Page 33 of A Sky Painted Gold

“I think that’s overstating it,” I mutter.

“I thought we had a very nice chat,” Robert says. “You only threatened to destroy my newspaper once, and I didn’t even offer up a word of protest when you ate all my toast.”

“Oh, that was very big of you,” I reply.

“Oof, my head is still hurting too much to listen to all this back and forth,” Caitlin interrupts, and Robert goes back to his reading with a smirk. “So, what shall we do with this glorious morning?” she asks.

“Morning,” Robert’s voice drifts out helpfully from behind the paper, “has finished.”

“You know what I mean.” Caitlin waves a hand dismissively. “I think we should go down to the beach and sunbathe.” She turns to me. “Having a tan is getting to be so fashionable.” She sighs. “But I just seem to turn pink and then white again. Not like you and Laurie.”

It feels good to be paired with Laurie, even if it is only because I spend so much time scampering about outside. Also, despite my best efforts to stay informed, I had no idea that tanned skin was coming into fashion. I make a note to inform Alice later.

“I haven’t brought my swimsuit,” I say.

“I have a hundred suits, so of course you can borrow one of mine.”

“Thank you,” I manage. “What about the others?”

“Well, they have their own suits.” Caitlin’s head tilts to one side.

“You know what I mean!” I exclaim.

“They’ll all join us eventually.” She smiles sweetly. “Is there anyone in particular you are wondering about?”

I push my chair back and get to my feet, deliberately ignoring this. “Shall we go?” I say.

Caitlin stands as well. “Yes, let’s.” She moves towards the door. “I think you and I have a lot more to discuss, anyway.”

An hour later I am sitting on the golden sand, feeling self-conscious and adjusting the strap on my borrowed bathing suit. It is red, a lot more daring than my own, and I’m not used to wearing something that leaves so little to the imagination. Not that anyone else seems to be paying much attention. I look down at my flat chest. There isn’t that much to pay attention to, I suppose.

I lie back, propping myself on my elbows so that I can look out over the sea. It is a perfect late-June afternoon, and the water shimmers invitingly. The cove is quiet and secluded, and the sun feels good on my skin. I am happy to be here, to put off my return home for as long as possible.

I sink back next to Caitlin, holding up my hand to shade my eyes and watching the light dance through my splayed fingers. We have enjoyed a lengthy gossip about the night before, and I find myself surprisingly relaxed in her company. Now, Caitlin is flicking through a magazine and I wonder sleepily if I should go and find something to read in the library. Suddenly something drops into the sand next to me, making me jump. It is a book. I pick it up and squeal with delight. It’s The Seven Dials Mystery, the latest Agatha Christie novel.

A shadow falls across my face, and I see that Robert is standing over me. “I thought it was time the library was updated,” he says.

“I’ve been wanting to read this for ages,” I say, sitting up. My eyes linger for a moment on his broad shoulders before I turn quickly back to the book in my hands.

The quiet is broken by a whooping sound and the appearance of a group from the house party. Here is Patricia, and her portly husband, Jerry, and trailing behind them is Laurie, whose bathing suit is so scanty that it makes mine look practically Victorian. She is wearing a gorgeous silk robe over the top, but it hangs open, rippling at her sides and doing little to cover anything up. She positively undulates across the sand, a beautiful paper parasol decorated with pink cherry-blossom resting against one shoulder.

“Hullo!” exclaims an excited Jerry, who is casting not-so-subtle admiring glances in Laurie’s direction. “Isn’t it a smasher of a day?”

“It’s lovely,” I murmur.

Robert is talking to Laurie. She gestures back up the steps, and I see that Charlie is slowly making his way down to the beach, struggling to carry something bulky. Robert goes over to help with what I eventually realize is a lounger for Laurie to recline upon so that she doesn’t have to lie in the sand.

“Oh, what a good idea!” Caitlin exclaims. “I don’t know why I didn’t think about it.”

“You can have this one,” Charlie pants eagerly, depositing it at her feet.

“Oh?” Laurie arches one perfect eyebrow. “And what am I supposed to do?”

Charlie grins. “Your darling fiancé can go and fetch one for you, of course.” He runs a hand through his blond hair and puffs out his cheeks in mock exhaustion. “I’m certainly not doing that again.”

Laurie looks expectantly at Robert, who rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he says, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.” It’s strange, but the crackling feeling that you can’t miss between Alice and Jack isn’t there. Laurie and Robert are warm with each other, affectionate, but their romance isn’t how I imagined it would be. I remember what Laurie said last night, about passion being for outside of marriage, and I wonder again precisely what she meant by it. She and Robert are not at all the characters in the great romance that Alice and I made them out to be when we read about them. It’s almost a disappointment.

Charlie stands in front of us too, and I can’t stop myself from staring at him. He looks like he’s been chiselled out of marble. No, I correct myself, marble is too delicate, too refined. Charlie’s skin is golden-brown and he sort of glows. I don’t know how to describe it. He looks like an advert for good health.