Milly knew that Dad was encouraging Javier in his pursuit of his daughter; she wasn’t a fool. Charlie was thinking of strengthening his ties with his business associate, who apparently supplied him with cut-price cotton and stuffing from somewhere in Brazil, and if he could nudge his daughter toward Javier, she knew that he’d be chuffed to bits. She was nothing more than a pawn, being used by every bastard that passed by – even by her own family!

‘Milly!’ Belle was trying to keep up with her. Her face was pleading. ‘Oh come on. You’re my friend, Mills. I warned you about him, you know I did. But you were dead set on carrying on with it. What could I do?’

Milly ground to a halt. Her face was twisted with rage and exertion.

‘Oh poor you! Poor bloody Belle, what a tragedy for you all this has turned out to be. But no, not really, is it? Because you’re still perfect and pretty with your lovely family, and I’m just a fat convenient nobody that imbecile screws when there’s nothing better on offer. I’ve got a loony for a mother and a father who’s always losing it and kicking the fucking furniture.’ Milly heaved in a breath. ‘You can fucking well stay away from me in future. You got that? You just stay away.’

And she turned on her heel and fled, leaving Belle staring after her.

Back up at the house, the long black car that had passed her on the drive was parked up. To her dismay she found Javier waiting for her on the porch. He was nearly dwarfed by the huge bouquet of pale shell-pink roses he was carrying.

‘For you,’ he said with his greasy gold-toothed smile.

‘Thanks,’ said Milly, awkwardly aware of Sammy sitting there by the open front door, watching this exchange.

‘You are so welcome,’ he said in his excellent English. ‘Where is your pretty little friend? Belle, isn’t that her name? I saw you down at the gatehouse, talking to her.’

‘She’s busy,’ said Milly. Every man from nine to ninety wanted to know about Belle.

‘Dinner, perhaps? Tonight?’ he offered.

‘No. I don’t think so. I’ve got a headache,’ said Milly. ‘Sorry, I’ve got to lie down.’

She could see he wasn’t pleased. But fuck it, she thought as she hared off up the stairs clutching the huge bouquet, fuck the lot of them. She didn’t give a stuff.

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