Kiss Heaven Goodbye Part 24

'Why, are you ashamed of me?'

'No, baby. But my father can be quite conservative.'

'I thought you didn't care what your father thought.'

Miles rolled his eyes. 'At some point I'm going to have to start working at Ash Corp. and my father's an awkward b.a.s.t.a.r.d when he feels slighted. I want my pick of the company departments I don't want him dumping me in Finance or somewhere, because he can.'

'And you think I'm going to get you sent to Siberia?'

Miles smiled. 'Maybe. He's going to be p.i.s.sed off enough that we got married without asking his permission. I don't need to make it any worse.'

'I promise I'll be a good girl,' said Chrissy in a mocking tone. 'Now, have you got the c.o.ke?'

Miles laughed and racked a couple of fat lines out on a road atlas, rubbing the residue into their gums.

'OK, husband,' purred Chrissy, her eyes suddenly more bright. 'Let's do it!''Well, well. What a surprise,' said Robert Ashford. 'The prodigal son returns.'

Stiffly, Miles and his father shook hands at the door of Ashford Park. All around them was the rich smell of cinnamon and pine cones, and the happy sound of four hundred party guests enjoying themselves at someone else's expense. The huge entrance hall was dominated by a twenty-foot Christmas tree festooned with Austrian crystal baubles and banners hanging from the ceiling declared 'Seasons Greetings!' and 'Goodwill to all Men!' And yet despite not having seen one another in almost twelve months, the atmosphere between father and son was sub-zero.

'Not pleased to see me?' said Miles.

'On the contrary, Miles,' said Robert, 'I was beginning to think I would have to go to the expense and inconvenience of sending a search party. Your turning up out of the blue is something of a boon in that department.'

Miles' instinct was to turn around and leave straight away, but with Chrissy there he couldn't, not without losing face.

'Yes, I know I said I was coming back in February,' he said in a more even tone. 'But, well, there was a change of plan.'

'Did the full-moon party scene finally lose its appeal?' said Robert. He turned to Chrissy, holding out a hand. 'I don't believe we've met,' he smiled.

'Christine Devine,' she said with a deferential nod. 'Call me Chrissy. Pleased to meet you.'

Miles watched his father quickly size up his wife.

'Judging from the tan,' said Robert, 'I'd say you two met abroad.'

'Thailand,' replied Chrissy.

'Wonderful,' he replied with little enthusiasm. 'And were you travelling too?'

'Working.'

'Really? Whereabouts?'

'In p.h.u.ket. I worked in a hotel.'

Miles smiled inwardly, grateful for the lie.

'Oh, which one?' asked Robert. 'I was in Patong last summer looking at resort sites.'

Chrissy answered without hesitation. 'The Coral Cay, lovely place ...'

'Miles! I don't believe it!' said an excited voice, breaking the interrogation. It was Connie Ashford, and Miles gratefully embraced his mother. Always a beautiful woman, she looked especially chic in a long midnight-blue silk gown which fell to the floor. Her blond hair was swept off her face in a chignon, her delicate features enhanced by soft sweeps of colour to her cheeks and eyelids. Her extreme beauty often made people think she was haughty, but when she smiled, which was often, her Grace Kelly froideur softened, giving her a warmth that her husband lacked.

'Happy birthday, Mum,' said Miles, kissing her cheek.

'I couldn't have asked for a better present.' She smiled.

'Mum, this is Chrissy,' he said, quickly manoeuvring her away from his father.

'Lovely to meet you,' said Connie, shaking her hand.

'Well, I'm glad we have both of you here,' said Miles quickly; he wanted to get this over with. 'We have some news.'

'Tell me you're staying for New Year?' said Connie, looking from Miles to Chrissy expectantly.

Miles shook his head.

'We're married.'

There was a stunned pause as both parents blinked at him, not quite sure if they had heard him correctly.

'Married?' said Connie, nervously tucking a curl of hair behind her ear.'My word ... that certainly is news.' Regaining her characteristic poise, she stepped forward and embraced her son and his new bride. 'Congratulations to both of you,' she said, her eyes glazing with tears. 'I'm bowled over. But it's wonderful. Isn't it, Robert?'

'You never stop surprising us, Miles,' said Robert, his smile thin and tight. 'I'll give you that much.'

'You know I like to keep things interesting, Dad,' said Miles. 'Wouldn't want to disappoint, would I?'

Connie saw the challenge in Miles' jutting chin and stepped in between the two men before it could escalate.

'Well, I think we all need to celebrate, don't you?' she said, leading Miles and Chrissy into the crowded hall, chattering to cover the silence. 'I think Robert is planning to make a little speech later, so we can announce it then.'

'Tonight is your birthday celebration, Connie,' said Robert haughtily. 'I'm not sure we should be muddying the waters.'

'No, I think Mr Ashford's right,' said Chrissy, glancing at Miles and looking very awkward. 'We don't want to steal your thunder.'

Connie was just beginning to object when Miles' father interrupted.

'Darling, John and Norma Major have just arrived, I think we should say h.e.l.lo. We can all talk about this later.'

Connie nodded, then took her son's hand. 'I'll get Consuela to prepare your room. Tomorrow we can go to Le Manoir for dinner and make plans. Chrissy, we'll have to do something girlie.'

'Constance. Please,' said Robert sharply, beckoning her over.

Miles watched them go, feeling angry but not entirely surprised. He had actually expected more of an explosion from his father, but then he had been caught on the back foot. Miles felt sure Robert would have more to say on this later.

'They're not happy, are they?' said Chrissy, a note of sadness in her voice.

'Don't take it personally. They were never going to do cartwheels at the news. Secretly, I think my mother is delighted, although I'm sure she feels a bit cheated. She lives for planning: birthday parties, charity events, company outings; she loves to work out every detail. And considering my sister Grace went off and had a shotgun wedding in the South American sticks, she's missed out on both of the big ones.'

Chrissy didn't look convinced. She folded her arms in front of her chest. 'Your dad hates me.'

'No he doesn't. He disapproves of my lifestyle choices. It's not you, it's me.'

'Right then,' she said, deliberately ignoring him.'Just because your dad's a grumpy old b.u.g.g.e.r, let's not let it ruin the night. Come on, let's get p.i.s.sed and have s.e.x in the hayloft.'

'We don't have a hayloft,' said Miles, slightly affronted. 'This is a Robert Adam manor house, one of England's finest, actually, not some farm.'

Chrissy leant in close to Miles and gently bit his ear lobe. 'Well maybe you'd better show me,' she laughed in her s.e.xy, smoky way. 'Architecture turns me on.'

They took two bottles of champagne from the bar and Miles took Chrissy on an impromptu tour of the house: the library stuffed with rare first editions and eighteenth-century tapestries, the big kitchen with the giant bread oven, his old bedroom in the west wing, still decorated with sports cups and Airfix model aeroplanes. Her open amazement at the place charmed him. There was a quiet compet.i.tiveness between the rich which meant anyone of their level would not be able to bring themselves to compliment someone else's house beyond asking who their decorator might be. Only Alex Doyle had been as wide-eyed at the grandeur of the Ashford family home as Chrissy.

'Miles, this place is like a fairy-tale castle, only more beautiful. Is it as nice outside? Do you have one of those big maze things?'

Her eyes were slightly gla.s.sy from the champagne, but she was genuinely excited by Miles' lifestyle; not in a 'I've just hooked an eligible bachelor' way; more that she was actually pleased to be here, as if she couldn't believe her luck.

'Do you really want to go outside?' he asked. 'It'll be freezing out there.'

She giggled. 'I'll warm you up, don't you worry.'

They returned to Miles' bedroom, where they had s.e.x and rolled a joint and sat giggling, semi-naked, on his old single bed.

An hour later there was a sharp rap on the door. Robert Ashford entered the room and Miles waved his hand in the air to diffuse the sweet smell of dope.

His dad's eyes blazed. 'So here's where you are. It's your mother's birthday and she's seen you for literally two minutes.'

'Sorry,' Miles said smirking.

Robert sniffed the air. 'Are you high, Miles?' he demanded, his voice quivering.

'No,' he lied. Chrissy giggled.

Robert glared at her. 'I'd like a moment with my son if you don't mind.'

She looked at Miles, who nodded.

The two men watched in silence as she put on her dress and carefully closed the door behind her. When she was gone, Robert drew himself up to his full height and clasped his hands behind his back.

'How many times are we going to be in this situation, Miles?' he asked.

'I'm twenty-one, Father,' he replied defiantly as he pulled on his jeans. 'I don't need you telling me how to live my life.'

'Evidently you do.'

'Dad, it's just a joint ...'

'I mean about you marrying this tart on some beach in Thailand. Did you think for one minute how it would affect the family?'

Miles narrowed his eyes. 'She is not a tart,' he hissed. 'She is my wife!'

Robert chuckled, a cruel smile on his face. 'I was being polite. Wh.o.r.e might be nearer the mark.'

'Don't you dare dare speak about her like that!' yelled Miles. 'You don't know anything about her.' speak about her like that!' yelled Miles. 'You don't know anything about her.'

'I know she didn't work at the Coral Cay hotel,' said Robert in a superior tone. 'I phoned them an hour ago and they had no record of her. Where did you meet her, Miles? A go-go bar? A s.e.x show?'

Miles could feel every muscle in his body tense, a thudding headache building in his temples. He'd been here before, right on the edge of control, and he knew that if he let himself, he could walk across the room and tear his father apart. Not now, not this way Not now, not this way, he said to himself. There were other ways to hurt a man like Robert Ashford, ways which would wound him far deeper than a punch ever could. You've just made yourself a dangerous enemy You've just made yourself a dangerous enemy, Father Father, he thought. He took a long ragged breath, clearing his vision.

'She was a dancer,' he said finally.

Robert was looking at him as if he was some unpleasant worm he'd found crawling across his path.

'Is she pregnant?' he asked.

'No,' sighed Miles, suddenly weary of the whole charade.

'Was this ceremony legal?'

'Do you mean were we married by a witch doctor who blew smoke rings into the air when we said "I do"?'

'Well was it?'

'Yes, it was legal. We were married in Vegas.'

'd.a.m.n,' muttered Robert.

Miles barked out a harsh laugh. 'You are a horrible sn.o.b,' he said, shaking his head.

Robert laughed with an air of self-righteousness. 'Speaks the boy who walked around Oxford for twelve months in a gown ...' He trailed off as Connie Ashford walked into the room.

'What's going on?' she said irritably. 'I've just found poor Chrissy crying on the stairs.'

Robert waved an angry hand through the air. 'Poor Chrissy?' he mocked. 'She's a gold-digger, an opportunist. She is a destructive influence and Lord knows Miles doesn't need any help in that department.'

He glanced at his watch, as if this was all taking up too much of his precious time.

'On Monday morning I am speaking to Peter Murray, family law expert at Farrar's. Preferably this so-called marriage can be annulled rather than go through divorce proceedings. The last thing I want is to give her any money, but if that's what it takes for her to clear off, I suppose we can arrange something.'

Miles looked at his father with cold hate. Chrissy made him feel like a man in bed and out of it; there was no way he was giving her up.

'I am not divorcing Chrissy,' he said evenly.

'I'm not asking, Miles.'

'And I'm not one of your business p.a.w.ns you can manipulate and bully. I am a man now and you will treat me like one.'

Ignoring him, Robert ploughed on. 'You b.u.m around the world on hand-outs, then you come crawling back with a hooker for a wife and an STD no doubt.'

'Robert, please,' pleaded Connie.