Lunch was a nightmare of awkwardness. Afterwards, we set off for the beach, thankfully leaving Hoyle to return to his office. This time I made sure I was in the Jeep. Ingrid went with Dominique.
The beach was just a small stretch of sand in a rocky cove beneath the cliffs upon which Les Sarrasins perched. It was difficult to get to: we had to scramble down a rocky path, and the waves rushed in with more vigour than at the sedate beaches of Beaulieu. It was flanked on one side by nudists and on the other by gays. There were very few other people there and in a better mood I would have thought it beautiful. It did at least give me the chance to lie down, shut my eyes and ignore everyone else.
I spread my towel over a smooth rock next to Ingrid, lowered myself face down upon it and closed my eyes. I could hear activity around me. Guy and Tony had brought a cooler of beer and were getting stuck into it. It sounded like they were having some kind of father-and-son bonding session, but nobody else was interested.
It made me sick. Tony had just screwed his son’s girlfriend and yet he was quite happy to drink and joke with him. Guy didn’t have a clue. The girlfriend in question was keeping very quiet, despite Guy’s efforts to bring her into the conversation.
I felt a gentle tickle on my thigh. I turned and opened one eye. Dominique was lying next to me, leaning on one elbow, her uncovered breasts hanging down towards the smooth rock. A smudge on the inside of her forearm caught my eye, as though there were a patch of make-up that had picked up the sand. Odd.
‘Ça va?’ she said with a smile that could have been seductive, or could have been mocking, or could have been both.
I turned the other way. It was rude, perhaps, but it was the only way to make my point I could think of.
The other way was Ingrid. She too was topless, as was every woman on the beach apart from Mel. Although her skin was a lovely warm golden colour, her breasts were nothing like as full as Dominique’s, and she didn’t have Dominique’s curves. She was quite ordinary looking, really. But suddenly a girl my own age seemed so much more attractive than the supposed sophistication of Dominique.
I realized that Ingrid was watching me through her dark glasses. She grinned.
‘Sorry,’ I said and closed my eyes, too wretched to feel embarrassed. The sun beat down on my back and I think I fell asleep.
Some time later, I heard the hiss of a beer can being opened next to me. Then the shock of cold aluminium on my overheated back. My head jerked upwards. Tony was sitting where Dominique had been. I looked round. The others had gone. I scanned the waves and saw them splashing in the sea.
‘Want one?’ asked Tony.
‘No thanks,’ I said.
He took a swig of his. He was sitting a foot away from me, staring out to sea.
‘If you touch my wife again, I’ll kill you,’ he said matter-of-factly.
My throat went dry. I swallowed. ‘I understand.’
‘Good. Now tomorrow morning you are going to ring your parents in England. They are going to tell you that there is a family emergency and you have to fly home immediately. What the family emergency is, is entirely up to you. I will drive you to the airport and you will catch the four o’clock flight to Heathrow. Don’t worry, I’ll pay for the ticket.’
‘All right,’ I said. That was fine with me.
‘Good. And let me make it absolutely clear. I don’t want to see you ever again.’ His eyes glinted. ‘If Guy invites you here or to any of my other properties you will say no. Do you understand?’
‘Perfectly.’
‘Excellent. Now, I think I’ll join them.’
Without looking, he poured the remains of the beer over my stomach. I flinched as the cool liquid touched my skin, but I let him do it. I watched him climb down towards the waves: a rich, powerful man who wanted to prove to himself that he was still as young and good-looking as his son. Which, of course, he could never do. However much power he had, however much money he spent, however many young girls he seduced, he would always be twenty-eight years older than Guy. It was sad to see someone otherwise so successful in life fail to grasp this inescapable truth. But I wasn’t going to argue about leaving so soon. The prospect of six more days had been weighing heavily on me and now Tony Jourdan had given me the perfect way out. I wouldn’t miss him.
As soon as we arrived back at the house I excused myself, saying I wanted to go and lie down. Guy walked with me back to the guest cottage.
‘What’s up with everybody, Davo?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ I said.
‘Everyone’s acting weird. Mel’s gone ice-cold on me. Something’s up.’
I didn’t answer.
‘At least Dad seems in good form. You should talk to him more. He’s a great guy. It’s cool when you can talk to your parents like normal people, don’t you think? It’s hard to believe he’s forty-six. I just wish I’d had a chance to see more of him these last few years.’
‘Uh huh.’
‘What he’s doing with that French tart, I don’t know. Sure, she looks hot, but I think Dad can do better than that. What do you think? You’ve spoken to her more than I have.’
‘I don’t know,’ I mumbled.
‘Jesus, Davo, you as well! Cheer up, will you? What’s wrong with you? And why were you and Dominique so late for lunch?’
I was going to have to lie. I answered Guy speaking to my feet.
‘She realized I had a bit of a hangover, so she decided to give me some neat vodka. I took it. It worked for a little bit, but I feel even worse now.’
‘Stupid sod. I thought you said you’d never drink again?’
‘I won’t,’ I said, looking him in the eye for the first time. ‘Believe me, not for a long time. Now I’ve got to hit the sack.’
Guy left me to curl up in a little ball of my own misery.
I couldn’t hide in bed for ever, so I emerged at supper-time. Wine and beer were on offer on the terrace, but I didn’t take anything. Neither did Ingrid, nor Owen, who had appeared after a whole day spent on his portable computer. Guy and Tony were drinking more beer, Guy with determination.
‘How are you feeling?’ I asked Mel, who was holding an almost empty glass of wine.
She glanced up at me, as though surprised by the sympathy in my voice. ‘A bit shaky,’ she said.
‘Me too.’
‘Cheer up, Mel,’ said Guy, putting his arm round her and refilling her glass. ‘This place isn’t so bad, is it?’
‘Oh, no,’ she said, summoning a smile. ‘No, it’s lovely.’
‘We’ll go over to Monte again tomorrow. Check out a casino.’
‘Sounds great,’ said Mel, unenthusiastically.
I drifted away from them, leaving Guy working hard. I wandered over to the marble railings and stared down at the sea far below. As I watched closely, I realized that it was so far below that the sound of the waves breaking on the rocks was out of synch with the rhythm of the waves themselves. A long way down.
A voice spoke beside me. ‘This is awful, isn’t it?’
It was Ingrid.
‘Mel looks bad,’ I said. ‘Has she spoken to you about it?’
‘A little.’
‘How did it happen?’ I’d seen Mel laughing at Tony’s jokes all evening, but I had never suspected anything would come of it.
‘Everyone was drifting off to bed. Dominique had already gone. Apparently Tony started talking to Mel about the Romans and the watchtower. He took her over to look at it in the moonlight. Then he kissed her. Then...’
I shuddered.
‘Why did she do it? He’s in his forties, for God’s sake!’
‘He’s a charming man. He may be in his forties, but he’s sexy, and he knows it. Men like that have a pull for some women. Mel’s a romantic and Tony had engineered the most romantic of situations. He’s a pro. She’s an amateur. She never really stood a chance.’