Our lives alibis

Chapter33:Kilimanjaro (ERA)

POV Scorpius

July 7th. 14h. Nice airport.

As soon as I set foot on the tarmac, the heat surrounds me and takes me to the throat. I'm not used to this kind of temperature, and my light suit becomes as heavy as a fur coat. I recognize at first glance the other British tourists, pale like me. Southerners are talkative and tanned.

She is waiting for me in the terminal, smiling, warm. She lays four kisses on my cheeks, authority, and I find with pleasure his singing accent:

- So, Scorpius? Ready to seduce the jet set Saint-Tropez?

- What? Which jet set? Oh no! ... I warned you, Raffaella. If it's like that, I'm leaving.

- No, honey. I'm joking. You only have a few appearances to make, and then people are very nice here, you know. Less cynical than our friends in London. If you want, we can make a trip to my country, one day ... Come, the car rental counter is here.

- Go to Italy ? Yes why not...

- You are alone ?

- Yes ... I never said I would come with someone.

"But he-or she-would be welcome, you know it. The house is big.

- My friends work, I reply, on my guard.

She starts a little ironic pout and guides me to the crowded counter.

The formalities completed, I get my coupe on the parking lot. It's amazing, from the first steps on the bitumen the smell of pines makes me smile and relaxes. A total change of climate, after the London rain.

I am his Golf hard on the Promenade des Anglais, in the middle of the traffic for the less fanciful of natives and tourists. The palm trees and the sea totally disorient me, but I have to concentrate on the road so that it does not sow me.

Finally we move away into the hinterland, the traffic becomes less dense and I discover the beautiful coastal scenery at every turn. The farmhouse is well hidden behind the vegetation, and the pool sparkles. Paradise...

July 9th. 21h. Juan les Pins

- Do you still want some melon?

- No, thanks, Raffaella.

- A little bit of wine ?

- Do you want to get drunk? I'm already dying hot ...

- Go back to the pool, then.

- My shirt is in my room.

- So what ? No need...

She stares at me with amusement, soaking her lips in her glass of rosé, with sensuality. Her low-cut black dress leaves no room for imagination, and her brown skin glows slightly with the reflection of candles. The night is heavy, the perfumes exhale their scents. He floats a feeling like a desire, blows us a song on the radio.

Raffaella, full-blown femininity and bright smile, tries to seduce me, knowing that she has very little chance of success, but that over a misunderstanding, maybe ... I know that her private life is complicated, but it's not I'm going to throw the stone at him.

- Are you sure you do not want him?

- Who ?

- The one you're thinking about, right now ...

In spite of myself, I blush:

- How do you know ?

- Honey, if you resist all my attempts at seduction, it's because you're in love. And it's a man, I think. Otherwise you would already be in my bed ...