CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Melissa crushed half a Weetabix into a dish and poured just enough milk to dampen it. She was going to visit the stables with Connie in the afternoon, and she didn’t want to feel faint. She’d have the other half with an apple for her lunch before she got the Dart to Greystones. Her mom was in the dining room working on her laptop and making calls, and Melissa knew better than to disturb her. She strolled out on to the balcony and sat at the wrought-iron table, eating very slowly. She was starving. Once she’d found out they were going on holiday, she’d cut back big time so she wouldn’t look like an elephant in her bathing togs.
She was worried, though: it seemed her parents had copped that she was dieting. In the last few days, Barry had been cooking dinners and insisting that she eat with them and, once, when she’d left the table immediately after the meal to go and throw up, she’d found him waiting outside the door for her.
‘Are you ill, Muffin? Did I hear you getting sick?’ he’d asked, even though she’d done it as quietly as she possibly could.
‘No, Dad, I’m fine, I was just clearing my throat,’ she fibbed, hoping that he believed her. She sighed as she ate another little spoonful. She’d leave her dirty dish in the sink so that her mom could see that she’d eaten breakfast. The other half of the Weetabix was wrapped up in clingfilm in her handbag.
In two days’ time she’d be in Disneyworld, and then Paris, and then the south of France. They were staying in a posh hotel very near where Johnny Depp and Bono had villas. Bono had had Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie to visit; she’d read it in a magazine. Imagine if she saw any of them – she could take a photo on her phone. How cool would that be to show off when she went back to school in September? It was such a relief they were going abroad; she wouldn’t feel out of place when the other girls in the class were talking about their trips. Sarah was very worried; she was only going to visit her cousins in Cork. Her mother had had to stop working to take care of her grandmother, who was ill, and they weren’t even going to get to Spain for a week.
‘Hi, darling, are you eating breakfast? What are you having?’ Aimee interrupted her daydream and came and sat beside her at the table.
‘Weetabix.’ Melissa showed her the empty bowl with the damp bits clinging to the side.
‘Darling, I just want to say, it’s all very well keeping fit and losing weight, but don’t lose too much. It’s not good for you, and I need you to be on top form to help me when the baby comes.’ Aimee reached across and squeezed her hand.
Her mother looked tired. She had circles under her eyes, and she was quite pale. It was so strange to have her at home all day, even though she spent most of it working. Melissa and Sarah felt constrained by her presence; usually, they had their music on fairly loud, or played Wii tennis, yelling at each other when they got a point. Aimee always wanted to know where they were going and who they were seeing and, after the heady days of freedom earlier in the holidays, it was like a bucket of cold water dousing them having her mother there 24/7.
‘Are you looking forward to the holiday?’ Aimee asked, raising her face to the sun’s welcome rays.
‘Yeah – it’s a huge surprise. I wasn’t expecting it,’ Melissa said.
‘Me neither. I thought it would be your mid-term in October before we got away. Having the time off before I start my new job is a real bonus.’
‘And it’s great Dad’s coming too,’ Melissa slipped in, watching her mother’s reaction.
‘Wonderful,’ Aimee agreed heartily. Was she a bit too hearty, Melissa worried. ‘It’s going to be lovely to relax as a family. We should make the most of it.’
‘Are you really glad Dad’s coming? I heard you having a row,’ she blurted.
Aimee looked startled and a little embarrassed. ‘Oh, darling, every couple has rows, and we’re no different. Forget about it. Dad and I have,’ she said dismissively, waving her hand as if to brush away an unwelcome topic.
‘Really?’ Melissa persisted.
‘Yes, really.’ Aimee grimaced.
‘Mom, will you be bringing your BlackBerry?’ Melissa fiddled with her spoon.
‘I have to, darling. There’s a lot going on for me just now, setting up this new company, but I’ll only check it every so often. I promise.’
‘Umm,’ Melissa murmured. She’d heard that one before.
‘Honestly,’ her mother assured her. ‘Now, what do you think? I’m getting a new company car—’
‘Oh, can you get a Merc or BMW sportscar?’ Melissa was thrilled.
Aimee made a face. ‘A sportscar is much too girly for the image I’ve to portray, far too frivolous and silly and, besides, what use is it in the appalling weather we’ve had? How often do you get to put the roof down?’
‘Well, a big Merc or BMW then,’ Melissa said, disappointed.
Aimee shook her head. ‘Darling, every Tom, Dick and Harry has a Merc or a BMW nowadays. I was thinking of getting a top-of-the-range Lexus actually.’
‘Boring.’ Melissa made a face.
‘No, darling, a Lexus makes a very subtle statement. It oozes class. It’s not a car for airheads, if you know what I mean. A woman driving a top-class Lexus is at the top of her game and not to be trifled with, and that’s the image I want to portray in my new job.’
‘I love Debbie’s soft-top,’ Melissa said wistfully. ‘Except they can’t afford it any more, and they’re going to get something smaller.’
‘Really?’ said Aimee, not in the slightest bit interested in whether Debbie and her husband could afford their soft-top. ‘Well, darling, that’s tough, but my new job pays very, very well, and we are going on a serious spending spree in Paris, you and me.’ Aimee smiled at her and got up from the table.
‘Deadly.’ Melissa grinned. ‘Hey, Mom – you know the way I’m going to visit the stables with Connie to see Frisky today?’
‘Yes.’
‘Could I get a horse some day?’
‘I’ll talk to Dad about it,’ Aimee said slowly, thinking if they got their daughter a horse it might take her mind off dieting and give her something else to think about. It would also be good to drop it into conversation. My daughter’s crazy about her horse, she’s never at home . . . It would be a fine social investment as well as an interest for Melissa. ‘It might be good for you to have a horse; you’d get plenty of fresh air,’ she added.
‘Oh cool, Mom, cool. Only three girls in the class have their own horses.’ She jumped up and hugged Aimee excitedly.
Aimee hugged her back. ‘You need to be fit and healthy to ride horses, so maybe have some brown bread or toast with your Weetabix every morning,’ she suggested.
‘I am fit and healthy, Mom.’ Melissa’s eyes slid away from her mother’s gaze.
‘Well, that’s good to hear,’ Aimee said. Her phone rang, and it was with the greatest relief that Melissa watched her go to answer it. She just hoped that her mom and dad would get off her back about food. If they didn’t, it would take all the fun out of going on holidays and getting a horse. It would give her something else to worry about, and she didn’t need that.
‘There’s only one Weetabix gone out of the box; I counted them last night.’ Aimee kept her voice low so that Melissa wouldn’t overhear her phone call.
‘And she’s definitely making herself sick. When we come back from France we’ll bring her to the doctor. Might as well let her have a bit of fun first. I’ve been reading the literature Connie emailed over. Scary stuff, but she’s given us names and contact numbers so we can decide what’s the best route to go when we’ve spoken to the doctor,’ Barry said wearily. ‘Do you want to ask your dad for advice? Maybe he could get her seen to quickly?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Aimee retorted vehemently. ‘I don’t want him to know anything about it. He’d think that it was a terrible weakness of character, and I won’t have him looking down his nose at her. It’s bad enough that he looks down his nose at me.’
‘He wouldn’t be like that surely,’ Barry protested.
‘I’m not giving him the chance.’
‘OK then. It was just a thought.’
‘She asked me about getting a horse. She’s going to some stables with Saint Connie to see a foal today.’ Aimee studied her reflection in the dining-room mirror and noted that she could do with a Botox treatment. She wouldn’t be able to have that while she was pregnant. She’d have a forehead like a walnut shell by the time she had the baby, she thought dolefully.
‘Don’t call Connie that,’ Barry said irritably. ‘She’s been very good to Melissa.’
‘Umm . . . Well, anyway, I told Melissa I’d talk to you about it, and I told her that she’d have to be fit and healthy to be riding horses.’
‘Good thinking. I’d buy her a stableful of horses if it would sort her out,’ Barry said morosely.
’I know. Anyway, I have to go, I’ve another call on the line,’ she fibbed. ‘Bye.’
‘Bye, and Aimee . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘Don’t forget to eat something yourself.’
‘I won’t,’ she sighed, before hanging up. Food was the last thing she wanted, but it behoved her to eat for the baby’s sake. It was bad enough having to worry about one sick child without worrying that she was harming the one she was carrying by not taking proper nutrition. Heavy-hearted, she walked slowly back to her desk and tried to immerse herself in the challenge of setting up a new company.
Barry gave a wry smile as he put the phone down. It hadn’t even cost Aimee a second’s thought to entertain the idea of buying and keeping a horse. She hadn’t told him what her new salary was. They weren’t back that close yet. Still, at least they were rowing in the same canoe and putting on some sort of a united front and, for that, he was thankful. Maybe the holiday away would do them good. He needed a holiday for sure.
He picked up his mobile to ring Connie. He’d been rude to her the other night. Hurt and anger had made him lash out; he should apologize. She didn’t have to bring Melissa to that stables this afternoon; she was going out of her way to be kind, and he should acknowledge it. He dialled her number but, to his disappointment, it rang out, and he didn’t leave a message. He’d catch her again later, he decided, as he Googled anorexia and clicked on a website that caught his attention.
Tight black jeans, Manolo slingbacks and a clingy black vest top that showed off her pert boobs and toned arms to perfection today, Marianna decided as she surveyed the contents of her wardrobe. She was just back from Dublin having visited her father, and she was changing to drive over to Greystones with Drew’s gift voucher. She’d found the address of the stables in the phone book, Googled it up and read his most impressive website. Drew had done well for himself since their divorce. He’d built up a thriving business, and the testimonials were top notch.
She’d bought him a hundred-euro voucher for Avoca Handweavers. If he didn’t like the household or clothing departments, he could use it in their garden centre. It gave her a twisted sense of satisfaction to be spending her lying bastard of a husband’s money on Drew. Not that he really deserved it, she thought irately, inserting gold hoops into her ears. Her ex hadn’t even bothered to lift the phone to inquire after her father. That was bad form. Drew was his ex-son-in-law, after all, and, surely, he must, at this stage, realize that, when her father was negotiating her divorce settlement, he was only doing what any good father would do.
Marianna sighed. Her father was going to have to have a triple bypass, so she would have to spend a significant amount of time at home this year. It would be nice to have Drew onside to provide a bit of diversion.
She applied her make-up, including her false lashes, and added extra lipgloss. She studied herself critically in the full-length mirror. No, she really didn’t look a day over thirty-five, and her gym work and lipo had really paid off, she thought with immense satisfaction, wondering how he’d be able to resist her. Humming, she made her way downstairs, took the Merc’s keys off the mahogany hall table and click-clacked down the marble steps of her father’s Edwardian pile, bursting with anticipation.
‘Nice dress,’ Drew murmured, as Connie got out of the car.
‘Thanks.’ She smiled, wishing she could kiss him. She was wearing a fifties-style green and white halterneck floral sundress that showed off her curvy figure and golden tan, and a pair of white espadrilles.
‘Drew, this is Melissa. Melissa, this is Drew.’ She introduced the teenager, who had come around from her side of the car and was standing shyly by the bonnet.
‘Very nice to meet you, Melissa.’ Drew looked at her kindly and shook her hand firmly.
‘Hi,’ she said quietly. ‘Cool stables.’
‘Thanks; it’s a good place to work. Do you want to see Frisky?’
‘Oh, yes please,’ she said eagerly. ‘My mom said she’d talk to my dad about getting me a horse,’ she confided.
‘Well, if I can give you any advice, you know where I am,’ he offered, leading them over to the paddock where Frisky and Swift were standing together nuzzling.
‘Oooohhhh, she’s gorgeous, isn’t she, Connie?’ Melissa cried out with delight as the little foal pranced up to the fence.
‘Want to give her an apple? She loves them, and Swift loves carrots.’ Drew smiled at Connie, his eyes warm and admiring.
‘Sure.’ Melissa took the apple from him, and Frisky whinnied joyously and stuck her head through a gap in the fence and chomped on the apple Melissa held out to her. ‘Ooohhh, Connie, thanks so much for bringing me,’ Melissa said, ecstatic, as she stroked the beautiful foal.
‘How about I get one of my stable girls to introduce you to all the horses and show you around?’ Drew suggested five minutes later after Frisky had taken off for a gallop around the paddock, kicking her heels exuberantly, watched by her proud mother.
‘Is that OK with you, Connie? You’re not in a rush, are you?’ Melissa asked politely.
‘No rush, go and enjoy yourself,’ Connie urged.
‘Triona,’ Drew called, and a young woman in dusty boots and navy jodhpurs came out from one of the stalls and hurried across the yard. ‘Triona, can you show Melissa around and introduce her to the horses?’ Drew smiled at her and plucked a piece of straw out of her hair.
‘Sure, no prob. Come on, Melissa, we’ve some fabulous horses,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘We’ll grab some carrots and apples, and they’ll love you.’ Melissa needed no second invitation and hurried along beside her guide, eager to make the animals’ acquaintance.
‘I might be getting a horse,’ they heard her say.
‘Oh cool – I’d love a horse of my own,’ Triona replied with heartfelt longing.
‘Thanks, Drew, I really appreciate your time, and Triona’s,’ Connie said as they walked over to a bench at the side of the end stall and sat down.
‘Don’t thank me. Just sit here and talk to me and let me feast my eyes on you.’ He grinned at her, their arms and knees touching as they sat snugly beside each other.
Connie laughed. ‘I’m doing a bit of feasting myself, mister. That shade of blue is lovely on you. It brings out the colour of your eyes.’
‘Would you give over, woman,’ Drew chuckled, half mortified, unused to compliments. Their eyes met and they burst out laughing. ‘It’s a lovely afternoon, want to go for a walk on the beach later on, and have a bite to eat – or is Melissa with you for the night?’ he invited.
‘No, I’ll be dropping her to the Dart. I should be back home by seven.’
‘Pick you up at seven thirty?’ He arched a black eyebrow at her.
‘You’re on.’
‘What’s the dress code?’
‘Speedos and a dickie bow,’ she teased, and he laughed.
‘Helen Mirren-style bikini for you then, madam,’ he retorted, and she grinned up at him, loving their banter.
A maroon Merc drove up the wide, tree-lined drive and Drew shaded his eyes against the sun to see who it was.
‘Oh hell!’ he cursed, his face darkening as he recognized the driver.
‘What’s wrong?’ Connie asked, seeing a blonde in tight jeans and impossibly high heels totter over the gravel towards them.
‘It’s Barbie, aka my ex,’ he scowled.
‘Drew, hi.’ Marianna beamed. ‘I hope you don’t mind me coming unannounced.’ She gave Connie a quick once-over. ‘I just wanted to thank you so much for driving me up to see my dad – although I thought you might have phoned to see how he was,’ she pouted.
‘Skipped my mind, Marianna, how is he?’ Drew said coldly.
‘He has to have a triple bypass, the poor darling. I guess I’m going to be here quite a lot this year.’ She gave him a sultry smile. It wasn’t returned. ‘I’m sorry – Drew’s forgotten his manners.’ Marianna turned to Connie. ‘I’m Marianna Delahunt, his ex-wife?’ She held out a delicate, manicured hand and gave Connie a limp handshake.
‘This is Connie Adams, a very dear friend of mine,’ Drew said curtly, dropping an arm around Connie’s shoulder and drawing her close. Connie nestled in against him, and Marianna’s eyes narrowed.
‘I don’t think I’ve heard of you,’ she said snootily. ‘Our daughters keep me up to date on all the news from home.’
‘Really?’ Connie said politely. ‘I know all about you.’
Drew spluttered, and tried hard to keep his face straight.
‘Could we have a few words in private, Drew?’ Marianna said icily.
Connie made to move away, but Drew held her hand tight.
‘Fire ahead, Marianna. My time with Connie is precious, and I don’t like to waste it.’ He eyeballed his ex-wife, hostility crackling in the air between them.
‘Oh! Oh! Well, I just wanted to give you a small gift – you know, to thank you for bringing me to Dublin.’ She took an envelope from her Gucci bag.
‘Not necessary, but thank you,’ he said tersely, slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans without looking at it.
‘Lovely place you’ve got here. The girls are always raving about the house,’ Marianna said chattily, trying to recover her poise.
‘It’s not bad, and I’m glad they like it and feel at home here, because it is their home, obviously,’ said Drew pointedly. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’ve some important business to talk to Connie about. Thanks for the gift.’ He put his arm around Connie’s waist.
‘Oh!’ Marianna was rattled. ‘I wonder could I use your loo?’ she rallied.
‘No problem,’ Drew said. ‘Avril!’ He called another stablehand, who was grooming a chestnut gelding. ‘Would you bring this er . . . lady . . . over to the loo there, thanks. Just follow Avril, and she’ll show you where to go. Mind your shoes,’ he added, ‘there’s a lot of muck around, it’s been a wet summer.’ His eyes glinted with amusement, and he glanced at Connie, who was trying hard to conceal her mirth.
‘Forget it, I’ll hang on,’ Marianna said, attempting to hide her fury.
‘Suit yourself.’ Drew shrugged.
Trying to keep her dignity, and her balance, Marianna teetered across to the car. She pulled her oversized sunshades down over her eyes, reminding Connie of a bug-eyed cartoon character. She started the engine, spun the wheel and scorched down the drive.
‘You’re awful,’ Connie chided.
‘Excuse me . . . “I know all about you”?’ Drew mimicked. ’That was priceless.’
‘How could you marry someone like that?’ She looked up at him, perplexed.
‘Shy, horny young men do harebrained things,’ he said ruefully.
‘And what do shy, horny older men do?’ She tucked her arm into his.
‘Come in here, and I’ll show you,’ Drew said, leading her into Swift’s stall and kissing her passionately.
‘Oh God, Sullivan, you’re a great kisser,’ Connie sighed a while later as she nuzzled in against him.
‘You’re pretty hot yourself, Adams.’ He smiled down at her, holding her tight.
‘Isn’t it amazing? I just feel so comfortable with you. I feel as though I’ve known you for ever. It’s weird.’
‘Not weird,’ he said firmly. ‘It’s right. Everything feels just right. We’re right, the time is right—’
‘Oh, stop talking and kiss me again,’ she urged, drawing his head down to hers.
‘You’re incorrigible and a—’
He never got to finish, as Connie raised her mouth to his and silenced him with a kiss that just went on and on.
How dare they? How dare they laugh at her? Tears of rage spurted from Marianna’s eyes as she drove out of Drew’s stables. He was a bastard, a complete and utter bastard. Who did he think he was? He was only a Wicklow clodhopper. How dare he treat her with such disrespect and contempt? And in front of that Connie woman, with her real tan and freckly nose, and hair that had never seen peroxide. She looked the earthy sort, like Meryl Streep in The Bridges of Madison County, or Jessica Lange and Susan Sarandon in their later years. Voluptuous and sexy – no wonder Drew couldn’t take his eyes off her; he was probably getting more action in a night than Marianna had had in years. It just wasn’t fair. And they looked so comfortable together, so in tune and companionable. He’d never been like that with her. ‘Comfortable’ was not an adjective she would ever have used to describe her relationship with Drew. Once, she would have classified ‘comfortable’ as boring. But there was nothing boring about Drew and that woman. They were into each other in every way, it was unmistakable, and she envied them with every fibre of her being.
Marianna rooted impatiently for a tissue. She’d been so sure he wouldn’t be able to resist her. She hadn’t let herself go. She was still the same size she’d been when she’d married him. She was toned and supple, not like that woman he was draped all over. She was a woman in her prime, Marianna assured herself, as she blew her nose and wiped her eyes.
Well, no one treated her the way her ex-husband just had, and that Connie one would have the smirk wiped off her face, because Marianna Sullivan Delahunt didn’t give up that easily, and that was something Ms Earth Mother was going to discover over the next few months, Marianna vowed, as she blew her bobbed nose once more and headed for home.
Barry glanced at his watch. Ten to seven. He was restless and edgy. Aimee had picked up Melissa off the Dart and they’d gone to the pictures in Dundrum, and he was at a loose end. Melissa had been as high as a kite when she’d phoned him on the train back to town. She’d raved about the stables and the horses and the foal, and begged him to let her get a horse. It was so good to hear the excitement in her voice, and he felt hugely grateful to Connie. He went into the bedroom and took the small painting of Greystones he’d bought for her from the top section of his wardrobe where it lay bubble-wrapped under some sweaters. Picking up his car keys, he hurried out of the apartment and took the lift to the basement. The worst of the rush-hour traffic would be over; it wouldn’t take him long to get to her place.
He stopped at a florist on the way and bought two dozen yellow roses. He needed to apologize to his ex-wife, and nothing said sorry better than roses. His heart lifted as he turned off the N11 on to the slip road. He needed to get back on track with Connie, needed her reassurance and companionship on this long, bumpy road ahead of him. He drove fast, looking forward to a good chat once his apologies were over.
Barry frowned when he saw a dusty black jeep parked outside her house. Who owned that, he wondered, pulling in behind it. He was just about to get out of the car when the front door opened and a tall, fit, grey-haired man came out, followed by Connie. They were holding hands, and she was laughing up at him, looking more radiant than he had ever seen her. She was wearing a pale-lilac sleeveless summer dress with a bodice top and a skirt that fell in soft folds down to her ankles. She had a pink pashmina draped casually around her shoulders, which emphasized her golden tan. She looked fabulous. His heart clenched in pain as he saw her reach up and stroke the man’s tanned cheek.
Barry almost couldn’t breathe. He’d lost her. After all these years, he knew she was no longer his safety net. He was stunned. He wanted to cry. She saw him and looked surprised. Barry composed himself, with difficulty, and got out of the car.
‘Hi,’ he said, handing her the roses. ‘I just wanted to thank you for all you’re doing for Melissa . . . um . . . sorry about the other day.’
‘That’s OK, Barry,’ Connie said easily. ‘There was no need for the roses.’ She took them and looked up at the man. ‘Drew, this is Barry, my ex-husband, Melissa’s dad. Barry, this is Drew, a very dear friend of mine.’
‘Hello.’ The man greeted him and held out his hand politely. Barry extended his own, and Drew shook his hand in a strong, and very firm, grip.
‘Nice to meet you. I should have called, I suppose.’ Barry glanced at Connie. ‘You look as if you’re on the way out.’
‘We can do it another time, Connie,’ Drew said.
‘No, Drew, we’ve made our plans, Barry won’t mind. Sure you won’t?’ she said firmly.
‘Go right ahead, just wanted to say thanks.’ Barry spread his hands, in a casual gesture. He really wanted to kick the man in the goolies and tell him to stay the hell away from Connie.
‘Have as good a holiday as you can, Barry. We’ll talk when you get back,’ Connie said kindly, as she slipped her hand into her companion’s.
‘Will do. Cheers,’ he said flatly, and walked back to the car.
‘I’ll put these in the house, Drew, won’t be a sec,’ Connie said, taking her keys out of her bag.
‘No rush,’ said Drew, and leaned nonchalantly against the pillar and gave Barry a salute as he drove past the jeep and reversed in Connie’s drive.
‘Arrogant bastard,’ muttered Barry as he geared up and sped down the road. He could at least have taken his jeep to a carwash if he was going on a date. The painting lay on the front seat, unopened, a taunting reminder of his loss. His heart was as heavy as lead. He felt like crying. He was on his own now, with a pregnant wife who wanted a divorce and a daughter who was starving herself to death, and the woman he’d always thought he could depend on, and run to, was turning her back on him. Well, he wouldn’t let that happen, he decided. He and Connie had a bond that no one could sever.
Maybe this was only a fling and the bastard would break her heart, and she’d come running to him for comfort. He’d be there for her with open arms. Then, she’d appreciate him. Barry glowered as he caught sight of the black jeep in his rear-view mirror, closing the gap between them.
‘He still holds a torch for you,’ Drew remarked as they followed Barry’s Merc to the end of the road.
‘Well, I don’t hold one for him.’ Connie shrugged. ‘And it’s only in the last year or so that he’s wanted to get close again. And the reason for that is that life with Aimee’s become difficult, and he can’t hack it. He was always the same when things got tough. Bryan, my son-in-law, is exactly the same, and I can’t see him staying the course with Debbie. And that’s being realistic. She married the same type of man I did, and it’s not going to be easy for her.’
‘You have to let them get on with it,’ Drew cautioned.
‘I know.’
‘And you can’t take on the burdens of the world. You have your own life to live.’
‘I know that too.’ Connie smiled at him, as Barry’s car turned left and she and Drew turned right to get to the beach. She glanced in the side mirror and saw the other car disappear around a bend. The man at her side was a far different kettle of fish to her ex-husband. He took what life threw at him and got on with it.
‘What are you looking so serious about?’ He looked over at her.
‘Nothing, nothing at all,’ she said lightly. ‘I’m looking forward to our walk.’
‘Me too,’ Drew said. ‘Your ex is gone, and I don’t expect to see mine tripping along in her high heels on the beach. We’re safe.’ He grinned.
‘Perfect,’ Connie declared. ‘Absolutely perfect.’