Windfallen by Jojo Moyes Read Free Book Online Page B

end.”
    “That’s what you think.”
    “What’s the matter?” said George, dipping his handsome head to Celia’s. “Is Mater concerned for your moral welfare?”
    Something about the way that Celia and George looked at each other at this moment made Lottie’s chest tighten.
    “Well . . .” said Celia slyly. Her eyes held a sudden flash of promise. “There are an awful lot of big, bad wolves about, after all.”
    Lottie eventually settled down on the edge of Adeline’s wrap, fighting the urge, even as she sat, to sweep sand from its folds. She felt overdressed and suburban and had trouble keeping up with the conversations around her, which made her feel stupid. Adeline, who normally took pains to make her feel at ease, was engrossed in conversation with a man Lottie hadn’t seen before.
    Lottie sipped at her wine, trying not to grimace, and picked at a bowl of cherries.
    “Fabulous house, Adeline darling. More Moderne than Deco, don’t you think?”
    “Of course Russell is an idiot. And if he thinks that Eden is going to pay the slightest attention to him and his bloody scientists, he’s a deluded idiot.”
    “Did I tell you Archie has finally got one in the Summer Exhibition? Hung so that it looks like a postage stamp, but you can’t have everything. . . .”
    It was a long afternoon. There were no coconut cakes. Lottie, her cardigan pulled around her shoulders to try to stop herself tanning, watched the tide gradually ease away, lengthening the shore and turning an intricate sand castle that must have been made early that morning into a swollen pimple of sand. She could hear Celia giggling manically behind her and knew that she must be drinking. The girls only ever had wine at Christmas, and even the thimbleful of sherry they had been allowed before lunch last year had made Celia pink and her voice lift two pitches. Lottie had drunk half her glass before surreptitiously spilling it into the sand behind her. Even that had made her head ache and her brain feel fuzzy and befugged.
    When Marnie cleared away the last of the plates, Lottie moved around a little so that she could see Celia. Celia was telling George about “the last time she had been to Paris.” The fact that she had never actually been to Paris seemed to have little impact on her elaborate tale, but Lottie, noticing the somewhat combative body language between Celia and the blond woman, thought it would be unsporting to undermine her now. From under her sunglasses the blond woman’s smile had become more of a snarl, and, scenting victory, Celia had become exuberant.
    “Of course, the next time I go I’m going to have dinner at La Coupole. Have you had dinner at La Coupole? I’m told the lobster is fabulous.”
    She stretched her legs out in front of her, letting her skirt ride up over her knees.
    “I’m awfully hot, George,” said the blond woman suddenly. “Shall we go in?”
    Oh, Celia, thought Lottie. You’ve met your match here.
    Celia glanced at George, who was smoking a cigar, his head tilted back toward the sun. A flicker of something thunderous passed across her face.
    “I suppose it is rather warm,” George said. He sat up, brushing sand from his shirtsleeves.
    Then Frances stood up. “I’m getting overheated here, too. I think it’s time for a swim,” she said. “Are you coming, Adeline? Anyone?”
    Adeline shook her head. “Too, too sleepy, darling. I’ll watch.”
    But George, shaking his dark hair like a big shaggy dog, had started to undo his shirt, as if suddenly reanimated.
    “That’s what we need,” he said, tamping out his cigar. “A nice refreshing dip. Irene?”
    The blond woman shook her head. “I haven’t my things.”
    “You don’t need swimming things, woman. Just go in your slip.”
    “No, George, really. I’ll watch from here.”
    The other men were stripping off now, down to shorts or trousers. Lottie, who had wondered if she were about to fall asleep, had been jolted awake and was