don’t mind me. I know it’s not your fault. You were a little kid when it all kicked off.’
‘Indeed I was. And Ma and Pa are a long way away from it all now. They knew better than to stick around.’
‘So they’ve left all this to you?’ She waved a hand, indicating the house as a whole.
‘Yes. Foolish of them. I’m no housekeeper, I’m afraid, and my trust fund doesn’t seem to stretch to domestic help.’
‘It all goes on fun,’ said Ross, with a slight edge of disapproval. ‘Honestly, Loz, you don’t want to let the place fall down. If I got my hands on it, the things I could do …’
‘You’d turn it into a fucking … day centre for underprivileged kids,’ said Lawrence, laughing. ‘Always a bleeding heart, this one,’ he said, turning to Kayley. ‘Always on about how we didn’t deserve our superior education if we don’t use it to give something back to those less fortunate. Such a mealy mouthed phrase, don’t you think? “Those less fortunate”? Sounds like a fat, brandy-swigging vicar on School Speech Day. “Those less fortunate”.’
Kayley realised now just how much champagne Lawrence had got through. He was beginning to slur.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I think it’s pretty sound myself. Why do you need a massive house like this when there are kids coughing their lungs up in mouldy one-bed flats on the estate?’
‘Oh, God help us,’ said Lawrence, rolling his eyes at Ross. ‘Why have you brought me Leon Trotsky’s sister? What did I do to you, to deserve this?’
Ross laughed. ‘It’s good for you to be challenged now and again, Loz. I’m only thinking of you.’
‘You’re too … too … kind,’ he said, with a pause to belch out some regurgitated bubbles. ‘At least she’s pretty.’
‘Loz.’ A girl in heavy black eyeliner appeared beside their host, eyeing Kayley with suspicion before laying her head on Lawrence’s arm. ‘Missing you, babe. Come upstairs.’
‘Look, sorry, Tigs, I’m not really in the zone. Later maybe, yah?’
The girl pouted and flounced upstairs, if skinny jeans could be made to flounce. Kayley didn’t own a pair herself – they hadn’t made it to the Bledburn shops yet – but she’d noticed pretty much every girl was wearing a pair of Topshop Baxters.
‘Is that your girlfriend?’ asked Kayley, looking wistfully at her enviably tight bum below the hoodie.
‘No,’ said Lawrence. ‘Just a friend. I’m a friendly guy. I’d like to be your friend, as long as you stop telling me what an evil capitalist swine I am.’