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doing something positive.’
    Constance stared at Bella, her cold eyes baleful. ‘Have you ever been to South Africa?’
    ‘No,’ admitted Bella.
    ‘I thought not. People who haven’t first-hand knowledge of a country always make sweeping generalizations.’
    ‘But one has only to read the papers . . .’ Bella was thoroughly roused by now.
    ‘I bought that chestnut filly I told you about, Charles.’ Once more Lazlo had interrupted her in mid-sentence.
    Suddenly, the table came to life. Horses were obviously a complete obsession where the Henriques were concerned.
    The candles threw sharp daggers of light on to the table. Chrissie was talking to Rupert. Bella watched the rapt expression on the girl’s face.
    So that’s the way the wind blows, she thought. No wonder she hates me.
    Constance was rabbiting on about the game reserves. Lazlo was picking his teeth.
    I was a fool to come, thought Bella miserably. Steve was right about these people.
    She felt both exhausted and depressed when they left the men to their port and cigars. Chrissie sat down at the grand piano and played Beethoven extremely well.
    She looks beautiful now, thought Bella, looking at her softened face, the lamplight on the black hair.
    Constance and Gay talked more about the wedding, Constance sewing a piece of tapestry of a Victorian lady with a hare lip.
    Rupert joined them first and came straight over to Bella, his face drawn.
    ‘All right, darling?’
    ‘Fine,’ snapped Bella. ‘Give me a cigarette.’ She was irritated that he hadn’t stuck up for her at dinner.
    ‘Sorry we took so long,’ he said. ‘My father and Lazlo were having rather a heated discussion about devaluation.’
    But Lazlo didn’t look heated as he came through the door a moment later, smoking a large cigar and laughing at some joke of Charles’s, his saturnine face lit up by the glitter of dark eyes and the flash of very white teeth.
    He ought to laugh more, thought Bella, as he went over to the piano.
    ‘All right, love?’ Lazlo picked up a loose hair from Chrissie’s shoulder.
    ‘Of course,’ she said brightly.
    ‘Good.’ He smiled down at her, then crossed the room and sat down beside Bella.
    He’s a womanizer, thought Bella. Maybe I’ll try and vamp him. She leaned forward to show him more of her cleavage.
    ‘I met a friend of yours the other day,’ he said.
    ‘Oh, who?’ said Bella, giving him a long, hot, lingering glance, which was immediately wiped off her face when he said, ‘Angora Fairfax. She said you were at drama school together.’
    Bella had always loathed Angora Fairfax. She had been the spoilt darling of immensely rich parents, always at parties and complaining how exhausted she was next morning. All her fellow students, except Bella, had been pixillated by her. Angora, in her turn, had been jealous of Bella’s talent.
    ‘I knew her slightly,’ said Bella. ‘What’s she up to now?’
    ‘A television series, I think. She talked a lot about you.’
    ‘I’m sure,’ said Bella coldly.
    ‘She’s extremely attractive,’ said Lazlo, examining his whisky. ‘Can she act?’
    Bella nodded. She wasn’t going to fall into the trap of being bitchy.
    ‘I hear you had an audition tonight,’ Lazlo went on.
    Bella’s early warning system wasn’t working very well.
    ‘Yes, I did.’
    ‘And the director made a pass at you. How distressing for you.’
    Sarcastic cat, thought Bella.
    ‘Who was he?’
    ‘Harry Backhaus.’
    ‘Harry?’ His eyebrows shot up. ‘Unlike him. He’s only just got married again. We’re lunching tomorrow. I’ll give him a bollocking.’
    Bella felt herself going hot, then cold, with horror.
    ‘Oh, no! Please don’t,’ she said, far too quickly. ‘I expect he got carried away.’
    Lazlo’s smile was bland. ‘Still, there’s no excuse for that sort of thing.’
    At half past eleven Bella got up to go.
    ‘I’ll drive you home,’ said Rupert.
    ‘I’ll take her,’ said Lazlo. ‘I go straight