Katrina stood in the middle of the floor clutching armfuls of gift bags. She’d forgone her usual power suit and wore a white linen one instead with red heels. Her stiff coif remained and Liv wondered if it would collapse in the sauna. She queued with Jake to give the present to her sister-in-law.

“What did we buy her?” he asked.

She had already told him. “A beach bag.”

“Is that all?”

“You can sort out her present in the future,” she said.

“I only asked,” he huffed.

Katrina ripped off wrapping paper and peered into bags as soon as she received them. Never one to hide her feelings, she either grinned or grimaced at her gifts. When it came to their turn, Jake got a warm hug and Liv received a polite peck to her cheek. She passed the present to Katrina.

“It’s just a little something,” Jake said.

Liv kicked his ankle.

Katrina peeled off the tape and her eyes widened when she saw the logo on the bag. “Oh, wow, thanks. Have you guys won the lottery or something?” She laughed and hung it on her shoulder.

Liv smiled nervously.

“Glad you like it. Liv chose it,” Jake said.

“Thanks, bro. I love it.” Katrina kissed him again and darted off to show her new bag to a friend.

Jake scratched the back of his neck. “How much did that thing actually cost?”

“I’m not sure,” Liv said, averting her eyes. “Oh, will you just look at that pool, it’s amazing.”

She had put her name down for a facial and entered a room with three treatment beds in a line. Background music played a random mix of whales singing, monks chanting and bells chiming. She stripped off and dressed in a white robe, perching on the middle bed until Katrina and her friend filed into the room.

“Oh, Liv,” Katrina said, not hiding the disappointment in her voice. She placed her new bag down on the bed as if settling down a puppy. “I’m here with Marcie.”

Liv wasn’t sure if this was an instruction to leave or not and stayed anyway.

“And what job do you do, Liv?” Marcie asked, after the therapist appeared and started on their facials.

“I work for Essie Starling—”

“Liv is her cleaner,” Katrina intervened.

“Ooh, I used to love Georgia Rory and her adventures,” Marcie said. “Essie was married to that crime writer fella, Hank something or other...”

“Hank Milligan,” Katrina said, chipping in again.

“Why she left him, I’ll never know,” Marcie said. “He’s prime beef of a man.”

“You never see her in magazines these days,” Katrina mused. “She used to go to all the best parties.”

“I heard she had a face-lift that went wrong, and that’s why she never goes out,” Marcie said.

Liv gripped her robe. “That’s not true,” she said.

“Not that she’d tell you.” Katrina laughed. “You only polish her bathroom.”