‘I don’t blame you. The view is magnificent,’ smiled Ros, looking out towards the shimmer of blue in the distance.
‘Dommy, did I tell you we’ve just bought a place in the Hamptons? It’s a bloody long way, but Tony says it’s the new Newport. The sunsets over the ocean are stunning, and it’s so handy for Manhattan.’
&nbs
p; She focused her attention back on Ros. When she looked at you, Victoria Harbord made you feel as if you were the only person in her orbit.
‘So, Ros. Tell me about Monaco,’ she began, pouring out the daiquiris.
‘I thought you’d be there,’ said Dominic, helping himself to an almond from a bowl on the drinks trolley.
Victoria shrugged. ‘Tony went to meet some of his frightful boring Texan friends. I stayed here and topped up my tan. Frankly I couldn’t think of anything worse than spending an entire afternoon watching souped-up tin cans zooming around Monte Carlo.’
She took a sip of her cocktail.
‘But darling, tell me. Did you see Grace Kelly?’
‘Sadly not,’ said Ros, shaking her head.
‘She’s done wonders for the principality. Princess Margaret should have married Cary Grant. Maybe we’d have got our empire back.’
‘Well, we enjoyed it,’ said Dom, taking off his jacket and throwing it on a sunlounger.
‘You enjoy anything that involves fast cars and alcohol. I want to know what Ros made of it all.’
‘I thought it was like a weird zoo for millionaires,’ she smiled.
‘A sound observation. They go to avoid tax and feel they’ve succeeded in life because they pay an obscene amount for spaghetti.’
Ros laughed. ‘You’re not joking. It cost us over a guinea for two bowls of pasta.’
She glanced over at Dom and noticed how relaxed he looked. Relieved. She had known he had been nervous about her meeting more of his friends and had seemed to be particularly bothered that she and Victoria get on. After all, the hostess of Les Cyprès was one of his oldest friends.
‘Darling Ros. Do you have a swimming costume?’
‘I have three in my case.’
‘Three?’ asked Dominic.
‘A girl needs options,’ Ros replied. ‘Two bikinis and a one-piece.’
‘A maillot,’ smiled Victoria, putting down her cocktail glass. ‘We’re in France now.’
‘I didn’t think feminists wore bikinis,’ said Dominic playfully.
‘Why not?’ Victoria winked at Ros.
‘Don’t they demean the movement or objectify women or something?’
‘Feminism is about choice, Dommy darling. And if Ros chooses to show a bit of leg, screw the movement.’
Dominic grinned at Ros wolfishly.
‘Hear, hear.’
Ros went to the cabana to change. She felt washed-out and pale compared to Victoria with her smooth bronzed skin, and her navy blue one-piece was a little school-regulation, but she was too self-conscious to try the bikini.
Peering through the wooden slats of the cabana, she saw Victoria do a perfect swallow dive off the board. She entered the water with an elegant splash, and when she surfaced, rubbing her eyes, she turned and watched Dominic do the same.