Legacy Of Shame

‘It’s the heat,’ she lied, wondering if she would ever feel happy again, fully alive and carefree. She couldn’t imagine it, somehow.

‘Then go and cool off in the pool, poppet. Simon can find his own way up and Carlo’s busy in the library—dictating reports, he said. So you can have a nice, relaxing morning all to yourself.’

Returning to her room, she decided that her father’s idea wasn’t a bad one at that. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself a second time. She’d keep right out of Carlo’s way; there was no point in trying to make her peace with him. When Simon had been and gone Carlo would have his business discussion with her father and take off to the airport. Until then she would make herself scarce. The pool in the old walled courtyard would be as good a place as any to hide out.

Her old school regulation swimsuit was now too tight in various places, and the bikinis she’d lashed out on to replace it were, on consideration, barely decent. Shrugging her square shoulders, she decided it didn’t matter. No one would see her and she’d use a towelling robe to cover up as she walked through the house.

The water was deliciously cool, and a few punishing lengths of the pool left her feeling more relaxed as she finally turned over and floated idly on her back. If she didn’t think, if she simply concentrated on staying afloat, then she might be able to stay calm enough to say goodbye to Carlo in an hour or two, with some composure, at least.

The knife-thrust of pain at the very idea of having to say goodbye to him at all made her clench her teeth, made her knees jerk up to her chest in a purely reflex action, sending her down to the blue tiles six feet below. And she didn’t care if she never surfaced, but she bobbed up to the top, shaking the water out of her eyes, and saw Simon silhouetted against the sun, and wished herself down at the bottom again because she didn’t want to have to talk to anyone. She was too depressed.

‘That looks good.’ He sounded amused, breathless, too, as if he’d been running. ‘If someone would lend me a pair of briefs, I’d join you. Unless—’ his voice thickened ‘—you’d like to see me in the nude?’

‘Why on earth should I want to do that?’ she retorted crossly, diving for the steps and hauling herself up, because she had to get out of here. He had spoiled what little pleasure there’d been in the morning.

Frowning, she planted her feet on the tiled surround. On the last two occasions they’d been out together Simon had been far too pushy, his language at times too coarse for her liking. She had put up with it only because the only other option had been to stay home, miss out on all the fun, hardly ever see her friends.