‘I keep.’

‘You’re never nice to me.’

‘Exactly.’ Guy was staring into his cup. ‘And is it any wonder? This is the most disgusting tea I’ve ever drunk in my life.’

Maxine tried hers. ‘Oh bum,’ she said crossly. ‘The sugar isn’t sugar. It’s salt.’

‘I never thought I’d hear myself say this.’ He shook his head in mock despair. ‘But I’m actually beginning to feel sorry for Bruno Parry-Brent. Does the poor sod have any idea what he’s taking on?’

For Bruno, it was a first. Total honesty, not something which had ever featured particularly heavily on his personal agenda before, was what was called for now.

But if it was harder than he’d imagined, it was also necessary. Maxine had turned his entire world upside down. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. For as long as he could remember, he had been a committed philanderer. Infidelity had come as naturally to him as breathing. But that was in the past. His mad, bad days were behind him. The only person he wanted from now on was Maxine.

It was two o’clock in the morning and Nina was sitting at the kitchen table drinking camomile tea. Her long white fingers, wrapped around the cup, appeared almost luminous in the muted glow of the shaded wall lamps. Her face, bare of make-up, seemed paler still, but her voice remained calm.

‘So it was Janey Sinclair’s sister all the time.’ She nodded thoughtfully. ‘How interesting.

Janey talked to me about you, you know. I thought she was the one you were involved with.’

‘Not my type,’ said Bruno, because total honesty was all very well but some things were undoubtedly better left unsaid. He wasn’t concerned about his own reputation, but at least he could protect Janey’s.

‘And Maxine is?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re absolutely sure?’

He nodded. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Oh well.’ Nina shrugged and recrossed her legs. ‘It was bound to happen sooner or later. If I’m honest, I didn’t expect us to last this long.’

She was taking it well, thought Bruno with gratitude. But then nothing ever fazed Nina. It was what he’d always liked about her. ‘I didn’t expect it to happen like this,’ he admitted with a rueful smile. ‘And to me, of all people.’

‘Where will you live?’

‘I’m going to see Don Hickman tomorrow. Now the summer season’s over he should be able to find me a cheap holiday cottage. I suppose I’ll have to start looking out for another job, too.’ He paused, then added, ‘Unless you want me to carry on here ...?’

‘No.’ Nina shook her head. ‘Better not. I think we need a clean break.’

‘Right.’ Bruno gave her a concerned look. ‘Are you sure you’ll be OK?’

She smiled. ‘Of course I will. We had a good partnership, and now it’s over. It’s hardly the end of the world.’

Leaning across the table, he kissed her pale forehead. ‘Thank you. For making it easy.’

‘My pleasure.’ Nina returned the kiss, stroking his streaky-blond hair for a moment before rising to her feet and placing her empty teacup in the sink. ‘But it isn’t going to be quite so easy for you, financially. Does Maxine have plenty of money?’

‘No.’

‘Oh dear,’ she said with affectionate amusement. ‘In that case, it really must be love.’

Bruno, fast asleep in the spare room, lay spread-eagled across the bed with one foot dangling over the side. With tears streaming silently down her cheeks, Nina stood in the doorway and watched the man she had loved for the past ten years dream of the girl he loved.

Sadly, that girl wasn’t herself. But she had done absolutely the right thing, Nina reassured herself. Breaking down and begging him to stay – maybe even attempting to bribe him with yet more money – would only have earned his contempt. Instead she had been cool, calm and understanding, and it was much the best way because now they could part as friends. More importantly, it kept the door open. Bruno would know he could always return.

You’re leaving me now because you’re besotted with someone called Maxine Vaughan, thought Nina, who is undoubtedly beautiful and who makes you laugh. She’s probably brilliant in bed, too. But she can’t possibly love you as much as I do, and that’s why I’m letting you go.

Because it doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’m prepared to wait for you to come back.

Chapter 42

‘Oh Janey, I’m so happy for you!’ Maxine enveloped her sister in a bear hug and swung her round in the narrow hallway, trampling all ever the Sunday papers which had only just been pushed through the letterbox. ‘Look, I’ve brought champagne to celebrate. Where’s Alan, still in bed? Tell him to get up this minute and come and give his long-lost sister-in-law an enormous kiss!’

Janey, abandoning the mangled newspapers, followed her up the stairs. ‘You’ve missed him. He’s gone to the surfing club. He’ll be back at around midday.’

Inwardly relieved, Maxine squeezed Janey’s hand. ‘Oh well, never mind. There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Maybe it’s nicer this way; we can have a proper talk without interruptions, and drink all the champagne ourselves. Come along, grab a jacket and a couple of glasses; it’s time to hit the beach.’

It was cold but sunny, and the tide was on its way out. Down at the water’s edge, Janey held up the glasses while Maxine eased the cork from the bottle, aiming it into the glittering turquoise sea.

‘To you and Alan,’ she said with a grin when their glasses had been filled as they walked along. ‘May you live happily ever after. Cheers!’

‘Cheers,’ Janey responded with a dutiful smile. She was pleased Maxine was pleased, but it had also come as something of a surprise. Having anticipated suspicion, criticism and a million questions laced with Maxine’s own particular brand of sarcasm, she was still very much on her guard. Champagne on the beach and wholehearted approval weren’t what she’d been expecting at all.

‘This is from Guy, by the way.’ Maxine waved the bottle. ‘He sends his best wishes. Oh, and something else.’ Rummaging in the inner pocket of her ancient leather flying jacket, she produced a crumpled cheque. Your wages for last week.’

Janey was almost embarrassed to take the cheque. It seemed odd, accepting payment for something which hadn’t even seemed like work. But since refusing the money would appear even odder, she stuffed it into the back pocket of her jeans. ‘Thanks, I enjoyed it.’

‘So did they.’ Maxine rolled her eyes in mock reproach. ‘Although I’m beginning to seriously regret sending you there. Josh and Ella actually expect me to bake cakes now! And I mean real cakes,’ she added darkly, ‘with flour and stuff. Not even the kind you make from a packet.’

Both intrigued and amused, Janey waited to see how long Maxine could hold out. She was clearly making a heroic effort not to get down to the nitty-gritty and ask all the questions she would normally have blurted out within milliseconds. Janey, guessing that Guy must have had a stern word with her on the subject, made a silent bet with herself that Maxine would crumble somewhere between the smugglers’ cave and the rock pools.

The smugglers’ cave was still two hundred yards ahead of them, however, when Maxine, in the middle of prattling on about the hideous little brat with whom she’d costarred in the toilet-roll commercial, suddenly stopped dead and ripped off her sunglasses.

‘OK, that’s enough,’ she declared, fixing her dark eyes on Janey and daring her to move.

‘You’ve had your fun but this is downright cruel. It’s all very well for Guy bloody Cassidy to warn me against giving you the third degree but ‘I am your sister, after all. So stop pretending to be interested in my glittering career and tell me everything, before I explode!’

Janey glanced at her watch. Nine whole minutes; whoever would have thought Maxine would be capable of restraining herself for that length of time?

‘Everything you need to know?’ she said innocently. ‘Right. Well, first of all you sieve the flour into a bowl. Don’t forget to add a pinch of salt. Then you--’

‘Stop it!’ Maxine shrieked, picking up a dripping, slippery mass of seaweed and advancing towards her. ‘Tell me about Alan. Tell me why he left ... why he came back ... what he’s been doing ... what you’re going to do.’

The trouble was, by the time Janey had finished telling her, Maxine was no longer so sure she wanted to know.

What she found almost impossible to understand was the fact that Janey actually seemed to believe the incredible line her bastard of a husband had been stringing her. As far as Maxine was concerned, she’d never heard such a heap of total and utter bullshit in her entire life.

‘... So that’s it,’ Janey concluded, reaching for the Bollinger and tipping the last of it into their empty glasses. With a sidelong glance in Maxine’s direction, she said with a trace of defiance, ‘Go on then, your turn. You must have an opinion.’

Mere words couldn’t even begin to convey her opinion of Alan Sinclair, thought Maxine, almost beside herself with silent rage. But she also realized she’d been right about Janey, who clearly wouldn’t tolerate even the mildest of criticisms. One wrong word and she would leap to Alan’s defence. Any suggestion that he might have been less than honest and it would be champagne corks at thirty paces.

But she was an actress, thank goodness, and she could out-act even her unspeakable brother-in-law any day of the week. For the sake of her pride, Janey was going to have to make the discovery of just how unspeakable he really was, in her own time.

For the past week, Maxine’s dramatic talent had been stretched to the limit, pronouncing -

in entirely convincing tones - ‘When you have Babysoft in your bathroom, you know you have the best.’ Now, perched on a cold rock at the far end of Trezale beach, she stretched it that little bit further and said simply, ‘Oh Janey, what on earth were you expecting me to say? You’re happy, and that’s good enough for me. I’m glad he’s back.’