Someone Special Read Online Free PDF Page B

pitied girls who were married to other, ordinary men.
    Then the second fortnight came, just as hot, just as sunny, just as pine-scented and beautiful. But during the second fortnight the serpent entered Eden: a serpent with long red hair, a husky voice, and a very unfashionable figure, all curves, Constance thought scornfully. She, with her small breasts and slender hips, could wear the modern fashions – short skirts, dropped waists, fringes and beads – and look just right. In her sports slacks and shirt she looked like an adorable boy – JJ remarked on it whilst clutching the one part of her where such a resemblance was most lacking.
    Yet he liked the redheaded Cynthia. Some sixth sense told Constance that JJ liked the other woman even before she had proof. Another sixth sense, the one which had helped her to get JJ to propose, told her to pretend like fun that she didn’t know, that it wasn’t happening. Because how could it be? They were on their honeymoon, JJ couldn’t keep his hands off her, and Cynthia was with a man called Malcolm Short, a large, coarse character who wore a gold necklace under his shirt and gold bracelets on each wrist. He smoked a big cigar and wore the loudest suits ever to appear on the Riviera; even his swimsuit was loud, striped in navy and puce. So wasit possible that in this case, at least, her sixth sense was wrong?
    It was during the second fortnight that a crowd of people they knew went out to dinner together, to the casino, and afterwards the men went to the tables and the women clustered in groups on the terrace, drinking and talking. Constance was with Betty, who came from Hampshire, and a French girl, Lise. The other two were brunettes and Constance was congratulating herself on finding two friends she genuinely liked who could not possibly compete in the ‘who’s the blondest?’ contest she always held in her head when she met another fair girl, when she happened to notice that Cynthia, who had been talking to Rosie and Maud only seconds earlier, had disappeared.
    ‘Where’s Cynthia?’
    She hadn’t asked the question, that was Betty’s chirruping little voice.
    ‘Gone back to the tables,’ someone said. ‘She’s a real gambler, not like the fellows. They play at it; with Cynthia, it’s for real.’
    ‘Is that how she got Malcolm?’ someone else asked. ‘What a prize!’
    ‘He’s filthy rich,’ Rosie volunteered when the burst of laughter had died down. ‘Owns half of Birmingham.’
    ‘So?’
    That was Constance’s one contribution: ‘So?’ Little enough, but perhaps it spoke volumes. At any rate, Rosie shot her a quick, rather apprehensive glance.
    ‘Cynthia doesn’t have a bean, old dear,’ she explained. ‘She needs someone who’ll let her gamble with his money. Malcolm’s ideal; she won’t want anything else from him and all he gets from her is the status of having a beautiful woman in tow.’
    ‘Is she beautiful, though?’ someone asked cattily. ‘She’s certainly got heaps of sex appeal, and the most enormous breasts, but as for beauty …’
    ‘She has a certain appeal,’ another girl drawled. ‘Ah, there’s a waiter; anyone want another little drinkie?’
    The waiter came on to the terrace and the girls crowded round him and his tray. Someone began to dispense champagne cocktails and Constance turned and left the terrace, sliding unobtrusively back into the building, though she had no idea what she intended to do. She thought about going over to the tables, checking the whereabouts of JJ … she would not lower herself to checking on Cynthia … and suggesting that they go home, have an early night. After all, they were on their honeymoon.
    She went into the casino. JJ wasn’t at any of the tables, but perhaps he’d gone outside for a smoke. Smoking was not encouraged around the tables. She already knew he was not on the terrace.
    She finally ran him to earth on the beach. It was quite a small beach. Despite the darkness she could