‘Whereas I want to be filthy rich and married to a beautiful woman.’

She half-returned my smile. ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? How different we are now.’

‘Were we ever the same?’

‘Maybe not. You were always more fun than me.’

‘You mean I was frivolous.’

Maud looked surprised at the change in my tone. I dropped my arm from her shoulder and leaned against the oven. ‘Mother thought that too. Or not frivolous – stupid.’

‘Of course she didn’t.’

‘You must have seen how differently she treated us.’

She turned back to the pot. ‘I know. But it’s more complicated for mothers and sons. Or it is with you two, anyway.’

I stuffed my hands into my pockets. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘You don’t understand. Do you deliberately misconstrue things? Or can you really not see how people feel?’ She bit her lip. ‘No, let’s stop – I hate arguing with you.’ She took a spoonful of the soup and blew on it then held it out to me. ‘Tell me what you think. It’s supposed to be cream of chicken.’

I tasted it, still angry. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Really?’

It wasn’t Maud’s fault. She couldn’t know what it had been like to grow up with a mother who could turn on her at any moment, but it irritated me that she wouldn’t acknowledge that I did. I tried to force a cheerfulness that I didn’t feel. ‘Creamy and chicken-like. And freezing cold.’

‘Oh well. Maybe Joseph was right to doubt me.’ She looked away. ‘Theo …’

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

There was a silence between us. After a while I held my hand out. ‘Come on. Let’s go sit outside until we smell burning.’

Christmas came and went. Maud arrived at The Norfolk on Christmas Eve, full of a treehouse that Abdullah was building for the servants’ children. Lucy and her family joined us for lunch the next day. She was wearing a white dress with small green flowers on it. I sat next to her during the meal, stroking her thigh with my thumb and enjoying the pink flush that stained her cheeks. My father drank an enormous quantity of wine, almost matched by Mr Cartwright, and the two of them sang Scottish ballads over the Christmas pudding. After the third ballad, Lucy and I escaped into the garden and I gave her the diamond earrings I’d bought her.

‘Thank you,’ she said, kissing me. ‘They’re beautiful.’

‘Not as beautiful as you,’ I said, and she flushed more.

Maud left on Boxing Day to supervise the treehouse. I went to the races with Freddie, Martha, Kiki, her husband and Sylvie, and counter to my first experience there, lost a sizeable amount of money.