‘I might.’‘See you later, then.’Claudia went back to her room, sorted out a few things for the laundry and wrote a long letter to a friend nowliving in Canada. After that she went to the pool, did twenty lengths and then sat in the shade with the whodunnit, feeling vaguely bored and restless.Over a toasted sandwich lunch with Anoushka at the pool, she turned the conversation after all. ‘I never had all that trouble with snow ski-ing. With snow ski-ing at least you start upright.’Anoushka was sitting beside her in a black swimsuit that screamed ‘expensive ’. The cut was very simple: just one shoulder-strap, high-cut legs and a very low back. She looked much older than sixteen, but that was also due to a figure that owed absolutely nothing to stick-insect supermodels.‘I never had trouble with either of them.’ Anoushka shrugged. ‘I can’t even remember when I started snow skiing. I suppose I was about three.’‘Lucky old you. It must be lovely to learn these things when you’re too yo
The thought of tomorrow’s trip didn’t cheer her at all. With her father there, Anoushka would be sulky and uncommunicative, and after this afternoon Guy would doubtless be tense and impatient, and she would be stuck between the pair of them, trying desperately to dilute the atmosphere.A barrel of laughs, in other words.She went to bed very early and very bored, and couldn’t sleep.Why did I ever come? Ryan and his wretched kissograms would almost he better than this. At least I know that particular devil.And talking of devils, why had Guy’s wife left him? Why did wives leave their husbands?Was he knocking her about?Highly unlikely.Playing around?Possible.Down the pub with his mates every night?Not the type.Maybe he had a horrendously possessive mother who drove her round the bend.Not the type to stand for it. He hasn't mentioned a mother, anyway. Or a father, come to that.What, then?While she was trying to answer this, the phone rang. Oh, help. What if it was Guy, saying
‘Then I absolutely must have some for Christmas.* She scooped a couple of tablespoons into her palm. ‘Can you ask him how much?*After a short exchange with the vendor Guy said, ‘He says it*s baksheesh. A present. Because you*re a guest.*‘But isn’t it terribly expensive?*‘Not really. They usually sell it by the kilo.*‘But I must give him something! 1*11 feel really bad otherwise!*‘You might offend him.*‘Then 1*11 buy something else. Half a kilo of black peppercorns. Those silly little tubs you get in the supermarket don’t last five minutes and I bet these are much fresher.*They wandered on, pausing to admire everything from camel sticks to battery operated toys to copper pots. The narrow alleys were crowded and bustling, plaintive Arabic song echoing from scores of radios.More than once, Guy shot an exasperated glance over his shoulder. ‘Anoushka, keep up!* Despite his efforts to amuse her, she was dragging behind, refusing to take an interest in anything.‘I do see what you me
After putting away more chicken curry, Guy said, ‘Anoushka had two kittens a year or two back. Kit and Kat.*‘And the poor little things both got run over within six months,* Anoushka said.Claudia felt a pang of empathy. ‘How awful.*‘They had no road sense whatsoever,* said Guy. ‘Engaging little beasts, but brainless as they come.*‘Mrs Pierce didn’t think they were engaging,* Anoushka said sulkily. ‘If you ask me, she got that horrible son of hers to come and run them over on purpose.*‘You know that’s ridiculous,* Guy said patiently.‘I don’t know any such thing. She’s an evil old cow and I hate her. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find she’s sleeping in a coffin up in her room. One day I’m going to hold up a crucifix in front of her and see if she screams.* Across the table, he closed his eyes with a ‘Give me strength* look.Anoushka barely spoke for the rest of the meal, and still less during their hour-long wander through the groves of date palms afterwards. She kept apart, r
And, in the circumstances, she wasn’t altogether surprised.There are two sources of tension cooped up in this car with him , she thought. One's right behind him , and he'd like to strangle her. As for the other . . .‘What’s your cat called?’The shock of a normal question from Anoushka gave her a jolt. ‘He started off as Little Puss and when he got bigger it was just Puss. Then he had the operation and started getting fat, so it was Portly Puss. And now he’s just Portly.*‘I hope he’s OK,’ said Anoushka.‘Thanks.* She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. ‘So do I.’ Suddenly she couldn’t wait for the dusty miles to pass so she could ring Kate.Before long another glance over her shoulder told her that Anoushka was asleep, and for ages neither she nor Guy spoke.Gradually, the silence became as pregnant as an overdue mother of twins. And, equally gradually, she began to wonder whether he was just miffed, because she hadn’twoozed all over him the minute he turned on his flutter techn
‘So was I.’'What? The T-shirt didn’t even make it over her head. It froze halfway and resumed temporary thigh-to-cleavage cover.‘I fell asleep. Crashed. Out for the count.*Why on earth didn't I guess? I was shattered enough to crash out, and I wasn't even driving.‘Then I’m glad I didn’t ring and wake you. You obviously needed it.’‘I should have set the alarm.’ His voice was no longer exasperated. Its edges had softened, like bitter chocolate in the sun. ‘Do you want a written apology, or shall I just grovel?’He added that little half-smile that would have melted anybody, and she was duly melted. Or perhaps woozed would have been more accurate. ‘No grovelling will be necessary,’ she said lightly. ‘It was a tiring day.’‘In more ways than one.’‘Hard on the feet.’‘And the patience.’‘Especially the patience.’For several long seconds, this verbal ping-pong ceased. Only their eyes spoke in the dark.‘How’s your cat?’‘Still with us. Just about.’‘I’m glad.’ His voice was like that
‘Sort of. I’m not sure.’‘What’s she saying?’ Paul said. ‘Tell Uncle Paul all about it, Claudia. Is he a cad and a dashed bounder who’s only after one thing, as your old Granny used to say?’ He launched into his Moany Old Bag voice that never failed to have them in fits. ‘That’s all they ever think about these days. I blame the television.’‘Will you stop it?’ Kate giggled. ‘This is seriousV‘Yes, dear. Sorry, dear. Tell me all about it.’‘She thinks maybe he didn’t really fancy her before,’ Kate explained, ‘but once he realized she fancied him like mad, it sort of got him going.’‘Well, it would/ Paul said.‘And she thinks maybe he thought he was in with a chance, and that’s why he tried it on.’‘He’d hardly try it on if he thought he wasn’t in with a chance.’‘Paul, you’re not helping!’‘OK. Let me speak to her.*There was a scuffle as the phone changed hands. ‘Sounds as if you’ve got yourself in a bit of a tizwoz, me dear,* he said. ‘Want some advice from the enemy camp?’‘Yes, ple
His voice was low and husky, and she knew exactly what he was going to say. Not, Are you sure you want this? He could hardly be in any doubt.‘I don’t have anything,’ he whispered. ‘Is it -?’‘It’s all right,’ she whispered back. ‘It’s fine.’From then on she was swept along in a red mist of urgency. Everything happened in a confusion of heat and need: his mouth on her nipples, the hot line his lips traced from breasts to thighs as he slid her bikini pants to her ankles, the shudder of ecstasy as his tongue probed fleet- ingly between her thighs.Then they were on the bed, her fingers frantic as she helped him get rid of his shirt. But when she groped for the fastening of his shorts he stopped her‘Don’t be in such a hurry.’ He took her wrists and held them, but his rough whisper only betrayed his own suppressed urgency. ‘Wait a little.’It was like asking her to wait for oxygen, but he made her. He tortured her with waiting, as his lips and tongue teased and sucked and flickered over