Swimming Pool Sunday (7 page)

‘Mummy!’ Drops of water pattered onto Louise’s back, and a shadow fell over the sun. ‘Can I have a two-penny piece to throw?’

‘Can I have one, too? Can I have a pound coin?’ Louise reluctantly looked up. There were Amelia and Katie, standing over her in breathless excitement, dripping water onto her bathing-suit and leaving wet footprints on her towel.

‘Did you see me do a handstand?’ asked Katie. ‘Did you see when I did cycling in the air? Did you see when Amelia nearly did a backward somersault?’ She hopped up and down, so that her hair flew out and sprayed Louise with water.

‘Careful!’ said Louise, sitting up. ‘You’ll get people all wet. Now, where’s my purse?’

‘Here,’ said Amelia, promptly, holding it out. She watched carefully as Louise unzipped it. ‘A two-penny piece,’ she said. ‘Or a penny.’

‘And a pound coin for me,’ said Katie, doing a quick bunny jump on the grass.

‘Don’t be
stupid,
’ said Amelia. ‘A pound coin will never show up. And what if you lost it?’

‘I wouldn’t lose it,’ said Katie, giving Amelia a disdainful look.

‘Here you are,’ said Louise. ‘A tuppenny piece each. Now go and play.’

‘Watch me dive,’ begged Amelia. ‘I’ve got a really good dive.’

‘Maybe later,’ said Louise. ‘After lunch I’ll come and watch.’

Daisy stood at the edge of the grass and wondered where to sit. She had hastily changed into her swimming-suit as soon as Meredith had gone, then hurried down the stairs and out into the sunshine. Mrs Mold had been very welcoming at the entrance table, and had said, unfortunately, she was a bit tied up at the moment, but why didn’t Daisy introduce herself to a few people; she’d soon find that everybody was
jolly
friendly.

And Daisy had smiled and nodded. Now she peered
anxiously around, trying to ignore the spasms of nerves in her stomach; trying to look confident, and wondering who she could approach. To the right was a group of women, all gaily laughing at something. But most of them seemed much older than Daisy. She wouldn’t know what to talk to them about. Only one looked anywhere near Daisy’s age, and she was busy with a baby.

Dotted round the pool were more little groups of families and friends, as well as a few loners, stretched out on chairs or on towels. None of them looked up at Daisy, or smiled, or waved her over. In desperation, Daisy looked around for the American woman whose bedroom she’d walked into, but she was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the friendly owner of the house.

Daisy took a hesitant step forward. She was going to have to sit down somewhere. People would start to stare at her if she stayed hovering on the edge of the lawn all afternoon. She would simply find her own spot now, she decided, and then perhaps talk to people a bit later on.

Slowly, self-consciously, she wended her way through the chattering groups, stepping over beach-mats and bags, apologizing whenever she came within six inches of someone’s towel, until she reached a quiet patch of grass some way from the swimming-pool. Quickly she spread out her towel and lay down, trying to ignore the latent blush of embarrassment that was spreading over her cheeks.

From his steamer chair at the side of the pool, Alexis Faraday watched Daisy’s progress with slow lazy amusement. His eyes followed her, swivelling under brown lizard lids, taking in her hair, her eyes, her pale skin and her gawky grace. She moved, with painful awkwardness, between the prone bodies on the grass, apologizing where there was no need, biting her soft pink underlip anxiously. When she reached
her destination, she looked around, hesitated, then abruptly spread out her towel and lay down, as though avoiding gunfire.

Alexis stared at her for a few more seconds, and when it was obvious that she was not going to sit up again, he looked away. For Christ’s sake, what was he doing, staring at a child like that? She couldn’t be more than eighteen. Less than half his age, he realized, with a sobering thud, and he deliberately closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

A few moments later, he heard a cool attractive American voice beside him.

‘So this is how the esteemed lawyer prepares his cases. Lying flat out in the sun.’ Alexis opened one eye and grinned.

‘So this is how the great artist composes her canvases,’ he parried. Meredith shrugged, pulled up a deck-chair, and sat down.

‘This is work,’ she said. She smiled conspiratorially at him, and her eyes gave a tiny challenging glint. ‘We all have to take inspiration from somewhere,’ she elaborated.

‘Aha! Yes.’ Alexis shifted on his chair, and regarded Meredith quizzically. ‘Inspiration. So should I expect to see
Man sleeping by swimming pool
in your next collection? And will I recognize myself?’ Meredith grinned.

‘I shouldn’t think so. But you never know, you might get into one of Ursula’s water-colours.’

‘Of course.’ They both involuntarily looked towards the terrace, where Ursula stood happily, an old paint-stained smock of Meredith’s over her bathing-suit, gazing at the scene before her, with brush in hand. Tell me,’ Alexis added casually, ‘how is Ursula’s painting going?’ Meredith looked away.

‘She paints a lot,’ she said distantly.

‘And, no doubt, she’s improving as she goes,’ suggested Alexis gravely. Meredith bit her lip.
‘Something like that.’ There was a short pause, then suddenly Meredith emitted a strange snuffle that sounded a bit like a laugh. Alexis looked at her in mock-surprise.

‘Something wrong?’ Meredith shook her head and clutched her mouth. Her shoulders shook.

‘She’s terrible!’ she whispered suddenly, and gave a half-suppressed, half-hysterical giggle. She leaned closer to Alexis. ‘I can’t
tell
you how bad she is! I thought she’d get better; I even encouraged her, but …’

Alexis began to chuckle.

‘And the thing is,’ Meredith continued, wiping her mirth-filled eyes, ‘everybody in Melbrook thinks she’s a fucking genius! She’s even had a show!’ She began to shake again. ‘And I bought the first picture!’

Suddenly she sat up. ‘And where were you at the show?’ she demanded. ‘We sent you an invitation.’

‘I know you did,’ agreed Alexis. ‘I was working, I’m afraid.’

‘You work too hard,’ said Meredith accusingly. ‘We never see you.’ She pushed back her long dark hair, and a pair of green eyes shone at him out of a tanned vibrant face. ‘I thought country lawyers were supposed to take every afternoon off to play golf.’

‘They do,’ said Alexis. ‘Unfortunately I don’t play golf.’ Then his expression changed and he sighed. ‘You’re right, I don’t come over here enough. I should do, it’s really not very far. But then, you know, these days I don’t really seem to do anything enough.’

He seemed about to elaborate, and Meredith leaned forward interestedly. But suddenly Ursula’s voice broke in from behind.

‘Oh, Meredith dear,’ she said. ‘My painting’s going so well today! You must come and have a look. And, look, it’s Alexis! When did you get here? Hugh never said.’

‘Ursula!’ Alexis stood up, an elegant man with a slim figure which belied his greying temples and slightly
hooded eyes. ‘It’s lovely to see you. Now let me come and look at this painting. Meredith, you can give us your expert opinion.’

He linked arms with each of the women, giving Meredith a little conspiratorial squeeze. And as he did so, and as they began walking together towards Ursula’s easel, bare arm linked with bare arm, bare leg brushing against bare leg, Meredith felt her stomach leap, and her cheeks pinken and, in spite of herself, her heart begin to beat just a little more quickly.

As morning turned into afternoon, the air became more still, the sun seemed to expand, and the heat intensified. Voices around the pool became lower, as though confiding secrets; many people fell asleep in a post-picnic torpor.

Barnaby and Hugh sat side by side on their deck-chairs, in a companionable silence. By the diving-board, Louise was standing with her arms folded, watching Amelia and Katie diving, and sporadically offering help and encouragement. Their cries of, ‘Watch me!’ rang through the sleepy, subdued, heat-filled air, along with the squeals of some younger children splashing in the shallow end. Hugh glanced at Barnaby and gestured towards Louise.

‘Hard for you,’ he said succinctly. Barnaby shrugged.

‘I’m all right. It could be worse …’ He broke off.

Hugh nodded understandingly. There was another silence between them. Then Hugh said, ‘If you ever feel like getting away …’ Barnaby exhaled sharply.

‘I do,’ he said, ‘frequently,’ Hugh leaned back a little; shifted himself in his deck-chair.

‘There’s always our cottage in France. Use that; you can drive over.’ He turned his head towards Barnaby. ‘I mean it. If you feel you need some time on your own.’ He paused. ‘We went there, after Simon …’ He broke off.

‘Of course,’ said Barnaby. ‘I remember.’ He turned his head towards Hugh.

‘I’m very grateful,’ he said simply. ‘It’s good of you to offer.’ Hugh shrugged.

‘It’s extremely difficult to get things in perspective when you rub up against them every day. Difficult for both of you.’ There was a pause, and Hugh looked over towards Louise. ‘Can’t be easy for Louise, either,’ he said.

Barnaby felt a sudden spurt of indignation, as though Hugh had suddenly changed sides halfway through the match. But he managed to say, ‘No, I’m sure it’s very difficult for her, too.’

Hugh eyed Barnaby with amusement.

‘I don’t think you really mean that. And, fair enough, why should you? But I believe I’m right; that you’re both suffering at the moment.’ He leaned back and closed his eyes. ‘At any rate, it’s you I’m offering the cottage to. Take it any time, we haven’t any particular plans this summer.’

‘Thank you,’ said Barnaby. He suddenly wanted to say more; to confide in Hugh; to ask his advice; to relate the story of his betrayal with the anger and pain which he had so far shown to nobody save Louise. But instead, he said again, ‘Thank you,’ in a voice that faltered slightly. Then he lay back, closed his eyes, and waited, miserably, for the onslaught of his own tangled, anguished, unavoidable thoughts.

Louise was unwillingly standing in the heat of the sun, watching Amelia and Katie cavorting in the water. Every time she attempted to leave, they called desperately to her again, requesting her to witness yet another obscure acrobatic feat. As she stood, she saw Barnaby and Hugh talking quietly and gesturing towards her, and felt a surge of hot embarrassed fury. She could guess what Hugh thought of her. The Delaneys had always been more Barnaby’s friends than hers; no doubt
Barnaby was now pouring out some tale of woe to overly sympathetic ears.

‘Hurry up,’ she said sharply to Katie, who was dithering on the diving-board. She could feel Hugh’s quizzical eyes on her, and determinedly ignored them. What was he thinking? Probably notching up even more black marks against her, for venting her frustrations on an innocent child. Katie looked up, surprised.

‘I’m just making it bouncy,’ she said.

‘Yes, hurry up,’ said Amelia, who was waiting behind to have her go. ‘You always take ages.’

‘I don’t!’

‘Yes you do! Slowcoach!’

‘Mummy!’ Katie’s shrill voice appealed to Louise. ‘She called me a slowcoach.’

‘Well then, get on with it,’ said Louise firmly.

‘Yes, come on!’

Still Katie remained at the end of the board, and suddenly Amelia impatiently ran a few steps onto the diving-board, stamping hard. Katie gave a shriek and jumped off the end of the diving-board. When she surfaced, she was squealing angrily.

‘That’s not fair! Amelia, you …’ But she didn’t have time to finish before Amelia leaped off the diving-board, curled into a ball and dive-bombed her with an enormous splash.

Ursula, walking by the pool, looked at these goings-on with alarm. She quickly approached Louise.

‘Dear, I think perhaps you should calm the children down a bit; they seem terribly excited.’ Louise turned round at her voice. Bloody Ursula. Another censorious face, another voice of disapproval. So now, not only was she a heartless hussy for splitting up with Barnaby, she was also an inadequate mother.

‘They’re fine, Ursula,’ she said tightly. She waited for Ursula to come out with another tactless comment about Barnaby. Perhaps, this time, she would say,
Oh, wasn’t it a shame for the children.

But Ursula’s eyes were on Katie.

‘Hello, Katie!’ she called.

‘Hello, Mrs Delaney,’ Katie called back. ‘Do you want to watch Amelia swimming under my legs? It’s really clever.’ Ursula glanced hastily at Louise, who allowed herself the satisfaction of a small smile.

‘Yes, why don’t you watch the girls?’ she said, with distant amusement. ‘You’ll find it’s tremendous fun.’ And quickly, before Ursula could protest, she stalked off.

Meredith had fallen asleep, lying on a chair next to Alexis. For a while, from behind his sunglasses, he affectionately watched her sleeping. His eyes ran idly over her face, and then over her tanned skin, and her long legs, and her strong narrow feet, and her determined hands. He paused, staring at Meredith’s hands, and counted to ten. Then, holding his breath and without moving his head, he shifted his attention away from Meredith and towards the young girl with the pale skin and dark clouds of hair.

She was sitting up on her towel, now, pushing her heavy hair off her neck as though she were too hot, looking around cautiously. The patch of grass on which she was sitting was, by this hour of the afternoon, partially shaded by a tree, and as she moved, lacy, leafy shadows gently dappled her white skin. Slowly she rose to her feet, tugging awkwardly at her bathing-suit and pushing her hair back again. She glanced nervously at the family group sitting near her, then, as the father of the family rose his head questioningly, flushed and looked away again.

Alexis watched in fascination as she traced a halting solitary path towards the swimming-pool. She paused by the edge and looked at the water doubtfully, as though not entirely sure whether it was meant for her.
Then, slowly, she dipped in a toe. As she did so, her long milky-pale leg was reflected in the glimmering blue water, so that it briefly appeared to be one long swan-neck limb.