“You’re not listening,” complained Nick.
Philip and Jenny had taken the children down to the beach for what remained of the morning.
“Might even swim to the boat,” Philip had said.
Jenny had laughed. “You just want a closer look at Craig’s new popsy,” she had responded.
Craig’s new popsy, Tanya’s mind had echoed. One of many, by the sound of it.
The sun was high in the sky and the clear turquoise of the water sparkled invitingly. That boat still bobbed on the water, but Craig still had not come ashore. Tanya’s awareness of that boat and its two occupants burned in her mind like a smouldering coal. When she thought of what he had said to her last night! She cringed with embarrassment when she remembered how she had been almost ready to believe him, to respond, even. Thank goodness Jenny had interrupted them. Jenny was right—he was more trouble than he was worth.
“Sorry,” said Tanya to Nick. She smiled to think of the number of times his words had been on her own lips. Her disturbed night and that boat out there were having a bad effect on her concentration.
“Look,” he said, “If I differentiate that function and put it equal to the gradient, shouldn’t I be able to solve the equation?”
Tanya looked at the diagram. It seemed to make sense. “Yes,” she said. She was not quite sure.
“Well, it doesn’t work. I get the wrong answer.”
Tanya’s brow furrowed as she scanned the lines of algebra. The white glare of the paper in the hot sunshine made her screw up her eyes. It was far too hot to work outside. “Your method’s right,” she said. “There must be a careless mistake somewhere.” Dammit, she couldn’t see a thing wrong with the boy’s solution. She focused her eyes on the problem, but the symbols merged into one scrawling mess.
“Why can’t you be a bit tidier?” she snapped.
Nick looked at her, clear disappointment showing on his face. “I did try. I am trying,” he protested. “You can’t expect me to completely change my handwriting.”
“I’m sorry,” said Tanya. He was right. He had been trying. “I was being unfair. I just don’t feel myself this morning. Let’s look at the next question and I’ll work this one through later.”
Nick turned the page and Tanya looked out across the bay, her mind drawn to that boat, which lay so peacefully at its moorings. Her thoughts were anything but peaceful.
“Is that how you do it?” asked Nick, bringing her back to the matter in hand.
She looked at his working. “Mmmm,” she said vacantly. She took off her sunglasses and rubbed her eyes. “I think so.”
Nick closed his book. “One of us needs a break,” he said decisively. “Come on. Last one in the pool gets the drinks.”
“You ought to put your shirt on,” said Tanya afterwards. Nick had pulled up two sun loungers to the edge of the pool. He had dried off in the sun and his shoulders were looking pink.
He rolled over onto his front. “Don’t nag,” he grumbled. “I get more than enough of that from Aunt Jenny.” He closed his eyes and rested his face on his arms.
“She only says what a mother would say,” protested Tanya, getting up to fetch a bottle of suntan oil.
“Don’t fuss,” he said irritably as she knelt beside him and poured a thin stream of oil between his shoulder blades. “I want to go to sleep,” he added.
“I’m not surprised,” said Tanya with heavy innuendo.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he mumbled grumpily.
Tanya smiled. “You had a late night last night, didn’t you?”
She smiled secretly, as she began to massage the sun oil into his skin. If it hadn’t been for his late night, he probably would have found out about hers. You had to be grateful for small mercies.
His eyes opened and he lifted his head in momentary panic.
Tanya smiled sweetly. “Where were you? What were you doing?”
“What business is that of yours?” he said sullenly.
“None, but your father might like to know you weren’t in bed with a cosy little exam paper.”
He looked up again. “You wouldn’t!”
“That depends on what you were doing.”
He dropped his head once more, but this time it was turned away from her. “I was taking photographs.”
“Oh.” That was a surprise. “Photographs of what? Or should I say of whom?”
“Photographs of Lydia. By moonlight. At the water’s edge.”
“Lydia?” She thought of the shy maid with her unobtrusive manner and her dowdy clothes.
“Yes. Why not?”
Tanya shrugged. She was exhibiting a sexist attitude of which she would normally disapprove. “Lydia…well she doesn’t strike me as the archetypal photographer’s model.”
Nick turned and looked at her. “You’ve only seen her with her hair scraped back. You’ve only seen her in those peasant clothes.”
“Er…yes…that’s true.” Nick, presumably, had seen her without them. The mind boggled!
“To me,” he continued absently, “she epitomises the essence of Greece. In her I see the wildness of scenery, the stillness of the sea, and the wisdom of the culture.”
Good grief! Nick Anderson, Dominic Anderson as she had once known him, coming out with such poetic perceptions! It just showed how little she knew him. “And is that all you did last night? Take photographs?”
“What’s that to you?”
“Nothing.” She poured more oil on Nick’s shoulders.
“Isn’t that enough?” he said irritably.
She spread the oil evenly and slowly worked her way down his back. “No, it’s not.”
“You won’t tell Dad, will you? About Lydia, I mean. He’d throw an epi-fit.”
He was right there. She bent close and whispered in his ear, “That depends on how well you’ve learned those formulae! Now, stop fidgeting! Just close your eyes and imagine I’m Lydia.”
He grinned as he dropped his head on his forearms and lowered his lashes. “Mmmm. That is a highly dangerous remark, Ms. Chardwell…”
A shadow fell across Tanya’s hands. Her sharp intake of breath revealed her surprise as she looked up. Her hands froze on Nick’s back.
“So this is why my son has such difficulty in concentrating on his studies!”
Nick rolled over and sat up. “Dad…what the hell are you doing…?”
“I think I am the one who should be asking that. And more to the point, why aren’t you studying?”
“Craig, it isn’t how it looks,” said Tanya, getting hurriedly to her feet. “Nick has been working very hard. He’s done awfully well and we were just having a break…”
“And you were rewarding him for his efforts,” he sneered.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” she reacted heatedly. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“Or was he rewarding you for yours?” he derided.
“How dare you!”
“Well, this is a touching scene! May I remind you that I am paying you to teach my son mathematics, not to introduce him to the pleasures of the flesh! How long has all this—”
He flinched as Tanya’s right hand, greasy with sun oil though it was, made impact with his cheek. “That’s enough,” he said, grabbing her wrists.
Tanya gritted her teeth and breathed deeply. “No, it is not enough. How dare you insult me like that! You drag me out here under false pretences, then talk me into staying entirely against my better judgement. And now, when I’ve made every effort to do my job to the best of my ability, you insult my professional integrity by accusing me of seducing a seventeen-year-old child!”
Even as she said it, the word child jarred. There was no doubt about it—Nick was hardly a child. She continued her tirade, “The hypocrisy of it—when you’ve just spent the night with a woman who’s young enough to be your daughter! Not that that stopped you creeping up here in the middle of the…” She clamped her mouth shut, remembering that Nick did not know the details of last night’s events.
There was a malevolence in Craig’s gaze that seemed to turn Tanya’s bones to jelly. She looked down at the hands that still gripped her so cruelly. The tendons stood tautly under the dark hairs of his forearm. The beat of his pulse echoed hotly with hers.
“Now who’s jumping to conclusions?” he hissed.
The seconds ticked between them.
“Let her go, Dad,” said Nick quietly. “You’re both making fools of yourselves.”
Craig exhaled angrily. “Not that an irresponsible lout like you would need much introduction to—”
“Shut up, Dad!” shouted Nick. Then he stepped forward and lowered his voice. “Tanya—Ms. Chardwell, if you prefer—is a nice lady, and a schoolteacher. I like her, and I respect her, and to me she’s got about as much sex appeal as Mary Poppins!”
He paused for his words to have their impact.
“So let her go, or I’ll thump you one.” What Nick lacked in stature in comparison with his father, he certainly made up in dignity and control.
Craig slowly released Tanya’s wrists. She rubbed where he had held her.
Nick caught sight of the reddening marks. “I think perhaps I’ll thump you anyway,” he said. Suddenly, he stepped forward, extended his right arm and pushed that solid wall that was his father’s chest with all his might. There was an extended moment in time as Craig’s centre of gravity fought for control, then his arms flew up, his legs splayed and he fell with an impressive splash back into the swimming pool.
As Craig surfaced, it was all Tanya could do to hold back her laughter. Nick didn’t even try.
Craig lifted his arms to the edge of the pool and began to heave himself out. His face was black as he stood up, and Tanya held her laughter.
“What’s going on?” interrupted a voice from the steps. It was Philip, leading the party up from the beach.
“Uncle Craig!” shrieked Emma as she threw herself into his arms. “Oh,” she said. “You’re all wet. You’ve made me all wet.”
“Good gracious me,” said Jenny, heaving and puffing from the climb from the beach. “Looks like something out of It’s a Knockout.”
Craig smiled weakly and pushed his wet hair back off his face. “Something like that,” he said. His eyes flicked sideways to Tanya even though he was addressing his sister. “But this game’s much more fun.”
He looked at Tanya, the corners of his mouth curling into a wry smile. “Mary Poppins, eh?” He shook his head. “Mary Poppins!”
Damn him! thought Tanya. He had still managed to have the last word.
“So to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” asked Jenny as she poured the tea. Craig had changed into dry shorts and T-shirt and was behaving with impeccable politeness.
“And when are we going to meet that popsy of yours?” added Philip before Craig could reply.
“She’d not my popsy,” said Craig. “She just came along to help me handle the boat.”
“Oh yes?” smiled Philip.
But Craig was not going to be provoked. “And we came to bring you all an invitation.”
“An invitation?” queried Jenny.
“To the grand opening of the hotel. It’s tonight. At least it’s not the actual opening—not all the rooms are ready. It’s a sort of preview for travel agents, tour operators and the media. There’ll be a dinner, Greek music, and folk dancing. You know the sort of thing. Should be fun. You can stay the night in the hotel. Longer if you like.”
“Sounds great,” said Philip with enthusiasm. “We’re getting a bit claustrophobic here. I, for one, could do with a change of scenery. And I’m sure you ladies could do with a break.”
“Don’t be silly, dear,” said Jenny. “We can’t leave the children, and we can hardly take them with us.”
“Of course you can leave them,” said Tanya. It would do Jenny good. “I’ll take care of the children. We’ll be fine.”
“Nonsense, Tanya,” interrupted Nick. “You go with Jenny and Philip. I’ll child-mind.” He looked at his father. “I wouldn’t enjoy a do like that—you know how I hate such capitalist squandering of resources.”
“You mean you wouldn’t want to participate in the celebration of the successful completion of my work.” There was an edge in his voice again.
“I’d just as well look after the children,” said Nick noncommittally. “And you wouldn’t want me to miss out on my studies, would you?” he challenged.
Jenny looked doubtfully at him.
“I can cope,” he said. “I’m not a child. And Lydia will be here to lend a hand.” He grinned at Tanya and winked. “You can leave me some work to be getting on with.”
Tanya’s pink cotton sundress, with its sensible neckline and its gathered skirt, was nowhere near elegant enough for the formal opening of a hotel, let alone a hotel reputed to be as luxurious as the Aurora Leisure. But it was the best she had. She folded it and packed it with her night things, her strappy sandals, and a change of underwear.
She hurried down to the water’s edge with her overnight bag. Philip stood knee deep in the cool, clear water and held the dinghy as Craig loaded Jenny’s and Philip’s bags. Jenny took off her sandals and waded in. She hesitated and spread her arms to maintain her balance.
“Okay?” asked Craig.
“No, it’s certainly not okay,” said Jenny. “You don’t think I can climb into that, do you? Not in my condition.”
Craig waded towards her. “No problem, as they say in these parts.” And he put one arm under her knees and the other round what had once been her waist, and lifted.
“Good grief!” he reacted. “Are you sure it isn’t twins?” he teased as he carried her out and deposited her on the edge of the dinghy. It lurched alarmingly as she centred her weight.
“Now your turn,” said Craig, turning to Tanya.
“I can manage,” she snapped as she walked hurriedly into the water, clutching her shoes in her left hand and her bag in her right. What was she doing? Why had she agreed to come? she asked herself crossly. She didn’t have to. She could have said no. The pebbles hurt her feet, but she kept going. She heaved her belongings into the dinghy, then pulled herself inelegantly over the stern to join Jenny. She knew the answer, of course. She didn’t approve of him, she didn’t even like him, but Craig Anderson drew her like a moth to a flame.
Philip clambered aboard just as awkwardly, but Craig embarked with a slickness that indicated a competence with boats in general, and a familiarity with this one in particular.
“You’ve been practicing,” said Jenny reproachfully.
He grinned and took the oars.
The next hurdle was the yacht itself.
“Hi,” called a voice as a ladder was let down from the deck.
Now that they were closer, the hull was surprisingly high out of the water. At the top of the ladder was a long, slender pair of evenly tanned legs that were attached to an athletic body which was scantily clad in a diminutive bikini.
Craig’s popsy, thought Tanya wryly. She felt a thin strand of jealousy uncurl in her stomach.
“You first,” said Craig to Philip.
Craig watched Philip’s ascent and then passed his bag up to him. Jenny followed, with Craig keeping one rung below.
“Don’t fuss,” Jenny snapped as he checked the position of her every footstep on each rung of the ladder. “I’m not totally lacking in common sense.”
“No, just in coordination.”
But it was good to see the concern Craig had for his sister.
“Now your turn,” he called up to Tanya. “Shall I come down and see you up?”
“Don’t worry, I’m all right.”
“Pass your bag up first, then.”
“No, really, it’s okay.” And she gripped the handle of her overnight bag in one hand and put one foot on the bottom rung. She didn’t need help. This was dead easy.
“Here, pass it across,” said Craig, as she reached the top.
She hesitated with one hand on the top rung and the other holding the bag. But as she stretched forwards, a swell of the sea made the boat lurch. “It’s all right, I can manage,” she said. She didn’t need his help and she resisted his grip on the bag as he tried to take it. The boat lurched again. Oh, well, she might as well let him help.
“Okay, do it yourself, then,” said Craig.
And they both let go the bag.
Damn, damn, damn, she thought as she watched it plunge into the gap between the two boats.
“Craig Anderson!” she spat as she stepped aboard. “You did that deliberately.”
“What? Me?” he protested.
“I’ll get it,” said a voice. And the bikini-clad body with the long brown legs curved into an elegant arc and dived. It pierced the crystal surface with barely a splash, and disappeared for a second or two, and surfaced. “Got it,” she called as she surfaced. She shook droplets of water from her short-cropped haircut and grabbed the ladder.
“Thank you,” said Tanya as the girl handed the bag back to her. “How stupid of me. I don’t know how I…”
The girl grinned. “Takes a while to get your sea legs,” she said. “Even in calm water like this. Hope everything’s drip-dry.”
Tanya’s heart sank even as her mind bristled with fury. Her dress! Would she ever get it dry for tonight? And if she did, what sort of state would it be in?
Philip stepped forward. “Hadn’t you better introduce us?” he suggested to Craig.
Craig smiled. “Sorry, old mate. All this excitement has made me forget my manners.”
“Did you ever have any?” was Jenny’s sisterly response.
He smiled and ignored it. “Jenny, this is Zandra Rafella. She’s our public relations executive. Zandra, this is my sister, Jenny, and her husband Philip.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Zandra. “I’ve heard so much about you all.”
They shook hands.
“And this, would you believe, is Nick’s maths teacher, Tanya Chardwell.”
Zandra extended her hand. “How do you do?” she said.
“Sometimes known,” Craig murmured quietly, “as Mary Poppins!”
Tanya had to look up as she shook hands. The girl must be almost as tall as Craig, and certainly taller than Philip. Her striking body was firm, smooth and athletic. And quite perfect. She made Tanya feel short, dumpy and utterly inadequate. How could she compare with this extraordinary beauty with her glamorous job and her exotic appearance? How could Tanya ever have imagined that a man like Craig Anderson could possibly be romantically interested in a woman such as herself?