all brand new by the look of them—the bathroom with bath, power shower and Jacuzzi. Drevin had promised him a luxurious lifestyle and he had certainly been true to his word.
“What do you want to do?” Paul asked.
“You tell me.”
“Well, we can go horse-riding if you like. We’ve got two swimming pools: indoor and out. Later we can watch a film. There’s a cinema and Dad gets all the new releases. We can play tennis or golf, or go clay pigeon shooting. You saw the lake; we can go jet-skiing or sailing or fishing or whatever. I suppose I’d better start by showing you around. That’ll take most of the day, and Dad’s having dinner with us tonight.
It’s up to you.”
Alex didn’t know what to say. “I don’t mind.”
“Well, I’ll show you the house and then we can grab a couple of quad bikes and I’ll take you round the grounds. There are about two hundred acres. Are you hungry?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Then let’s go.”
“Right.” Alex tried to sound enthusiastic, but somehow he couldn’t.
Paul had picked up on this. “I guess this must be very weird for you,” he said. “You don’t know me and you probably don’t even like me. Not a lot of people do. They think I’m a rich, spoilt brat and if they come here at all it’s only because of all the free stuff. My father invited you because he wanted to thank you for what you did at the hospital. But it was more than that. He’s hoping we’re going to be friends and it’s the one thing he can’t actually buy. Friendship. But I’ll understand if you want to take your bags and get the hell out of here. Sometimes I feel the same.”
Alex thought for a moment. “No,” he said. “I’m glad to be here. I can’t go back to school and I’m meant to be resting for the next couple of weeks, and to be honest, I’ve got nowhere else to go. So if your dad wants to treat me like a multimillionaire, I’m not going to complain.”
“OK.” Paul looked relieved. “We’re going to New York on Sunday and that’ll be cool. And then there’s Flamingo Bay. Have you tried kite-surfing?”
Alex shook his head.
“I can show you how to do it. We’re on the Atlantic side so we get huge waves.” Paul had suddenly become more animated and Alex found himself warming to him. “Let’s start in the cinema,” he said. “We can work our way down…”
Two hours later, they still hadn’t finished. Alex had seen more wealth than he could possibly imagine. This wasn’t how the other half lived. There were probably only a handful of people in the world with the resources of Nikolei Drevin. Anything he wanted he could have—from the medieval suit of armour outside the dining room to the two Polaris MSX jet skis out on the lake. He had also learnt a little more about Paul’s background. He was an only child. His parents had divorced when he was six and his mother was now living in America. He saw her a couple of times a year, but she and his father never spoke. When Paul was younger he had gone to an ordinary school, but in the end there had been too many security problems and now he was being educated by private tutors. Part of the house had been converted into a school. Alex had seen it and felt sad. There were books and blackboards, desks and computers. But no schoolchildren. No shouting. No real life.
At five o’clock he went back to his room and dozed for an hour, then showered and changed for dinner. He had seen the grand dining room at Neverglade with its chandeliers and antique oak table long enough to seat twenty— and he was relieved that they would be eating in the conservatory next to the kitchen. This was a pretty room with marble columns, Italian tiles and exotic plants in huge terracotta pots. Nikolei Drevin was already there when he arrived.
“Please come in, Alex. Take a seat.” Drevin was drinking wine. He had changed into jeans and a denim jacket, and Alex couldn’t help thinking that the clothes didn’t suit him. He was somehow too old for them.
He was a man born to wear a suit.
“Will you have some wine?” Drevin asked. “Or perhaps a beer?”
“Water will be fine,” Alex replied.
“In Russia, children drink alcohol from an early age.”
The door opened and a young woman came in, carrying the first course on a tray: melon and serrano ham.
Alex had no idea how many people worked at Neverglade; the servants had the knack of staying invisible, except when they were needed. He helped himself to iced water. Paul arrived and sat down without speaking. The servant left and the three of them were alone.
“Has Paul shown you around?” Drevin asked.
“Yes. It’s quite a place.”
“I bought it when I first came to your country. The original Neverglade was a sixteenth-century manor house. There’s a story that Queen Elizabeth I stayed there and saw a production of Twelfth Night in the great hall. But I wasn’t fond of the architectural style. The house was too dark, and it only had eleven bedrooms. It was too small.”
“What happened to it?”
Drevin sighed. “A dreadful accident. It burned down. This present castle rose out of the ashes’or rather, I brought it here. I liked it the moment I saw it. The only problem was that it was in Scotland. But happily I was able to do something about that. Have the two of you decided what you’re going to do tomorrow?”
“I thought we might go for a walk,” Paul said.
Drevin turned on him and Alex saw something flash in the grey eyes. It was very brief and he couldn’t be certain, but it was almost a look of contempt. “Surely you can think of something more adventurous than that!” he said. “Why don’t you take the horses out? Or the dirt bikes? Of course, you’re both recuperating.
