‘Hullo. Did you sleep well? I certainly didn’t. Far too hot. I couldn’t sleep a wink, and what’s more I had this terrible nightmare about a jellyfish, and when I woke up I found this huge mosquito bite, and then the water in the shower was cold this morning.’
‘How did you get on last night, Imogen?’ said James, who’d brightened perceptibly at the sight of them. ‘I was worried Braganzi might have turned you into a Pattie Hearst.’
‘It was all frightfully exciting,’ said Tracey, laying out a large green towel. ‘Go on, tell them, Imogen.’
Imogen’s account of the events of last night, however, was slightly overshadowed by the counter-attraction of Tracey stripping down to the bottom half of a leopardskin bikini.
James, who was oiling Yvonne’s back, stopped in mid-stroke, his eyes falling out with excitement. Every Frenchman within 200 yards appeared similarly affected.
‘Get on James,’ said Yvonne, chattering with disapproval. ‘And do lie down, Tracey, and don’t draw attention to yourself. Go on, Imogen. How had the Duchess done up the lounge?’
‘Oh, in pale blue silk,’ said Imogen, still not feeling her audience was really captive, particularly as Tracey started to oil herself all over.
‘That’ll keep out the ultra-violent rays,’ she said.
Twenty minutes later, by which time every man on the beach seemed to have made a detour past their little group to walk down to bathe, and then return flexing his muscles and dripping water all over them, Yvonne could bear it no longer. ‘You’ll burn, you know, Tracey. You really ought to cover yourself up, and those — er — bits burn much the worst.’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ said Tracey, getting to her feet. ‘I think I’ll go and swim.’
‘Well, on your head be it,’ snapped Yvonne.
‘It’s not my ’ead it’ll be on,’ giggled Tracey, and she tripped off down to the sea, followed at a very indiscreet interval by a tidal wave of Frenchmen.
‘I’m going to swim too,’ said James and, before Yvonne could stop him, bounded off down the beach.
‘It’s disgusting the way she flaunts her bosoms,’ spluttered Yvonne.
‘Well, they rather flaunt themselves,’ said Imogen.
‘Such a bad example for James, particularly Larry turning up with her. I wondered if she knows he’s married.’
Imogen buried her face in the Bodley Head Scott Fitzgerald. She had given up Tristram Shandy.
‘She’s bound to burn,’ grumbled Yvonne, adjusting her cardboard beak. ‘People simply don’t realise you have to take it slowly in this heat. That’s why I never burn.’ On she moaned, until Imogen was quite glad to see Cable and Nicky walking towards them. She supposed, with Matt gone off to see Braganzi, they’d taken the opportunity to spend a couple of hours in bed — and both got out of the wrong side of it, judging by the set sullen expressions on their faces.
‘Good morning,’ said Yvonne, cheering up at the sight of Cable’s sulkiness.
‘What’s good about it?’ snapped Cable, throwing her flattened lilo down on the ground. ‘Will you blow it up for me, Nicky?’
He shot her a look which plainly said — Blow the bloody thing up yourself — then thought better of it and crouched down by the lilo, muttering under his breath.
‘I hear Matt’s gone to see Braganzi,’ said Yvonne to Cable. ‘You must be delighted for him.’
‘I am not! A fine holiday I’m having, with him wasting his time running after silly stories. He’d gone by nine o’clock this morning, and that’ll be the last I’ll see of him today most likely. He’s bound to be up half the night writing the beastly thing. He even asked me to find him a typewriter. I ask you, in a god-forsaken place like this. It’s getting more and more like Margate,’ she added, glaring round the beach. Then, turning to Nicky, who’d nearly finished blowing up the lilo, ‘Why don’t we push off to St Trop for the day?’
‘No,’ said Nicky, suddenly catching sight of Tracey frolicking around in the shallows with James, ‘we haven’t got a car.’
‘Well, let’s hire one,’ said Cable imperiously, following Nicky’s glance.
‘Too much hassle,’ snapped Nicky, corking up the lilo and laying it at Cable’s feet. ‘And it’s far too hot to drive.’ Cable’s green eyes flashed.
It was getting too hot right here, thought Imogen. ‘I’m going to swim,’ she announced, setting off towards the sea.
‘So am I,’ said Nicky, hastily following her. ‘You’re looking very choice today, my darling. Let’s get out of the line of fire.’
‘We’re over here,’ Tracey called to them, waving frantically, her long blonde hair trailing in the green water like a mermaid’s. ‘It’s lovely. And how are you this morning, Nicky?’
‘Admiring you breasting the waves,’ said Nicky, ‘or rather waving the breasts.’
They all laughed, and splashed around. Then Nicky did his spectacular flashy crawl out to the raft and back.
‘Oh, I wish I could swim like that,’ said Tracey.
‘I’ll teach you,’ said Nicky. ‘Just rest your stomach on my hands, now move one arm like this, and put your head down.’
Tracey emerged giggling and spluttering. ‘I wouldn’t call that my tummy,’ she said.
‘Oh well, give or take a few inches,’ said Nicky, smiling down at her. Suddenly they stopped laughing and just gazed at each other. Oh my goodness, thought Imogen, nervous but pleased as well, what will Cable say?
‘Come on, Imogen,’ said James with a jolly laugh. ‘I’ll give you a swimming lesson too. Ouch,’ he squeaked as he stepped forward, ‘I feel a prick.’
‘Again,’ said Nicky.
And they all collapsed into giggles again, which was all in all not the sort of behaviour to improve either Cable’s or Yvonne’s tempers.
When they finally came out of the water, Yvonne promptly sent James off to the café to get her some lemonade.
‘Can you get me a vodka and tonic with ice and lemon?’ said Cable.
‘I’ll come and help you,’ said Nicky. ‘I could do with a snifter myself.’
‘Don’t forget to make the tonic Slimline,’ Cable called after him.
Yvonne turned her attention to Tracey, who was sitting up combing the tangles out of her hair.
‘My dear, have you known Larry long?’
‘Not very.’
‘Well, there’s something about him I feel you really ought to know. May I be frank with you? He is married.’
‘Oh, is he?’ said Tracey, quite unmoved. ‘Is she nice?’
‘Very, evidently,’ said Yvonne. ‘And they’ve been happily married for seventeen years.’
‘Well, I expect he needs a holiday from her then,’ said Tracey. ‘Then he’ll go home all the keener.’
‘But put yourself in his wife’s place,’ said Yvonne. ‘How d’you think she feels at this moment, abandoned in Islington with the children, while you sun yourself on the Côte d’Azure at her husband’s expense?’
A shadow fell over Imogen’s book. She looked up and jumped as she saw Larry, a camera hanging from his neck. He put his finger to his lips.
‘My dear,’ said Yvonne, warming to her subject, ‘don’t you realise how physical men are? It’s so easy for them to be led astray by the sight of a pretty face. If I encouraged them, I could have hundreds of men and husbands running after me, but it wouldn’t be fair. Men are so animal. It’s up to us girls to take a stand.’
Larry had crept round to Yvonne, and the next moment he was growling furiously into her ear, making her jump so much she fell off her lilo.
‘How dare you?’ she screamed.
‘Bow wow,’ growled Larry. ‘Bow wow. I’m an animal being led astray by a pretty face. Bow wow. That nose does suit you, I can’t think why you ever take it off,’ and picking up his camera he took a succession of quick snaps of her.