Page 80 of The Last Kiss Goodbye

Their hotel was elegant rather than grand. Dominic waved at the desk clerk, who informed him that he had a telegram, which he collected along with their key.

‘I can’t believe we’re only here for a night,’ said Ros, kicking off her shoes and perching on the bed.

‘Don’t sound too disappointed. We’ve got Monte Carlo to look forward to at the weekend,’ replied Dominic, scanning the telegram.

‘Do you think they’ll check our bank balances along with our passports?’

‘I hope not, not unless they take overdrafts into consideration.’

He folded the telegram, put it back in his pocket, then glanced at his watch. Ros felt it was like a countdown.

‘I’m sticky and smelly,’ she announced, instantly realising that this did not sound very sexy or seductive. ‘I’m going to have a bath.’

‘Can I join you?’

She wasn’t sure if he was joking and she felt herself blush.

‘I just need to pop out for cigarettes. How about I pick up some champagne?’

‘My sort of bubble bath,’ she grinned.

He went to the bathroom and she heard him running the water.

‘Any other requests?’

‘Only that you hurry back.’

She smiled as she watched him leave, going over to the window as he stepped out on to the street, her eyes following him until he disappeared from view.

Her thoughts drifted to the Amazon expedition he was currently planning. He was due to leave in less than three months and she was worried sick about him, particularly as he insisted that it was to be a solo trip. It was like a black cloud that would occasionally drift in and block out the sun, ruining her mood – although she was determined not to let it spoil this holiday.

She opened her suitcase and looked for her toiletry bag. Pulling out her toothbrush and paste, she went to the sink and brushed her teeth, blowing into the palm of her hand to check that her breath didn’t smell of garlicky mussels.

The sound of the telephone on the bedroom table filled the room. The noise made her drop her toothbrush in the sink, but she left it to go and answer the phone.

She picked it up and said Bonjour in her best accent, but there was nothing but the sound of silence down the receiver.

‘Bonjour. Hello. Hello. Is anyone there?’ she said, not wishing to attempt the question in French.

Still silence. Ros put the phone back in its cradle and looked at it for a moment. At the back of her mind she wondered if they had been found out – an unmarried couple sharing a hotel room – but reminding herself that she was in France, one of the more liberal countries on earth, she giggled and dismissed the thought as soon as it had occurred to her.

The bath was run and Ros was ready for it. She stepped into the tub and sank back in the water, the heat snaking up her back like steam from a kettle. She lathered a bar of lavender soap in her hand and massaged it into her skin, submerging herself entirely under the water to wash it all off. As she resurfaced, wiping the bubbles from her face, she felt ready, reborn.

There was another flutter of nerves, but Ros wasn’t going to dwell on sex a second longer. Wasn’t going to worry if their bodies would move in tandem, wasn’t going to fret if Dominic could tell she hadn’t been intimate with anyone since . . .

Well, she could hardly recall when that occasion was. An under-the-blanket fumble with an unreliable economics postgrad student was the last sexual encounter she could remember, and it still made her cringe.

But tonight, for the first time in her life, she felt like a sophisticated woman. Not an angry student, or a bitter spinster, but someone who liked to travel, and talk; someone who could love and be loved.

Stepping out of the tub, she wrapped herself in a towel. Her pot of Nivea was on the bathroom cabinet and she scooped up a big dollop with her fingers and smoothed it on her skin.

As first, it turned her almost totally white – Dom’s going to find me here looking like a tub of lard, she thought, trying desperately to rub it in – but within a few minutes her skin was silky soft. She lay naked on the cool white sheets and almost wanted to purr.

Folding her arms behind her, she arranged herself on the mattress, feeling like an artist’s muse.

She didn’t know whether Dominic would love seeing her like this when he walked back through the door, or whether he would die of shock.

After ten minutes she began to get restless. She was cold, with the beginnings of cramp in her leg. There was still no sign of Dominic; she didn’t know exactly how long he had been gone, but it had to be over half an hour.