‘Not as nice. Messy. Male. Smells of booze. The maid will be there.’
‘Lovely,’ she said and raised a brow, deciding not to give in too easily. This was a new world for her and outside of the club it felt very English, so she wasn’t entirely sure what the rules of behaviour were. She wished again that she could speak to Claudette, maybe pick her brains about Englishmen.
‘I’m rather busy actually,’ she said.
His face fell. ‘Oh. I’m so sorry, I know I should have let you know beforehand. Thing is … it’s been a bit tricky. My mother has been over.’
‘From England?’
‘No. She has a place in Italy.’
‘Not staying in your … now what was it … messy, boozy, smelly apartment? Have I got that right?’
He laughed. ‘At the best hotel in Valletta, actually.’
‘And you preferred not to call me while she was here?’
He pulled a face. ‘There wasn’t time.’
‘Well,’ she said, knowing he was making excuses. ‘I’m only teasing you. It really doesn’t matter about your mother.’
‘So you’ll come to Lottie’s? I have champagne.’
She laughed and, meeting his unwavering gaze, she saw hope in his eyes. ‘As I said, I am rather busy.’ She lifted a hand to push back a stray lock of hair and her towel slipped.
In a heartbeat he was beside her, kissing her on the forehead, on the cheeks and finally when he put his mouth on hers, she let him. With one hand on her buttocks, he pulled her tight against him. It was one of those long melting kisses, and for those few moments time swelled and then stilled, and she was lost.
‘You have a beautiful bottom,’ he murmured in her ear.
She was ready to give in, let him have what he wanted, right this minute, here and now, because more than anything she wanted it too, but still she pulled back.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry about my mother. Please come.’
Her heart was pounding, and she could feel sweat blooming under her arms, but she tried to sound matter of fact. Even though her breath was coming too fast, and he knew it, she managed to turn away and with her back to him coolly said, ‘All right. Maybe. But you can wait in the street while I get dressed and you can take me for breakfast before anything else.’
‘I could watch you dress.’
‘Get out of here,’ she said and, now laughing, she bundled him through the door.
She took her time brushing her hair. As she glanced in the mirror, she heard her mother’s admonishing voice.‘No one likes a cheap girl.’Was she really planning to spendthe day and night with Bobby? She wanted to get drunk on champagne and allow him to undress her. Wanted to kiss him everywhere, all the way down to his navel and beyond. She wanted, no she longed, to feel everything. She had never made love, just fooled around, nothing like the explosive images she imagined now.
She pulled herself up short. It was ridiculous. She barely knew him. They’d been out together only once, and he hadn’t called her afterwards, just turned up out of the blue today with no warning – just assuming she’d comply. Well blow that! He clearly thought he was the bee’s knees, and she was someone to be dallied with, a dancer, not much better than a call girl. And yet hehadtaken her to meet his uncle. She made a snap decision to not simply do whathewanted and slipped into her glad rags. Today a navy blue cotton dress with a gently fitted bodice and a skirt accented with crisp white zigzagging lines, and at the hips a white bow. She had recently bought a new white sunhat which she twirled in her hands. A dab of make-up and she would do very nicely.
During what turned out to be a fabulous breakfast – croissants, fruit and especially good coffee – he raised his cup and said, ‘Cheers. Here’s to us’ just as if it had been a fine wine. She dabbed her mouth with her napkin and gazing right into his eyes, she haughtily told him it really was for the best if they weren’t seen together in public.
He looked surprised but also curious. ‘Why not? I want to show you off.’
She glanced up as three inky black birds flew past and then she saw a man standing on the other side of thestreet, shading his eyes with one hand, the other resting on his cane.
‘Do you know that man?’ she asked. ‘I’ve seen him before, and he appears to be watching us.’
Bobby glanced across and raised his hand in a greeting of sorts. The man tipped his hat and moved on. ‘I rather think it was you he had his eye on. He has quite a reputation.’
‘With women, you mean? But he’s old. Must be over forty.’
Bobby laughed. ‘The worst sort.’
‘So who is he?’
