Clementine's arm ached, so she shifted Ruby's body, trying to get her into a more comfortable position. Judging by how noisily she was sucking her thumb, she was about to fall asleep, but the movement of her arm was enough to stir Ruby, and she suddenly jerked her head.
'Holly,' she said indistinctly, speaking around her thumb.
'Over there.' Clementine pointed at Oliver and Holly, who were still possum hunting.
Ruby slid off Clementine's lap. 'Bye,' she said with a wave of her whisk, and toddled over to them.
'That little pink coat is adorable on her,' said Tiffany as they both watched Oliver bend down to pick up Ruby.
'She's probably going to complain she's too hot in a minute,' said Clementine. 'It weighs a tonne.'
Clementine looked back at Tiffany, who was scratching something on the side of her neck but somehow making even that look erotic. What was it like to have a body like that? Did it automatically make you more sexually adventurous, because you just looked in the mirror and felt hot? So you were therefore destined to be a stripper? Or were there librarians with bodies like that? Of course, there were librarians exactly like that in porn movies.
She was so intrigued, so titillated by this woman. She had another mouthful of wine and leaned across the table. 'Can I ask you a question?' she said.
'Sure,' said Tiffany.
'Obviously a lot of men who watched you - dance - would have been married, right?'
'We didn't get them to do surveys at the door,' said Tiffany. 'But yes, probably.'
'Do you think they were betraying their middle-aged wives at home with the children by, you know, sitting there lusting over a gorgeous nineteen-year-old? Isn't it effectively infidelity?'
'Their middle-aged wives were probably at home reading Fifty Shades of Grey,' said Tiffany. 'Or lusting after the lead in a chick flick.'
'But that's fiction,' said Clementine.
'I was fiction,' said Tiffany.
'Right,' said Clementine uncertainly. No, you weren't. 'But do you - oh!' Hundreds of tiny lights suddenly flickered to life, transforming the backyard into a twinkling, magical fairyland. It was like the setting for a stage play.
'That's what happens when you're married to a crazy electrician. They're pre-set to go on at half past five at this time of year,' explained Tiffany. 'We could probably make it even earlier. Hey, look at your kids.'
Holly and Ruby had lost their minds. They ran in
delirious circles around the backyard, laughing and pointing, their bright little faces transfixed, their hands reaching out, clasping and unclasping, as if to catch the lights like bubbles. Barney ran with them, tail wagging, yapping delightedly. Oliver looked on, his hands shoved in his pockets, smiling fiercely at them.
Vid and Sam reappeared in the cabana, laden with trays of food. Tiffany and Clementine both stood to help them.
'And then there was light,' said Sam. 'We should get Vid to come over and do something with our sad old backyard. The girls look like they've never seen electricity before.'
Oliver came over to the table. 'So is this the dish you mentioned earlier, Vid?' he said, in his awkward, earnest way. 'What did you say it was called?'
'Cremeschnitte,' said Vid. 'You wait. You just wait.'
'Have you got plates?' Tiffany asked him.
'Erika is bringing out your good blue plates,' said Vid. 'She's just behind us. And if the little girls don't like my dessert we have ice-creams in the freezer, although, of course, they will like it.'
'Tiffany, did I hear you say there was a bathroom through there?' asked Oliver, pointing at the back of the cabana.
'Yes, that's it,' said Tiffany. Oliver hurried off. It was just the four of them standing around the end of the table.
'Also I have chosen music to go with my dessert,' said Vid. He picked up his phone again. 'No more of this head-banging stuff my wife likes. Clementine, have you heard of someone called Yo-Yo Ma?' He enunciated the name clearly. 'He's pretty good, I think.'
Clementine smiled at him. He was too adorable. 'Yes, Vid. I've heard of Yo-Yo Ma. He is pretty good.'
'Okay, well this is him, right? And let me tell you, this is the sound of the taste of my cremeschnitte.'