Across the Lagoon by Roumelia Lane

living. She couldn't think now why she had been seized by worry last night. This was a job in a million. So long as they were here, all that she and Stephanie had to do was enjoy themselves. What could be simpler, or more agreeable, than that? In high spirits she went off to dress.
    As the morning promised to be hot she donned her vivid yellow slacks and a brief white sun top. Stephanie followed her into the bathroom to shower and dress, choosing violent pink trousers and a brilliantly flowered sun top.
    They took their time adding the finishing touches. There was no watching the clock this morning, no precise time by which they must present themselves downstairs. Carol found it rather fun, being able to please herself.
    After preening on and off before their mirrors, and experimenting with different types of footwear, they finally decided that they were ready, and locking the door of the apartment behind them took the lift downstairs.
    The outdoors appeared even more scintillating from ground level. The black and white umbrellas looked as fresh as new paint against the blue of the sky. The leaves of the slender chestnut trees lining the dining terrace shimmered in the sparkling air. Both girls agreed that it would be pleasant to breakfast outside.
    At a table overlooking the gardens they were served with coffee and rolls and lemon-flower jam. The sun was warm on their shoulders as they attacked the crisp golden twists of bread with the specially shaped knives. Stephanie seemed in a cheerful frame of mind. Apparently she had got over her disappointment of last night when she had unsuccessfully begged her uncle to stay.
    During the meal Carol decided that the best way to keep up this happy state of affairs was simply to fall in with the younger girl's wishes as far as it was possible to do so.
    After breakfast they explored the gardens and the hotel. They found the tennis courts and toured the pool and flicked a ball back and forth in the table tennis rooms. From the foyer posters they discovered that there was a weekly candlelight gala dinner, and dancing two evenings a week in the space adjoining the main lounge.
    In the afternoon Stephanie chose to go to the beach. They put on their gayest bathing outfits, packed their beach bags and scuffed along the sun-dappled paths towards that rising murmur of sound.
    The sea had settled down a lot since the morning. Ruffled only at the edge now, the sun caught the crystal sparkle of its gently lapping waves. The hotel section of the beach was fairly well populated. Stephanie chose a couple of sun beds on a vacant patch of sand. They dumped their things, discarded their sandals and prepared to enjoy the sun.
    Part of the time they spent splashing and swimming in the water, the rest they sat or stretched out and watched the life around them. For Carol it could have been a perfect afternoon but for one thing.
    On this their first day together, she noticed with a mild sense of shock that Stephanie seemed to have quite an eye for the boys. Carol could well remember her own giggly first stirrings as a fifteen-year-old, but Stephanie's approach was almost frighteningly grown up. With her neat little figure, already turning gold, her cascading dark hair and liquid brown eyes, she was quite lovely in a girlish way. And she made the most of it.
    Her glances at the bronze-skinned youths and young men who happened to be near at the time had open invitation in them. Her laughter, when her small white teeth showed to perfection, was always aimed at them.
    Fortunately the clientele at the Albany was made up mostly of cultured Italian families. The young men therefore were very mindful of their position in life and seemed in no way inclined to look further than their own aristocratic group.
    Thankful for this, Carol turned a blind eye to Stephanie's flirtatious mood. Luckily she could afford to be more amused by it than concerned.
    Towards seven o'clock they made their way back to the hotel. They were