Polo

‘Course you can,’ said Seb. ‘Perdita’ll look after them. Haven’t I been trying to seduce your mother for ages?’ he added over his shoulder to an absolutely spitting Perdita. ‘Dommie’s been a long time with that nurse. This must be him.’

But instead Drew walked in. Taking in the number of bottles and people, he went straight up to Luke’s bed.

‘You poor sod, how you feeling? Besieged, I should think. You don’t want this mob here, do you?’

‘They’re OK,’ Luke grinned weakly.

‘I’ll get rid of them in a minute. I’ve just spoken to Ricky. He’s had another look at Fantasma. She’ll be fine. If it’s any comfort, we had five ponies lame after the second match. We’re all going to be out of horses by the Gold Cup.’

Putting more grapes and a new book on polo pony management down on the bed, he nodded to the others.

Daisy, who’d gone as red as a peony, again pretended to gaze out of the window. She’d popped in on Luke to establish an alibi and her blood froze at the thought that Perdita might have decided to go for a walk in Windsor Park and disturbed Drew and her in the bracken.

Drew, following her, removed more buttercup petals from her hair.

‘That was heavenly,’ said Daisy faintly.

‘It always is with you, my love,’ whispered Drew. Then, more loudly: ‘D’you need a lift back to Rutshire?’

‘No, I’ve got the car,’ said Daisy, which Drew already knew.

‘Oh my God,’ howled Red as Chessie swanned in carrying two bottles of Dom Perignon, a vast box of chocolates and a new translation of Dante’s Inferno. ‘How you’ve got the gall to barge in here, having nearly screwed Luke’s match yesterday?’

‘Good girl,’ said Seb, relieving her of the bottles. ‘We’ve just run out of drink.’

Having nodded fairly coolly to everyone else, Chessie kissed Luke. ‘So sorry you had a shunt, angel, bloody bad luck.’ Then, lowering her voice: ‘Has Ricky been in?’

‘First thing this morning,’ said Luke.

‘Hell, I missed him,’ said Chessie furiously. ‘How was he?’

‘Tired,’ said Luke, lying back on his pillows. The snowstorm was whirling in front of his eyes again. He couldn’t handle all the cross-currents.

Chessie departed almost immediately but no-one else showed any signs of shifting.

‘Your taxi’s arrived, Red,’ announced Seb, who’d started on Luke’s chocolates as Auriel’s pink helicopter landed on the lawn outside, sending patients on crutches and in wheelchairs leaping for safety.

As everyone crossed the room to have a look, Daisy noticed how green Luke had gone. Getting an envelope out of a carrier bag she timidly handed it to him.

‘I thought you might like this.’

Opening it, Luke had great difficulty in not breaking down.

‘Wow, it’s terrific, beautiful!’ he said finally in a choked voice. ‘Thanks a million.’

It was a miniature of Fantasma standing fetlock deep in Ricky’s watermeadows, faintly rose-pink in the rising sun, ears pricked, lovely eyes slightly suspicious and with ash woods soaring up like organ pipes behind her.

‘It is good, isn’t it?’ said Drew, who’d already seen it in several stages, trying to subdue the pride in his voice as he ran a hand up the back of Daisy’s jeaned thigh.

‘It’s very good,’ said Red, topping up Daisy’s glass. ‘How much d’you want for that pony?’

‘She’s not for sale.’ Luke was still gazing in wonder at the painting.

‘She will be,’ said Red arrogantly. ‘Everyone’ll be after her after yesterday.’

‘They already are,’ snapped Drew, who didn’t like Red, ‘and we ought to leave Luke alone.’ Then, as a couple of nurses staggered in buckling under more bunches of flowers, ‘Christ, you’re popular.’

Just for a second Red’s face tightened. Then he turned to Daisy: ‘Did you say you’d just been to an Exhibition of the Royal Society of Portrait Painters?’ he asked softly. ‘What did you think of Auriel’s portrait?’

‘I’m afraid there was so much to look at I didn’t get round to it,’ said Daisy, going crimson again. Mercifully Perdita was nose to nose with Seb on the other side of the room.

‘Hardly surprising,’ drawled Red, just above a whisper. ‘The exhibition closed yesterday. Nice one, Mrs Macleod!’ Then, laughing at her discomfort, added, ‘What’s it worth not to tell your cantankerous daughter?’

‘Oh, please don’t,’ begged Daisy.

She was saved by the arrival of Jose the Mexican brandishing a huge bunch of clashing mauve and salmon- pink gladioli, and by the return of Dommie and Nurse O’Grady with more flowers and her white cap on back to front.

‘Rosie’s coming to Paris with us,’ said Dommie joyfully. ‘She’s off duty in ten minutes.’

‘That’s great,’ said Seb. ‘You can tell us apart, Rosie, because I’ve got a scar on the inside of my right knee and I’m the one Decorum loves best.’

‘He bloody doesn’t,’ howled Dommie, brandishing an empty bottle.

‘I very sorry.’ Jose the Mexican handed Luke the gladioli and accepted some champagne in a teacup. ‘I hop you very better now.’

‘Thanks a lot,’ said Luke, trying to sound really grateful. The snowstorm had become a blizzard. For a second he closed his eyes.

‘Hello, Luke. Ayve brought you some Lucozade and some Penhaligon’s Bluebell to remaind you of Rutshire.’ It was Sharon Kaputnik wafting graciousness and Jolie Madame. ‘Hello, boys, hello, Red. Victor’s absolutely delaighted you’re goin’ to be on our team. He’s convinced he’s got a winning formula at last.’

‘Not if he’s part of it,’ murmured Red.

But Sharon had turned to the Mexican, feigning amazement, ‘Well, hello, Hose. Fancy seein’ you here.’

Dommie giggled. ‘We’ve got a hose-pipe ban in Rutshire. You better keep your willy under wraps when you play down there, Jose.’

‘Have a look at Tatler,’ said Seb, handing Sharon a porn mag. ‘I’m sure you’ll find yourself in it.’ But Sharon was gazing deep into Jose’s black eyes.

Drew was talking in an undertone to Daisy. Seb and Dommie were making plans with Nurse O’Grady.

‘We’ll buy you something to wear,’ Dommie was saying.

I want to go to Paris, thought Perdita furiously. I want to go to Maxim’s and the Ritz and the Faubourg St Germain. I want to deplete some man’s cheque-book.

Red was getting restless. ‘We oughta go. Are you coming with us, Daisy?’

‘Don’t be fatuous,’ said Drew sharply. ‘Daisy’s got a family to look after and all her painting commitments.’

‘Let Daisy answer for herself,’ said Seb, dabbing Penhaligon’s Bluebell behind his ears.

‘I really can’t,’ giggled Daisy.

She was saved this time by the arrival of Matron, six foot high and breathing fire. ‘A pink helicopter has just landed on the lawn seriously jeopardizing the lives of the patients,’ she thundered. ‘I assume it belongs to one of you.’

‘You suspected right, Lofty,’ said Red, gathering up Daisy’s roses. ‘These are nice. They’ll do for Auriel.’

‘They’re Luke’s,’ protested Daisy.

‘Any more flowers and he’ll get hay-fever. Come on, you guys.’

Matron, who’d been mouthing ineffectually, found her voice.

‘Where are you taking that nurse?’ she demanded.

‘To Paris.’ Dommie handed Matron two empties as he sauntered out.

‘She’s off duty,’ said Seb, handing her two more.

‘See you,’ they chorused to Luke.

‘Where are you living?’ he called after Red.

‘With Seb and Dommie. I’ll call you, and I’ll certainly call you.’ Blowing a kiss at Daisy, Red vanished, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Daisy was not sure who was angrier – Perdita, Matron or Drew.