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reluctant feeling of well-being. Even the knowledge that Jake
was in the house, only a few yards away from her, couldn't
prevent her sense of enjoyment. She would have to think about
what she was going to do about Dominic later. For the present,
she was content to drift.
'Are you going to come in the pool?' Dominic asked now,
shedding his T-shirt on to the adjoining couch. Like his father's,
his skin could stand the brilliant heat of the sun without burning.
His small body was golden brown and healthy, his limbs strong
and sturdy without being fat.
'Later,' said Abby comfortably, slanting a grey-blue gaze in
his direction. She summoned a lazy smile. 'Wouldn't you like to
sit for a while before we go swimming?'
Dominic hesitated for a moment, and then he perched on the
edge of the lounger beside her. 'Why do you put that stuff on
you?' he asked, touching the glistening skin on Abby's arm.
'Don't you like the sun?'
'I like the sun, but the sun doesn't like me,' replied Abby ruefully.
'Or, at least, it makes my skin go red. Which isn't very nice.'
'Why not?'
'Well, because it makes my skin sore.'
'Don't you go brown?'
Abby sighed. 'I would. Eventually.'
'So why don't you?'
Abby bit her lip. 'Because I can't.'
'Why can't you?'
Abby regarded him doubtfully. 'Well you know that Mummy
models clothes, don't you?'
'You put on pretty dresses and get photographed,' said Dominic
nodding. 'Yes. I've seen pictures of you.'
'Have you?' Abby frowned. She didn't remember showing him
any.
'Yes. Daddy showed me.'
'Daddy showed you?'
'Yes. I asked him what you did, and he showed me some
pictures.'
'Oh. Oh, I see.' Abby guessed Jake had borrowed some
magazines from his mother for the purpose. 'Well, that's why I
can't sit in the sun without putting cream on my skin. Brown skin
doesn't look good on camera.'
'Mmm.'
Happily, this answer seemed to satisfy him for the moment, and
she was relieved he didn't ask her any more questions. She had
been dreading the one about how long she was staying. For the
moment, she didn't even want to think about that.
Still, Dominic was restless, and eventually Abby agreed to go
into the pool. It was something she wanted to do, after all, and
she consoled herself with the thought that if she stayed
underwater she might just avoid overexposure.
And it was delightful to cool her sticky limbs in the deep, clear
water. With lazy strokes, she swam from one
end of the pool to the other, and back again, before reaching for
the bottom. It made her realise how much she had missed her
daily work-out at the health club, back in Fulham. Even three
days without exercise, and her muscles felt the strain.
Dominic surfaced beside her as she swept her hair out of her
eyes. He was a good swimmer, having been taught by his father
even before he could walk. Abby remembered that when she and
Jake had talked about having a family Jake had declared that
teaching a baby to swim would be a first priority. With the pool,
and the ocean on the doorstep, it was imperative that their child
should be safe in the water.
Of course, she hadn't been around to watch him do it, Abby
reflected, a little bitterly now. Until Dominic was two years old,
she had only seen him on very rare occasions. Jake had
considered her lifestyle unsuitable for his son. And he still did,
she acknowledged, choking realistically when Dominic climbed
on her back and ducked her under the water. But the difference
now was that Dominic knew he had two parents. And, no matter
how objectionable that awareness must be to Jake, he was forced
to acknowledge it too.
The sound of someone's feet descending the steps to the pool
deck eventually reminded Abby that the sun was almost
overhead. She and Dominic had been having so much fun in the
water, she had forgotten she was supposed to be protecting her
shoulders, and she scrambled out of the pool instinctively, barely
glancing at the dark-skinned woman carrying a tray.
'Well, now, is that any way to treat an old friend?' demanded
the woman peevishly, as Abby snatched up a towel from the
linen trolley and, turning her back, began rubbing herself dry.
She set down the tray of iced fruit juice on the table beside
Abby's lounger, and put her hands on her hips. 'And I thought
you'd be pleased to see me,' she added. 'Instead of which, you
can't even say hello.'
Abby swung round disbelievingly. 'Melinda?' she exclaimed.
'Oh, Melinda, I didn't realise it was you.'
'I should hope not,' declared the old black woman
reprovingly. She stared at Abby with evident affection. 'Lord, it's
good to see you again, woman! I was beginning to think you'd
forgotten where we lived.'
'Oh, Melinda!'
Abandoning the towel where it fell, Abby crossed the
marbled tiles and felt herself enfolded in a warm embrace. Of all
the servants at Sandbar, she had always loved Melinda the best,
and the garrulous old housekeeper had been the only person,
apart from Abby herself, who had dared to stand up to Jake and
tell him what she thought.
'Well, then,' Melinda murmured at last, her voice sus-
piciously husky as she pushed Abby away from her. She fumbled
in the pocket of her apron, and brought out a snow-white
handkerchief to dab her eyes. 'Isn't this a fine thing?'
Abby felt suspiciously near to tears, too, but Dominic had
climbed out of the water now, and was standing watching them
with unconcealed curiosity. It made her realise that he might
misunderstand her emotion, and, making a play of rescuing her
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