‘Where are we going next?’ she said. ‘Let’s drive over to Antoine de la Tour’s place.’
‘We’re not going anywhere,’ snapped Matt. ‘We can’t afford it.’
‘Oh, don’t be bloody stingy.’
‘When I planned this holiday I didn’t bank on you spending 4,500 francs on a lot of feathers.’
‘I’m going to bed too,’ said Yvonne. ‘With Baby on the way, I don’t want any late nights.’
‘I want to go to Verdi’s Requiem.’
‘Well, you can’t.’
‘Why don’t we compromise?’ said Nicky reasonably. ‘Let’s go to the fair and win some cheap plonk at the shooting range, and have a party back in our rooms.’
Only Yvonne wanted to go to bed. It would have been like missing the last act of a thriller. After they’d been to the fair, they all congregated in Nicky’s room.
James, who proved a surprisingly good shot, had won a large teddy bear, a china Alsatian and two goldfish, who were swimming around in the bidet.
Imogen sat on the floor, too stunned by the hostilities at dinner to say anything. Nicky was filling tooth-mugs. Matt lounged on the bed blowing smoke rings.
Cable, who was extremely drunk by now, was pacing up and down, determined to keep everyone’s attention. She tossed back one mug of wine, and was about to pour another one, when Matt got up and took away the bottle.
‘You’ve had enough,’ he said quietly.
‘I have not!’ she snapped back.
She rushed over to Nicky and flung her arms round his neck.
‘I’m as sober as a judge, aren’t I, darling?’
Nicky grinned and pulled her on to his knee.
‘I don’t care what you are,’ he said, ‘but I like you.’
‘There you are,’ Cable said triumphantly. ‘Nicky says I’m lovely. I’m glad someone appreciates me.’
‘Cable, baby,’ said Matt, ‘at this moment the whole neighbourhood is appreciating you, particularly the people in the next door room. Keep your voice down.’
Cable slipped off Nicky’s knee and went over to the dressing table and picked up the transistor.
‘Let’s have some music,’ she said, turning it up full blast. ‘Imogen did a strip-tease last night. Now it’s my turn. I’m going to do the Dance of the Seven Veils.’
She kicked off her shoes and started to sway to the music.
‘There’s one veil gone.’
‘Atta girl,’ said Nicky.
‘What’s the next veil?’ said James.
‘My watch,’ said Cable, taking it off without stopping dancing.
A muscle was going in Matt’s cheek.
‘Cable,’ he said in a voice of ice, ‘turn that transistor down.’
‘Why should I?’ she said. ‘I’m sick of being ordered about. Veil number three coming up.’ She started undoing the buttons of her blue shirt.
James’s eyes were out on stalks.
Matt got to his feet, went over to the transistor and turned it off.
Cable seized his wrist. ‘Why are you such a wet blanket?’
‘Go to bed and stop making a fool of yourself.’
‘All right,’ said Cable defiantly. ‘I’ll find some decent music somewhere else.’
She opened the window and put a foot out.
‘Oh, don’t Cable,’ cried Imogen. ‘It’s terribly dangerous.’
‘I’m going,’ said Cable, starting to climb down the wall.
‘You mustn’t let her,’ said Imogen, running to the window and catching Cable’s hand.
‘Turn on the transistor,’ screamed Cable, who was hanging from the window.
Imogen turned, pleading to Matt, ‘Please stop her.’
‘Leave her alone. She’s just showing off,’ he said.
‘Oh, let her go,’ said Nicky. ‘I’m fed up with her tantrums.’
Reluctantly, Imogen let go of her hand.
Cable started to clamber down the wall, then missed her footing and crashed to the ground.
‘Are you all right?’ called Imogen, worried.
Nicky and James started to roar with laughter.
‘She’s sitting in the middle of the road,’ said Imogen, giggling in spite of herself. ‘I hope she doesn’t get run over.’
‘Most unlikely,’ said Nicky. ‘It’s a very deserted road, unfortunately.’
‘For goodness sake forget her,’ said Matt. ‘She’ll get bored soon and come in.’
‘But she might have hurt herself,’ said Imogen.
‘Cable yells her head off if she even pricks her finger,’ said Matt.
James put on Cable’s wig, and a pair of earrings and started to do a tango with the Teddy bear. Everyone got slightly hysterical.
‘She’s all hunched up,’ said Imogen. ‘I think she’s crying. I’m going down to her.’
‘Not by yourself,’ said Matt, taking her arm. ‘I’ll come with you.’
As they turned down an alley to reach the back of the hotel, Imogen stumbled. Matt caught her and suddenly she was in his arms, her eyes wide, her heart pounding.
As if by instinct, he bent his head and kissed her, and once she started she found she couldn’t stop. She was powerless to do anything but kiss him back.
It was Matt who had to prise her fingers away from his neck. ‘Easy, sweetheart. We’ve come to look for Cable not the end of the rainbow.’
He groped for a cigarette and, as the match lit up his face, his features were expressionless. Shattered, mortified, Imogen walked beside him. How could she have let herself go like that?
They found Cable lying in a huddle in the street. She was sobbing quietly. Matt was across the road in a flash. In the moonlight Imogen could see that her ankle was grotesquely swollen. Matt dropped on his knees beside her.
‘Oh, God, darling, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.’ There was no mistaking the tenderness and concern in his voice.
‘Please don’t go,’ said Cable, through gritted teeth, and as he picked her up to carry her inside, she fainted. When the doctor arrived next morning he said she had broken her ankle.
Chapter Seventeen
And that, thought Imogen dully, was that. In the simplest, if most painful, way possible, Cable had drawn Matt back to her side again. Once more she was the centre of attention. Nicky and James — mortified at having laughed at her last night — brought her huge bunches of black grapes. Yvonne, peeved at having missed a drama and furious with James for not coming to bed, was only too keen to take Cable’s part.
Cable, once her ankle was set, took every opportunity to wring every ounce of pathos out of her situation.
‘The terrible thing was,’ she told Yvonne, ‘that when I was in such agony all I could hear was drunken laughter.’
‘Disgusting!’ said Yvonne. ‘How could they have been so heartless?’
After last night’s heartlessness Cable had gone off Nicky again, but she insisted on Matt dancing attendance on her.
‘I think I could just manage a little soup. Could you possibly close the shutters a little? Is it too soon for another pain killer?’
She’s got us over a barrel, thought Imogen angrily, and then felt ashamed of herself. Matt, who was looking tired and on edge, drove everyone out of the bedroom in the end.
James, as a penance, was made to clean the car. Yvonne and Nicky went waterskiing. Rather half-heartedly they tried to persuade Imogen to join them. But she said she preferred to sunbathe. In fact, she just wanted to be alone.
As she lay on the beach she wondered if she’d ever been more unhappy in her life.
After yesterday’s day in bed her suntan had settled to a deep tawny brown, without any red in it. Her hair was streaked with gold. The beach was packed with week-end trippers. Man after man sidled up and asked her to come for a drink or a swim.
She was wondering how much longer she could stand it when a silky voice said, ‘Your sun lotion has spilled.’