Margaret Way - It Happened in Sydney

“I’ll teach you,” Ray called out with enthusiasm. Even sopping, Sonya looked glorious. A real erotic turn-on. The silk shirt was plastered to her high breasts, revealing peaked nipples and darkish pink aureole.

“Poor old you!” Camilla moved in closer to rub Sonya’s back consolingly. “But look at it this way. You’re not the first person to take an unexpected header into that pool. Paula should have known better. Where is she anyway?” Camilla turned her glossy head.

“I expect she’s upset,” Sonya heard herself saying, modestly pulling her soaked shirt away from her breasts.

“Like we all care!” Camilla whispered in Sonya’s ear. “Want me to come with you?”

Sonya tried a smile. “Thanks, Camilla, but I’ll be fine once I’m out of these wet things.”

Inside the house Marcus studied Sonya very intently. “I do so wish that hadn’t happened to you, my dear. You slipped?”

He appeared so shaken, Sonya reached out a gentle hand to stroke his cheek. “A silly accident, Marcus. Not to worry.”

“I wish I could believe that.” His distinguished face looked decidedly unhappy.

“It was an accident, Marcus,” she stressed, painfully aware she was dripping pool water all over the floor. “Let it go.”

Marcus glanced over to where Rowena, head bent, was having a few quiet words with David. “I’ll get you home,” Marcus said.

“But you’ve been so enjoying yourself,” she protested. “It’s been a lovely afternoon. I like to see you so relaxed. You would have to call your chauffeur back.”

Marcus shook his head. “That’s not a problem. It’s his job.”

Rowena walked quickly over to them. “I’ve suggested to David he take you home, Sonya. He wants to go now. He’ll take you if you’re happy with that?”

David too moved back towards them, addressing his uncle. “It’s no problem, Marcus, to drop Sonya off. I expect, like me, she wants to go. Your chauffeur will take a good thirty minutes to make the return journey. Rowena would like you to stay on a while longer.”

Sonya began to finger comb her long wet hair. “Yes, please stay, Marcus,” she urged, though Marcus looked most undecided. “The last thing I want is for a silly accident to ruin your day. I’ll ring you this evening. Promise.”

“Please,” Marcus answered.

So it was arranged.

THEY were out on the open road, the big car moving soundlessly except for the soft purr of the air conditioning. Neither of them had said anything for a full five minutes but all sorts of sparks were flying, each trying to envision what was on the other’s mind. Sonya was wearing a brand-new pink tracksuit Lady Palmerston had provided her with. David’s tracksuit was pearl grey. Obviously outfits like theirs were kept on hand for guests.

“I have an idea that wasn’t an accident.” David was the one to break the silence, his expression on the grim side. He had seen through Paula’s Academy-Award-winning performance.

Sonya shook her head. Her hair was billowing madly from the dip in the pool water, but it was almost dry after a few minutes with a hairdryer. Lady Palmerston’s Filipina maid, Maria, had attended her, taking charge of her wet clothes, except for her bra and briefs, which had been popped in the dryer so she could put them back on. “Entirely my fault,” she said.

“Camilla told me you were standing with Paula.”

“You can safely rule out any push.” She had seen the accusation in Camilla’s eyes, heard it in her voice, so it wasn’t difficult to guess what Camilla had told him.

“Can I now?” he asked, tersely shooting a quick glance at her.

“What happened to Paula anyway? Surely you didn’t leave her behind?”

“Paula came in her own car. She went home in it too. Very upset, or so she made it appear.”

“Poor Paula!” she dryly commiserated.

“Give me a break! “ he retorted. “Paula pushed you.”

“Paula never laid a finger on me,” she said firmly. “Though I certainly didn’t make that spectacular jump on purpose. Paula and I had a few words. It made me less cautious around the pool.”

“So, then, it was a planned manoeuvre?”

“I never said that at all.”

“You’re being very gracious,” he offered.

“It comes very easily to me.”

“Those aristocratic genes for sure,” he pointed out sardonically. “Anyway, I must apologize.”

She half smiled. “I enjoy hearing you apologize.”

“I thought you might. What were you talking about anyway?”

She stared through the window at the beautiful day. People were out and about in their numbers, enjoying the sunshine and their naturally beautiful city with its magnificent blue harbour. They were passing a small park, a lovely sanctuary of mature shade trees and broad stretches of lush green grass. Children were playing around a central fountain, others had claimed the swings, attended by their doting parents. One little girl in a pretty dress patterned with delicate wildflowers waved joyfully at her. Sonya waved back, a tender smile on her face.

“You, would you believe?” she said and gave a faint laugh.

He groaned, shooting her another quick glance. She looked ravishing with her white-gold mane draped like luminous curtains around her face and falling down her back. The pink of the tracksuit was perfect against her white skin. “So are you going to tell me?”

“No.”

He responded with a crooked smile. “If I say please?”

She shook her head. “You don’t need to know. But I will tell you this. She believes I’m a gold-digger. Her words, echoing yours.”

“A woman as beautiful as you doesn’t have to do a damn thing. Much less dig,” he said crisply. “Marcus is one thing. But why would I come into the conversation?”

“My dear David,” she answered with supreme nonchalance, “the woman would kill for you.”

“I assume you’re joking?” There was a decided edge to his voice.

“You should have a word with her,” she suggested. “It’s not every day a girl has two Wainwrights to choose from. She said I was—wait for it—after you as well!”

“She didn’t.” He almost cringed. It was up to him now to put Paula straight. It hadn’t worked before. It would now.

“Paula is suffering,” Sonya pointed out, not without empathy. “If you don’t love her, maybe you should put her out of her misery? Or is it the mother you’re worried about? I understand she’s the mother from hell.”

He laughed. “Who told you that?”

“As if I’d reveal my sources!”

“Raymond.” He hit on the answer. “Did he ask for your phone number?”

“He’s coming into the shop. He’s very attractive. I liked him.”

“He obviously loved you.” His tone was openly goading. “Isn’t that sweet? I’m so enjoying mixing with the megarich.”

He slotted the Mercedes smoothly between two little runabouts. “This will give the neighbours something to talk about,” she said.

“Aren’t you going to ask me up?” He turned his handsome face to her.

“I dare not,” she said sharply.

He gave her a smile that would make the strongest-willed woman go weak at the knees. “Oh, come on, Sonya. Do you get many visitors?”

“Not too many.”

“At the very least you can make me a cup of coffee. I want to see where you live.”

“You know where I live,” she said, in an off-putting tone. “In fact you never even asked for directions.”

“Let’s get out,” he suggested.

“If you must.”

The voice of caution kicked in. This is going to be very, very tricky.