on the terrace one evening and I pointed out that the mountain was dotted with stars. Gina, my hostess, just laughed. “Your stars are lights from the shacks of the poor,” she said. “Don’t ever grumble about being rich.”’
‘That’s really sad,’ said Taggie.
‘Isn’t it? I thought what the hell am I doing here?’
Rupert yawned pointedly. ‘One might ask the same question.’
‘Rupert!’ reproved Taggie.
Flushing, Lysander jumped to his feet.
‘I’m really sorry.’
Suddenly Rupert twigged. This must be the boy who had cut such a swathe through the Paradise wives. There was no way he was leaving him on the loose to run after Taggie.
‘How well d’you ski?’ he asked Lysander.
‘OK. I’m a bit rusty.’
‘I’ll take you off-piste tomorrow if you like. Down the Chute des Fantomes, Chute d’Enfer, Descente des Diables — it’s got a lot of names. We could stop for lunch on the way down and talk about Arthur.’
‘That’s seriously kind.’
‘I’ll pick you up about nine-thirty then.’
50
Lysander went up to his room to find lots of messages. Then he hung up on Georgie because he was still furious with her. Next Marigold rang scolding him for staying out there.
‘Rannaldini’s back in England. He doesn’t need rattling any more. We’ve got to talk, Lysander.’ But he had hung up.
Ferdie was even more disapproving.
‘Why the hell aren’t you in Brazil? That’s a half a million pound deal,’ he shouted.
‘Go and sell some more houses,’ snapped Lysander.
‘The market’s dead. Gina’s just called. She’s hopping you walked out, and Martha rang. Remember Martha, your first success? She needs a Refresher Course because Elmer’s straying again. You can go on to Florida from Brazil. Gina said it was working fine when you buggered off. And office parties at Christmas have triggered off lots of unfaithful husbands who need bringing to heel when you get back from Martha’s. Loadsamoney, boy.’
‘I’m not interested.’
‘This is a partnership,’ said Ferdie angrily. ‘I’ve worked my ass off for you. I deserve my cut. There’s no way you’ll be able to hold down any other job earning this kind of money. Remember the mess you were in this time last year. And you don’t want to take on Rannaldini, he’s a dangerous bugger — you won’t have any kneecaps left — and Kitty’s sweet, but frankly, she’s not the right class and certainly not good looking enough. You shouldn’t be giving her ideas.’
‘You’re always grumbling I never have any. And shut up about Kitty.’
‘I’ll ring you when you’re in a better mood.’
Outside it had started to snow, whitely blurring the gold lamps and windows lighting the town square, wrapping the church spire in cotton wool. Realizing he hadn’t been to sleep for forty-eight hours and in need of Kitty’s cheerful company, Lysander wandered off to the vast President de Gaulle suite which Rannaldini had taken for his holiday. He found her plumping the cushions of a huge dark green velvet sofa and in floods of tears. He was appalled. The only time he’d seen Kitty cry was after the tennis tournament when she’d discovered she wasn’t pregnant. Perhaps she’d just got the curse again. Hell! He’d been hoping to get her into bed that evening. Then he felt furious with himself for being selfish.
‘Oh, Lysander, I’m in such a muddle.’
Lysander was about to take her in his arms when the telephone rang. It was Rannaldini in a rage because Kitty hadn’t cancelled the President de Gaulle suite. Why, after he’d left, should she live in the style befitting a great maestro?
‘I’m sorry, Rannaldini. We’ll move into other rooms first fing.’
Lysander was so angry that Kitty was being so placatory that he retreated to the vast bathroom next door, gazing stonily at the dewy bank of ferns and the red velvet steps leading up to a raspberry-pink Jacuzzi big enough to accommodate an entire string quartet. And the bastard wanted to move Kitty into some pokey little hole! He was tempted to pick up the telephone and join in the row. Instead, despite Kitty’s frantic waving, he pulled the chain noisily and then turned up the television — some French rock band — far too loud.
‘What’s that noise?’ asked Rannaldini sharply.
‘Nothing, one of the children,’ stammered Kitty over the din.
‘They should be in bed.’
Lysander had sulkily eaten all the strawberries in the fruit bowl and was starting on the nectarines when Kitty put down the receiver.
‘How dare you make all that noise,’ she said furiously.
Lysander looked up in amazement.
‘Kitty, you can actually be cross!’
And like a bullet between the eyes he realized that he was in love with her.
‘I just hate you being so nice to him,’ he mumbled.
Wiping his hands on his jeans, he pulled her towards him. Despite her wriggling away like a piglet, he kissed her and she tasted so clean and sweet and her young skin smelt so like a wild rose that he went on kissing her until the wriggling stopped.
‘I haven’t got any knees left.’ Catching her off balance, he pulled her down on to the green velvet sofa and, kissing her again, began to explore her body.
Beneath a dress drenched by the children’s bath water, he discovered wonderfully full, bouncy breasts and a waist no longer belted by spare tyres.
‘Oh Kitty, I’m mad about you.’
Then the wriggling started again.
‘You don’t have to be nice to me,’ sobbed Kitty. ‘Just to rattle Rannaldini and give me a sheen.’
‘This had nothing to do with Rannaldini.’ It was Lysander’s turn to be outraged.
Trapping her face between his hands, he forced her to look at him, ‘I’m doing this because I can’t not. I love you, Kitty. It crept up on me in Brazil. I was Kitty-sick, not homesick. From now on, you’re where I belong.’
Then seeing her utter amazement. ‘You’re as irresistible as Cambozola, you’re’ — he snapped his fingers trying to be really poetic — ‘as comforting as a baked potato full of butter on Sunday night. As-as-as welcome as a glass of cold water in the middle of the night when the ham’s been too salty. Oh, Kitty, I can’t say clever things but I want to be the hot-water bottle that melts your frozen heart.’
‘Oh, blimey!’ Kitty was fighting back the tears as she gazed up at him. ‘You’re so ’andsome, you oughta be on every Mills and Boon jacket but the girls the ’eroes gaze at don’t look anyfink like me.’
Now it was Lysander’s turn to grit his jaw.
‘Of course they don’t. They’re pretty.’ He ran his hand wonderingly over her blushing, squashed little face. ‘But you’re beautiful. And you’re beautiful inside, too, like Arthur.’
Realizing how huge a compliment this was, Kitty managed not to laugh.
Encouraged, Lysander suggested they romp in the Jacuzzi. But Kitty’s face clouded over.
‘We shouldn’t. I’m married.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Lysander only just stopped himself cataloguing Rannaldini’s women.
‘Anyway, it was so lovely, kissin’ you,’ sighed Kitty. ‘I couldn’t stop.’
‘That’s the general idea.’ Lysander began to unbutton her dress then, seeing her apprehension, ‘Let’s discuss it over dinner. Go and change.’ He yawned. ‘I love you, Kitty.’
But when she came out, jet lag had overtaken him. He was slumped, fast asleep, on the sofa, red juice
