‘Audrey or Katharine?’ said Jennifer, glad to have a reassuring presence by her side.
‘Usually I’m a Katharine kinda girl, but tonight looks like Sabrina
.’
‘I love that movie,’ said Jennifer, smiling as she remembered the classic Billy Wilder film about two brothers competing for the love of their chauffeur’s beautiful daughter.
‘And how’s your own little love triangle getting on?’ said Jeanne, nudging her friend gently with her elbow.
‘What love triangle?’ asked Jennifer, trying not to blush.
‘Oh come on,’ Jeanne said, holding her hands up in the air. ‘You’ve still not told me if anything happened between you and Jim Johnson at the beach the other night.’
‘Nothing happened.’
‘He was moon-eyed after you all day and I’d usually just write that off as another Jennifer Wyatt admirer, but you like him too, admit it.’
Jennifer looked away, not wanting to talk about it. It had been ten days since their trip to Tybee Island, and she had not seen or spoken to Jim since. Part of her was glad that he was out of sight, if not out of mind.
Her mother had been a changed woman since their conversation. She had taken Jennifer out for lunch, and tennis, and whilst they had been shopping in downtown Savannah the day before, she had treated her to a beautiful gold hummingbird necklace, which she had presented to her with the warmest of embraces.
But still, Jennifer had spent the past week and a half feeling sad and empty. It just didn’t make sense that Jim wasn’t around any more. He hadn’t called her or popped round, even when her mother had left for a trip downtown or to the country club. It was almost as if he wasn’t there, as if she had dreamed him. The one time she had seen the red pickup truck drive past the entrance to Casa D’Or, her heart had stopped as the driver had waved, only for her to realise that it was Bryn Johnson and not his son.
Getting ready for the party that evening, she had found herself staring out of her bedroom window towards the Lake House, wondering whether he would turn up to say goodbye.
She wasn’t sure what part of Jim’s vanishing trick had hurt the most: that the frisson of attraction between them outside Casa D’Or had been a lie, some meaningless consequence of the amount they’d had to drink, or the fact that he was about to slip out of her life for ever and she wouldn’t get to see him again.
She felt tears come to her eyes at the thought of it.
‘Hey, what’s the matter?’ said Jeanne, noticing that her friend was upset.
‘Nothing,’ she said quickly.
Jeanne peered at her over the rim of her glasses with a look that said she was not going to take no for an answer.
‘Look, we almost kissed. But we haven’t seen each other since and he’s going home tomorrow.’
‘Why haven’t you seen him?’
‘He hasn’t got in touch. But it’s for the best. I have Connor; Jim’s going back to London. It was a friendship that got complicated. That’s all.’
‘There’s nothing that’s all about the way he looks at you, Jen. Or the way you glow when you’re with him.’
‘That’ll just be the sunburn,’ she said, not wanting to be persuaded.
‘Is he here?’
‘No. And that speaks volumes, doesn’t it?’
‘There you are, darling,’ said David Wyatt, touching her on the shoulder. ‘I’ve apparently paid for the best jazz band in Savannah, and my own daughter hasn’t even given me the honour of a dance.’
‘Of course,’ smiled Jennifer, allowing her father to whisk her off in the yellow cloud of chiffon of her dress.
She rested her hand on his shoulder and allowed him to twirl her round, feeling joyful and safe.
‘Are you enjoying yourself?’
‘It’s a wonderful party.’