Page 1 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
Chapter One
Lady Phoebe
“And then there was the time I accidentally took viagra at the Natural History Museum—complete shitshow. Honestly, never do it. I woke up the next morning and had breakfast with someone’s granddaughter,” Zara laughs, downs the rest of her drink while the others howl at yet another of her socially unacceptable stories.
I smile in the way you do to not make the other person feel awkward, although, I’m almost certain Zara hasn’t felt awkward or embarrassed a day in her life.
She’s a bit of a liability if I’m being honest.
I do like her, though, don’t get me wrong but she’s just a bit jagged around the edges, too aware of the fact that once upon a time she didn’t have money but now she does. When I went out with her, I felt myself over apologetic for our services to soften the blows of her harsh demands.
‘Oh, Darling, you do know I ordered a dirty martini and not swamp water? Why is there a gherkin swimming around aimlessly like a limp cock instead of three neatly stacked olives on a cocktail stick? It’s the simplest recipe in the history of mixology, my love. If you can’t make it correctly, I’ll go behind the bar and do it myself’ was said to the barely eighteen year old waitress at the Red Room.
‘If I was going to be doing bumps of anything it’d be cocaine not fish eggs. Go and get me a mother of pearl spoon before I shut this place down for abuse,’ was screamed at the waiter at Scott’s when I met her for lunch.
Cynthia is a fan of her, though. Mum says it’s because she reminds her of a younger, more calmer (if you can believe it) version of her which I don’t find hard to believe.
“You alright, Phoebs?” Digby whispers in my ear.
I blink out of my trance, rub my hands on my thighs and smile up at him.
“I’m okay.”
“Sure?” He smiles the same way he did when we first met.
“Yeah.”
Lean up, kiss his cheek because our friends have all subconsciously looked our way. It’s more so Connie and George who have been keeping eyes on us which is weird because I have people who keep eyes on me already.
It’s because of him. I know it is. It’s obvious that it is.
“Right,” George claps. “More drinks?”
Digby leans over the table, hands George his gold Amex. “I’ll get this round, mate.”
George frowns, an amused grin on his face, looks down at his brother then back to Digby’s outstretched hand. “We’re at my bar, mate—the tab is under my name.”
Digby aristocratic-ally smiles and wags his card at him. “No, I know but—”
George’s smile drops like it’s been thrown off a building.
“Think I can’t fucking afford it or something?”
“Um…” Digby clears his throat, shakes his head, puts his card away.
I bury my head in my hands and internally pass away. They couldn’t make it any more obvious that they don’t like him. Every time we go out, a small fire ignites in the middle of us. Every hour or so it gets slightly bigger and bigger until someone decides to throw vodka on it in hopes it will fizzle out but well…we all know how that ends. It doesn’t work. Will never work. Andeverytime I think it will, I leave covered in soot and burnt to a crisp.
George walks off to order us another few bottles of champagne. Connie eyes me over the rim of his gin & tonic while Spencer raises her eyebrows, looking all around like she’s never been in here before.
It’s a little before half past eleven on New Year’s Eve and so far, it couldn’t be further from a good night. The boys were pissed when I turned up with Digby as if I wouldn’t be spending new years with my boyfriend. Connie’s salty at Spencer for whatever reason. She’s just come down from Uni and already, they’re not speaking. Zara’s running around like the fucking Duracell bunny and Athena wandered off a few hours ago after a ‘heated discussion’ with George.
Nothing's been right since he left and part of me blames him for that even though he’s not here. He dropped a bomb and then walked away from the scene, completely unscathed while the rest of us scramble to survive.
I know he’s been watching.
I know he knows about Digby and I.
Why would he not know?
