The St Tropez Lonely Hearts Club by Joan Collins

Author:Joan Collins [Collins, Joan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781938402548
Publisher: Renaissance Literary & Talent in collaboration with the Proprietor
Published: 2015-11-06T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The following day, Lara Meyer limped into a beauty salon on the Place des Lices for a facial and a full ‘Brazilian’ bikini wax. Lying on the bed, her face covered in a mask of thick clay and cucumber slices on her eyes, she heard the attendant Blandine, who did the waxing, enter the room.

‘Gently, Blandine, gently; you know I’m delicate down there,’ she said, opening her legs as the therapist pulled down the towel on her waist.

‘Oui,’ replied a deep voice, ‘I know.’

Lara screamed as a pan of boiling wax was poured on to her delicate female anatomy. Shrieking to raise the roof, she struggled to pull off her eye mask. There was no one in the cubicle. The staff came running, but no one recalled having seen any men other than those who worked there.

The police were called and some of them were unable to contain their amusement at what had happened to Lara, but there were simply no clues. Even the fingerprints on the waxing bowl only matched those of the female workers.

Unable to walk for several days, Lara suffered horribly. She lay in bed nursing a scalded vulva and a hurt ankle from the helicopter crash, spending her days watching DVDs of Desperate Housewives and drinking straight vodka until she fell into a stupor. She tried to make Fabrizio stay in to watch TV with her, but after some desultory attempts at cooking and tidying up, he became so restless that she dismissed him as totally useless and brought in a woman from the village to cook and be her slave.

After escaping from the third day of Lara’s cranky behaviour, Fabrizio and Maximus lunched at a quiet corner table at Club 55, still the most popular beach restaurant in Saint-Tropez.

‘It’s not working with her. She won’t set a date to get married any sooner. She even says she doesn’t want to now – in fact she says she hates me.’ Fabrizio was becoming seriously worried about his future.

‘She hates everyone, don’t worry.’ Maximus swallowed the last of his oysters and signalled to the waiter to refill his wine glass. ‘So would you if you had a wounded pussy,’ he grinned.

‘I’m going to be thirty in six months, I think I’m losing my hair, and I’m becoming sick and tired of her. Apart from everything else, she’s an absolute fucking bore.’

‘Well, maybe you’re a boring fuck,’ hooted Maximus as Fabrizio shot him a look.

‘That I’m not,’ huffed Fabrizio.

‘Too bad,’ Max continued. ‘That’s the deal, sport.’

‘I want to end this ridiculous relationship with Lara. I’ve decided that – whether you like it or not, Max – Carlotta’s the one for me. Every time I see her, I feel a connection,’ Fabrizio said firmly, eyeing up a smiling young beauty at the next table. He continued his sentence, albeit slightly more distracted. ‘Not only is she beautiful and nice, but she’s also goddamn rich.’

He smiled back at the young beauty. Well, maybe . . . why not? His afternoon was free and he’d been celibate now for four days – a record for him.

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