I feel him stiffen in my arms and lean away from me in horror, so I squeeze tighter, smirking into his shoulder. I let go and smile angelically. He looks mortified. He coughs, puts his hand out as though he is going to pat me on the head like a dog, thinks better of it and rushes to the car.

Then the car is pulling away. I stand in the driveway, waving enthusiastically as it disappears out of the gate, no one looking back. I have the urge to laugh loudly.

Martha is watching me from the door, concern wrinkling her brow.

“I’m fine, Martha,” I say as I walk past her. “We’ll have fun without them. And I hope they are paying you enough for this! I’ll put in a good word.” I wink as I go inside.

23

NOW

Helen struggled against the strong arms, twisting and turning to free herself, but the grip tightened as her wet swimsuit bunched and gaped, cutting into her. She could feel someone’s breath on her neck as she was dragged back towards the edge of the pool, her feet slipping in the puddles of water on the tiles.

She screamed in frustration and fear, pushed herself hard backwards. The crown of her head connected with something with a thump and the arms loosened enough for her to spin around and strike out again. Her hand made contact this time and she heard a squeal of pain.

“What did you do that for?”

“What the hell, Peter?”

Her chest was heaving, her breath coming in pants and gasps, the chlorine in the air and shock making her dizzy. Peter, the man who maintained the pool house, was crouched down on the tiles, holding his hands over his nose as blood dripped between his fingers. He had a red mark on his forehead from where she had headbutted him. “I was just messing about,” he said, his words muffled.

She sighed. “Come here, sit down,” she said and led him to a lounger. He sat obediently on the end as she straightened her swimming costume and threw on her robe. She used the end of her towel to wipe his nose, swallowing down a flare of annoyance at soiling a clean towel, then tilted his head back to try and stop the bleeding.

“You frightened the hell out of me,” she said, her voice steadier.

“Sorry, I just saw you in here and thought I’d surprise you. I haven’t seen you for a while.”

She was standing between his legs, still wiping at the blood while holding his head back. His hands moved up the back of her bare legs.

“You’ve been away,” she said. “How was your family holiday?”

“I missed you.” His hands moved higher, his fingers feather-light.

“Peter…”

“Ah, come on, it’s been ages. You haven’t called since I got back.”

“I’ve been busy.”