Aristocracy Stories

I can hear the tap tap tap of a razor on a wash basin. Its distinctive sound resonates off the cold tiled wall of a bathroom somewhere behind the closed bedroom door. Gingerly I open one eye and begin to explore my unfamiliar surroundings, and instantly tiny, fragmented memories from last night slowly begin to slide into place. They form a disjoined and potentially ruinous story, a jigsaw puzzle where all the framework is...