Page 61 of Hook, Line and Single

‘Confession time,’ Cameron says, as if picking up on my train of thought. ‘I watched you walking into the sea, so there won’t be any surprises if you want to turn over and float.’

‘You know what you are? A dirty voyeur,’ I tell him as I pluck up the courage and roll. I do feel very exposed, but it’s a lot more comfortable.

‘OK, I’ll take that on one condition.’

‘Which is?’

‘You tell me, hand on heart, that you never so much as glanced at me.’

‘I was anxious. I needed to know where you were.’

He laughs. ‘Nice try.’

As we float together, my self-consciousness begins to ebb away and I focus on enjoying the water. It really is the perfect temperature, and crystal clear. After a while, Claudine gets up from her chair and wanders into the sea.

‘Ça va?’ she asks as she joins us.

‘Ça va bien. Merci, Claudine,’ I reply, stretching my schoolgirl French to its limits. ‘This is Cameron, my friend. Cameron, Claudine.’

‘Enchanté.’ She nods at Cameron. ‘Are you staying long in Cannes?’

‘Just one night,’ Cameron tells her. ‘We’re actually on a cruise and missed the ship.’

‘Ah.Quelle domage.Tomorrow night we will be having a drinks party and barbecue on the beach. I was going to invite you. My friend Philippe is a butcher, and he cooks the meats perfectly.’

A mental image of Philippe barbequing sausages naked flits into my mind. It’s not a nice picture and I push it out again as fast as I can.

‘Forgive me,’ Cameron asks. ‘But isn’t barbequing without clothes a little… dangerous?’

Claudine laughs. ‘He wears an apron. What did you think? Anyway, we will miss you. Maybe you will come back one day?’

Cameron smiles. ‘Maybe.’

After around half an hour of floating and swimming, I’ve had enough so I start to summon the courage for the walk from the shore to Claudine’s umbrella and the safety of my clothes.

‘I’m going in,’ I tell Cameron.

‘Good idea. I think I’m starting to burn a bit, so I’ll come too.’

If walking into the sea with Claudine took courage, walking out of it with Cameron is in a different league. It’s not just that he’s a man, it’s that I can’t help surreptitiously checking him out, and it follows that he must be doing the same to me. I can feel myself blushing again. When we reach Claudine and Philippe, I quickly wrap myself in the beach towel, grateful for the covering. Cameron appears to have no such qualms and happily perches himself on a rock next to Philippe. Claudine reaches into her cool box and pulls out four bottles of beer, which she opens and passes round.

‘You need to take the towel off,’ she whispers with a smile as she hands me the bottle. ‘You will dry better in the breeze, and Philippe will tell you off again if you don’t. He’s very strict about the rules.’

I peel the towel off reluctantly, earning myself a nod of approval from Philippe. I’m relieved to note that his glance is purely cursory before he turns back to continue talking to Cameron. To begin with, I feel acutely self-conscious, but after a few minutes I can feel myself relaxing. Claudine proves to be excellent company, chatting away happily about everything and nothing. As the sun starts to dip in the sky and the heat goes out of the day, we help Claudine and Philippe pack up, before clambering back into our clothes and heading back through the tunnel to the main road. Claudine is wearing a brightly patterned kaftan, and I’m struggling to reconcile clothed Philippe, looking smart in his dark blue shirt and light trousers, with the naked man who loomed over me earlier.

‘Claudine?’ I ask. ‘I need to buy a change of clothes and some underwear, not too expensive. Where is a good place to go?’

‘You need thehypermarché,’ she tells me firmly. ‘They have everything there. I will take you.’

‘You don’t need to do that. Just give us the address and we’ll get a taxi.’

She laughs. ‘How many taxis can you see around here? You will wait a long time, I think. It is no trouble. I will take you to get what you need and drop you afterwards at your hotel.’

Sensing that further resistance is futile, we follow her meekly to her car, an ancient and battle-scarred Renault. We say our goodbyes to Philippe before she whisks us at breakneck speed across town to an enormous supermarket, where Cameron and I manage to secure everything we need for a surprisingly reasonable price.

‘I definitely need a shower now,’ I tell Cameron as we make our way up to our room after saying goodbye to Claudine and checking in. The hotel is rather smarter than I’d realised, and I did detect a few curious glances from other, better dressed customers as we made our way across the lobby to the lifts.

‘I know what you mean,’ he agrees. ‘I feel distinctly salt-encrusted, and I think I might have a touch of sunburn in, umm, unusual places.’

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