Free Sinners by Jackie Collins

here for you, she’s sitting over there.’
    Sunday looked over in surprise and saw a girl, flopped out in a chair, sunglasses shielding her eyes. ‘Who is she?’
    The old lady reached for a message pad. ‘Dindi Sydne.’
    ‘Oh!’ Sunday remembered her from Jack Milan’s party. The girl who had known Paulo. What on earth was she doing here?
    Sunday took the flowers and letter, carefully peeling off the stamp and handing it to the old lady. It was from her aunt; she would read it later.
    The note with the two dozen roses read: ‘ When are you going to change your mind? S.M .’
    She walked over to the girl in the chair and nudged her gently.
    The girl sat up like a startled rabbit. ‘Shit!’ she exclaimed loudly. ‘Sunday! Oh, and you’ve brought me flowers – how nice!’ She stood up. She was wearing tight hipster orange pants, and a brief sweater. Her exposed midriff was very tanned. ‘Guess what happened to me? I was driving along Sunset in my beautiful T-Bird and the frigging little monster goes and blows up! Fortunately it happened not two blocks from here, right by a gas station, and this adorable mechanic with muscles like Superman is fixing it for me. I remembered you lived here, so I figured I’d while away the afternoon with you. He’s going to drop it back here when it’s fixed. You should see him – a real sex machine!’
    Excuses leapt to Sunday’s lips, but she hated to lie, and anyway, the girl was only trying to be friendly.
    ‘That’s fine. I thought I might sit by the pool, you’re welcome to join me.’
    ‘Yeah, great. I’ll borrow a bikini. My tan could do with a booster.’ She examined her stomach.
    ‘I’m just going upstairs, I’ll bring you down a bikini.’
    Dindi linked arms with her. ‘I’ll come with you.’
    Upstairs, Limbo, Sunday’s little dog, came bounding to greet them. The rooms were stuffy and Sunday turned up the air conditioning.
    Dindi wandered around, picking up everything to inspect. ‘Who are all these flowers from?’ she asked.
    ‘Just a friend,’ Sunday replied shortly.
    ‘A very good friend,’ Dindi said with a chuckle. ‘I adore good friends. I once made it with a guy on top of six dozen red roses. It was the end, very sexy. Only he couldn’t come, said the smell put him off. Some guys are so weird.’
    ‘Here.’ Sunday handed her a green and-white bikini. Dindi stepped out of her pants and sweater, revealing that she wore nothing underneath. She put on the bikini. ‘Man, you’ve got big boobs – give me some cotton wool to pad this thing out. I wish I had a big pair, guys really dig that.’
    Dindi was not exactly flat-chested, Sunday had observed.
    They rode down in the elevator and walked the short distance to the pool. It was nearly deserted except for an aged woman in a huge flowered hat, and a muscle-bound man stretched out and covered with oil.
    ‘Not much happening here,’ Dindi said, a note of disappointment in her voice. ‘You should move to the Beverly Hills, the pool there is always full of action.’
    ‘Listen, Dindi, let’s get one thing clear. I am not looking for any action. I enjoy peace and quiet.’
    Dindi lifted orange-tinted sunglasses and stared in disbelief. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realize I was with such queenly company. For someone who doesn’t want to swing, you certainly look the part. Do you want me to go? Buzz away and leave you to your peace and quiet?’
    ‘No, of course not. I just wanted you to know, that’s all.’
    ‘So I know. Hey, I’m going to ask that guy to lend me some of his oil.’ And she was off.
    Sunday decided she quite liked her. She was loudmouthed, nosey, and obviously a pushover with men, but she had a certain honest charm.
    She came back after ten minutes, triumphantly bearing a bottle of sun oil. ‘That’s Branch Strong,’ she announced. ‘He’s in from New York to do a test. He swings both ways.’
    ‘How do you know?’ Sunday asked curiously.
    ‘I have a feeling for