Page 54 of Save Me

“I don’t get it.”

“Me either,” he says.

“You made it!” someone yells from upstairs. I look up just in time to see Cyril swing himself onto one of the banisters. He holds on tight, then slides down to us. Just watching him makes me feel sick. Wren pops up beside him but seems to prefer the safer option and takes the stairs. As he walks, he tips back his head and drains his glass.

Cyril gets to us first and greets James with a half hug, slapping him on the back. “I hope we made you proud today.”

I feel James tense beside me. “Yup,” he says in a neutral tone that’s not exactly overflowing with joy, yet without betraying the frustration he must have felt at not being allowed to play himself.

Cyril’s gaze lands on me. “And you are…?” he asks, as his ice-blue eyes scan me from top to bottom. He eyes my white blouse with blue vertical stripes and black pleated skirt, looking like he’s about to turn up his nose.

Arsehole. Like he’s better looking just because his black shirt probably cost more than my entire outfit.

“Ruby.” James jumps in to introduce us. “Ruby, this is Cyril.”

“Ruby! Alistair told us he’d invited you.” Wren grins as he comes toward us. I fight back the urge to look away.

“Hi,” I reply, forcing a smile onto my lips.

He says a quick hello to James, then returns his gaze to me. His leering, supercilious smile is sending me a clear message:This is my realm. I pull the strings here.

The next moment, James puts his hand on my back. “Cy, be a good host and offer us a drink.”

He’s speaking in that I’m-James-Beaufort tone, and although I’d never let him boss me around like that, it doesn’t seem to bother his friends. They just laugh and lead us past the stairs to the back of the hall. In passing, Cyril picks up a couple of the balls and throws them back upstairs, then he opens a door that leads to a large room.

It’s a sitting room, smaller than the entrance hall, but there must still be at least fifty people in here, chatting or dancing. The music is deafening, and smoke gets up my nose and makes my eyes water.

I’ve only been to a handful of parties before. Small get-togethers in the park in Gormsey and—once—a classmate’s fifteenth birthday party. She invited me out of fake politeness, and I went because Mum insisted on me at least trying to make more friends. I ended up spending half the evening standing in a corner kind of bobbing weirdly to bad music and counting the minutes until I could go home.

The sight that meets my eyes here is a million miles from that. Instead of cheap beer in plastic cups, people are drinking expensive spirits from crystal glasses. The music comes not from a cheap Bluetooth speaker but from a sound system with speakers built into the walls. And I can see acres of bare skin.

So, this is what a posh party’s like.

I look around, trying to take everything in. The bass is so loud, the floor is shaking under my feet.

When I look around again, I see a conservatory joining onto the room. It houses a huge brightly lit swimming pool—not that I’m going anywhere near that.

There are a couple of people swimming in their underwear, splashing anyone standing near the edge. Others are sitting, smoking, on velvet-covered sofas that look like antiques and must be worth a fortune.

I’m so overwhelmed by the situation that I don’t take in what James is asking me at first. “Sorry?”

James leans down a little so that his mouth is level with my ear. “I asked what you’d like to drink, Ruby Bell.”

A shiver runs down my spine and goose bumps spread over my arms. I ignore both. “Coke, if there is any. Or water.”

James leans back slightly and looks me in the eye. “Do you mind me drinking?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Great. I’ll be right back.”

The next moment, he and Cyril have vanished. Wren stays put, looking at me with that knowing smile on his face again.

“You don’t drink?” His voice is pure provocation.

It’s only sheer willpower that stops me turning on my heel and walking away from him. Or yelling at him in front of everyone. But I’ve managed to ignore him for two years—I’m not going to let a few silly comments rattle me now.

“No,” I answer curtly.

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