Yet she had hoped against hope that he would have a lucky winning streak or would reform and change back into the decent affectionate man he had been when her mother was alive.
It was a child’s dream, she thought now, something that bore no resemblance to reality.
She stood for a long time, not looking at her father, but hearing the clink of the bottle against the glass as he poured himself drink after drink.
Then the door was opened and two men in white aprons came in to take three chairs into the auction room. They returned to remove a table and two pictures from the walls.
Syringa moved to sit in the window seat.
She must have been there for over an hour before the two men came back into the room and looked uncertainly at Sir Hugh.
“Could we ’ave the chair you’re a-sittin’ on, Guv
