In the late afternoon, the sun came out and dried the darkened patio tiles and the flower beds and bougainvillea of the Rocks, and brought out the guests who had been weather-bound in their rooms, tired of their books, scouring old newspapers for anything left unread, staving off or finally succumbing to obligatory sex with their spouses or the people they were putatively fucking. Cassian and Dominick had spent the afternoon playing backgammon to the accompaniment of desultory drips from the overhanging tiled roof at the corner table beside the bar. They played on into the twilight as guests, still in the beachwear they’d worn all day despite the weather, drifted out to the bar. A chubby blond woman, Susie Breedham, heaved herself onto a barstool beside them. “Christ, have you two been at it all day?” “We have, yes,” said Cassian. “Darling Susie,” said Dominick, “what have you been up to, sweetheart?”
