Sunlounger 1: The Ultimate Beach Read by Belinda Jones & Julia Williams & Talli Roland & Kate Harrison & Lucy Robinson & Kirsty Greenwood & Abby Clements & Victoria Fox & Anna-Lou Weatherley & Miranda Dickinson & Pernille Hughes & Rosie Blake & Kiri Mills & Molly Hopkins

Author:Belinda Jones & Julia Williams & Talli Roland & Kate Harrison & Lucy Robinson & Kirsty Greenwood & Abby Clements & Victoria Fox & Anna-Lou Weatherley & Miranda Dickinson & Pernille Hughes & Rosie Blake & Kiri Mills & Molly Hopkins [Jones, Belinda & Williams, Julia & Roland, Talli & Harrison, Kate & Robinson, Lucy & Greenwood, Kirsty & Clements, Abby & Fox, Victoria & Weatherley, Anna-Lou & Dickinson, Miranda & Hughes, Pernille & Blake, Rosie & Mills, Kiri & Hopkins, Molly]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Humorous, Holidays, General Humor, Genre Fiction, Humor & Satire, Literature & Fiction
Amazon: B00DP3R99Y
Publisher: Notting Hill Press
Published: 2013-06-27T04:00:00+00:00

An hour and another bottle of Dom Perignon later, Mathieu persuades me to remove my bikini top.

‘Vois, c’est normal, ici.’ He nods towards the glossy babes on the bows, who are looking more pissed off by the second. Giggling slightly and thinking ‘sod it, when in Rome…’ I take another gulp of champagne and untie the pink strings.

Mathieu nods approvingly. ‘C’est bon.’

As he doesn’t seem to be paying my boobs the slightest bit of attention, I relax and turn my face up to the sun. It must be around six by now, but it’s still swelteringly hot.

Father and son didn’t seem to mind (notice?) when Poppy and I swapped places on our return from the loo, and Pops is keeping Pascal well entertained, judging from the guffaws of laughter and peals of giggles emanating from that corner of the stern. We have established that Pascal, who grew up in the slums of Marseille, made a fortune in ‘lingerie pour le sexe’ (crotchless knickers?) and now likes to divide his time between Paris in the spring and autumn, St Tropez in summer and St Barts in winter. Well you would, wouldn’t you?

Determined to give his only son all the privileges he never had, he sent Mathieu to Le Rosey in Switzerland, La Sorbonne and Harvard. And how has Mat repaid him? By becoming – well, what, exactly? An international playboy? He’s adept at evading questions about himself.

Whatever it is his son does, Pascal doesn’t seem to mind much, as he occasionally lifts his glass to us, toasting life, summer, women and – always, most importantly – family.

‘So tell me about your mother,’ I say to Mat.

‘Ah, maman.’ He smiles wistfully. ‘She is a great beauty. But she doesn’t understand the appetites of men like Pascal and myself.’

This strikes me as rather an odd way to describe the family dynamic, but I am so mesmerised by the way Mat’s full red lips move as he speaks, the way his long black lashes brush his tanned cheekbones when he blinks, that I just nod sagely.

‘Does she live with you?’

‘Sometimes. It is important for my parents to be seen together pour les fonctions, you see?’

I nod sagely again, as though gala dinners and charity balls loom large on my social calendar.

‘Now she is – je pense – at our villa in Capri, with Jean-Marie.’

‘Jean-Marie?’

‘One of ‘er lovers.’

Mat laughs at the look of shock I fail to disguise. ‘Oh Bella, Bella, sweet naiveté,’ he says, gazing into my eyes. He takes my face in both his hands and kisses me, ever so gently, with those beautiful lips.

Maybe it’s the booze, maybe it’s the sun, maybe I’m just a complete tart, but I find myself closing my eyes, winding my arms around his neck and kissing him back, forgetting I’m topless until my boobs brush his chest, by which time it’s too late.

I’ve no idea how long we sit there, just snogging and snogging and snogging, in a way I haven’t since I was teenager (and