Chapter Thirty-Three
India, Keera and Dan sit together on the beach and feel the sea breeze gently caress their skin.
India has come down in her bikini so she can swim. She stretches out on her towel, her body long and lean in the cherry-patterned bikini. Her skin is lightly golden and Dan tries not to look.
Keera lies back on her beach towel and closes her eyes against the sun’s rays.
‘I don’t want to go into Corfu with Bernard,’ she says morosely. ‘He’s appalling.’
‘I think it’s supposed to be good for him,’ says
India.
‘What about me?’ demands Keera.
‘I’ll come instead,’ India says.
‘We can both come,’ Dan suggests.
He knows it’s the right thing to do but he’s mentally sidetracked by India’s long bare legs beside him.
All he can think about all day is the night before and this morning. What it was like being loved by India: her laughter, the sense that making love could be fun.
She’s a bolt of wonder, truly sparkling. And she’s not asking anything of him.
‘That was lovely,’ she’d said this morning before he left and she’d kissed him lightly on the lips, leaving a faint taste of strawberries.
There had been no sulking over some perceived slight the way there always was after lovemaking with Julia.
Being with India and enjoying the way she liked her body has clarified things for Dan.
He has always known that if he doesn’t tell Julia how thin she is when they make love, she’ll freeze him out. She’s wonderful but there are so many complexes buried deep within her. He’s spent his life managing them all, handling Julia like a piece of fine pottery in case he breaks her.
But India – she’s a breath of fresh air.
‘No thanks,’ says Keera sighing. ‘I’ll go with Bernard – if he comes. He’s a good example of what happens when people refuse to see how their behaviour affects other people. Very Al Anon.’
When Keera heads off back to the hotel, India turns and smiles at Dan.
‘Don’t,’ he says but he doesn’t mean it.
‘I’m not in love with you, Dan,’ says India firmly. ‘But it’s fun being with someone when you aren’t planning the rest of your life, working out where you’ll both live and how many children you’ll have. Who knew that sex could be fun?’ she adds and, at that, Dan groans.
He no longer cares that they’re on the beach and that while it’s deserted now, anyone could appear. He stands up and reaches out for India’s hand.
‘Behind the rocks,’ he suggests, looking to the only hidden part of the cove.
‘You’re on,’ laughs India.
The tiny cove behind the rocks boasts one huge slab of rock that’s set at thirty degrees to the beach. The sun is burnishing it to a glorious, glittering warmth.
They sit on it and begin kissing, Dan’s fingers tangled in India’s hair, holding her tenderly, while her hands roam his body, loving the muscled arms, the flat plane of his stomach, the strength of his cyclist’s thighs.
‘You taste of strawberries,’ Dan says, letting his hands lazily skim her shoulders as he slips the skinny bikini strap off.
‘Do you like strawberries?’ says India playfully.
‘Never thought much about it,’ he groans as he nuzzles the erect nub of her nipple. He tries biting it gently and India arches beneath him.
