She swam slowly to the steps. It was a fine warm day, with just the slightest of cool breezes. The professor, looking fit and muscular in his faded shorts and chef’s cap, was over by the barbecue, turning sausages and teasing Carrots. “I’ve cooked seventy sausages, Bettina. There are only six left! Are you sure you haven’t eaten sixty-four sausages?” Carrots giggled, showing the gaps in her teeth, and held out her plate for another sausage. Mrs. Barry stretched out on the banana lounge, wearing large sunglasses, a broad-brimmed hat, pink knee-length shorts, a loose striped top, and an air of smug complacency. She was the one guest who spoiled Cindy’s enjoyment. “Why is she coming?” Cindy had asked as her car pulled up. Prunella and Constance had arrived hours earlier to help with the preparations, but Cindy hoped that Mrs. Barry would have the decency to stay away.
