“There’s a pair of them, Helen. But don’t worry. I’ll get them insured. Besides, who can break into this place?” Cy said. “I’ll have the fence electrified if you’re worried.” He put the candlestick back in its case and closed the lid. “Now let’s go and see where we’re going to hang the El Greco. If I put it next to the Goya it will be overshadowed. It needs just the right lighting.”

We followed him out of the library. “You’re like a little boy.” Helen drew level with him now. “Can’t get enough new toys, can you? Well, don’t forget that it’s my money too that you’re wasting like this.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he said, “and if you don’t like the way I live you can always divorce me, you know.”

“You don’t want a divorce,” she said. “You wouldn’t want to pay all that alimony and you know I’d drag all the sordid details of you and your mistresses through the courts. Believe me.”

“Oh, I do believe you. You always did have a vindictive streak,” he said.

“I’m sure the newspapers would love to read about you and dear Stella—or are you looking to move on to someone a little younger, perhaps? You’re not wearing well around the edges, Stella honey. I’d say this is your last hurrah as a movie star.”

“You’re a bitch, Helen, did anyone tell you that?” Stella said.

“Frequently. And I enjoy it. It’s one of my few pleasures since my husband abandoned me.”

“I abandoned you?” Cy demanded. “I like that. Who wanted her own bedroom from day one? And kept the door locked?”

“You always were too demanding. You should have given me more time. Like a great ape, you were.”

The rest of us were trapped in the corridor with them, absolutely squirming with embarrassment. In England such a scene would never have happened. Fighting in public was just not done among our sort of people. It was Charlie Chaplin who took control. “I think we’ll go change for dinner and leave you to it, Cy,” he said. “I enjoy a prizefight as much as anyone, but I hate seeing good antiques get smashed. Come on, gang.”

We followed him back down the hallway and out into the mist that had risen from the Pacific Ocean to take over the landscape. Trees were now blurred and indistinct shapes.

“Where on earth are we going?” Belinda asked.

“We have one of the guest cottages,” I said. “Look. Down there in the trees.”

“We have to walk back here in the dark?” Belinda said.

“I agree,” Mummy said, “and with the wild animals too.”

“Wild animals. That’s funny.” Belinda laughed.