Trophy Life by Lewis Elli

Author:Lewis, Elli [Lewis, Elli]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-07-26T07:00:00+00:00

***

That evening, she and Harry were invited to the Somerfelder Splish Splash, an annual poolside party held at Somerfelder House by its owners Lord and Lady Somerfelder. A friend of Harry’s from Eton, Lord Edmund 'Honky' Somerfelder came from a long line of Barons who, in his words enjoyed, 'a jolly good Scotch, a decent hunt and someone quite a bit less decent to grab onto when it’s all done'. This declaration was usually followed by him guffawing and downing a shot or two.

Lady Somerfelder was a fiery thick set blond with ruddy features and a booming voice. When they weren't playing the consummate hosts with the most, the Somerfelders were often seen in animated discussions, typically revolving around the Baron’s extra-marital activities. Harry often joked that Lord Somerfelder was his investment property as he would eventually be worth a lot in the divorce market.

From experience, Amy knew there were only two types of women that attended the Splish Splash. Those who wore little to nothing, invited indiscriminately by the male host and those who wore tasteful and invariably expensive summer dresses coupled with discreet wedges, á la Kate Middleton attending a garden party. So, while Harry looked dapper in khaki corduroys with an unbuttoned shirt and light jacket, she paired a knee-length white dress with Gianvito Rossi cork wedge sandals.

A cacophony of twenties style music emanated from the brightly lit country house as they made their way on the vast stone driveway, a small bird zig zagging in front of the car as it approached the elegant Georgian frontage. Inside was an explosion of action which the house itself struggled to contain, allowing it to spill out as the front door opened. Raucously laughing men had chattering women on their arms holding onto delicate flutes of champagne, their voices competing with the sound system. Amy thought she recognised several of them from previous outings. She could see Lord Jonty Gloop, his hat askew, his nose already crimson, in an impassioned discussion with another man who she remembered as ‘Tonky’ Grunt, also known as Sir Antony. Meanwhile Ladies Isabella Forthright and Geneviève Lovett were delicately sipping their Kir Royals on the patio. They looked supercilious and bored. Then there were the people who needed no introduction because their faces were known around the country by virtue of their celebrity. She could already see Justice Harper by the pool, and was that a rock star’s daughter tickling away at the piano?

What confused Amy was that there definitely seemed to be a dress code. Whilst their clothes weren’t too dissimilar from her own, all the women were wearing twenties style feather headdresses with strings of fake pearls around their necks and some were clutching cigarette holders. Several of the men meanwhile wore top hats. Was it fancy dress? She had had no idea. Presumably Harry hadn’t either. As if in answer, Honky’s voice boomed through the crowd, parting it like a curtain on a string.

'We’ve gone Gatsby! Couldn’t stand the thought of another boring old pool party so this morning we thought we’d liven things up.

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