Wednesday mid morning found Gordon testing the pool before the town pool tester arrived. He wanted to make sure the pump had circulated enough water to provide a safe reading. He didn't need a poor grade on the hotel's record. Deborah hadn't come home and he worried a bit about her reaction to his coffee break with Jeannette. Nita slogged around the pool court with her cleaning tools as though she'd been at it all night and when he put a way the test kit, he went to check that she wasn't watching TV again.

"Morning, Gordon."

He adopted a smile and made a zig toward where the sisters sat in front of their suite.

"Good morning, ladies. Hopefully a nicer day than Monday." He glanced up at the solid blue sky.

"I think we can count on that, the elder one answered.

"We have a teeny complaint, Gordon, nothing serious mind you, just a little something that we think you could fix without a lot of bother. You know we don't like to bother you with petty problems but then again if you don't catch things at the start they could grow into much larger problems down the road."

He nearly fell over, holding a polite smile and interested expression, waiting for the problem to be explained.

"How can I help?"

"Well I said to Betty this morning, didn't I, Betts," A confirming nod from the younger Betty. "I said, the light in our bathroom is flickering and Betts went in and came back and she agreed, didn't you, Betts?" Betts agreed.

"A flickering light." Gordon showed remarkable restraint in light of the waste of his time, and said he'd see to it right away.

"Oh well, we're just going in to change so if you could wait until we've gone shopping that would be wonderful."

"Wonderful it is, "he grimaced. "It will be fixed before you return."

"Thank you, Gordon. I said to Betts, I said, Gordon will take care of it, didn't I, Betts?" Betts nodded solemnly. He hurried off to find Nita and was pleased to see she was actually working. Maybe the day would be better than he thought.

The glass doors swung open and Gordon saw the town pool tester wander in with his bag of chemicals and his binder full of comments.

"Morning, Mr. Jakes, give me good report now won't you?" Gordon chuckled as he joined the man by the skimmer.

"This needs cleaning." Jakes pointed out. A few small leaves from the bougainvillea had stuck to the side of the basket.

"Soon as you're finished," Gordon promised.

Jakes measured his samples carefully and added the chemicals with equal precision, shaking the tester and studying the results with a hypercritical eye.

"Hmmph seems adequate," he muttered, with apparent disappointment. He dumped the chemistry in the pool and put his kit away then went around checking the temperature.

"Hah, eighty-one. Town regulation is eighty, Mr. Hardy."

"It's the sun, Mr. Jakes. I can't be that accurate with a man-made heating system against a force of the universe." Gordon was well aware of Jakes' religious piety and always managed to use it to his advantage with the man.

Jakes looked heavenward and serenity passed over his face. "No . . . I suppose not . . ." He opened his binder and made an entry then bid Gordon good day.

"My score?" He called.

"B plus." The glass doors closed with a swish.

"Cheap bugger," Gordon muttered. He headed back to the office and was stopped by a shout from the end of the patio.

"Excuse me?" The woman was wearing a straw hat the size of a flying saucer shading a good portion of the patio around her. Her large round sunglasses were jet black and her bikini was the colour of flesh, which made Gordon do a double take.

"Have you got a minute?"

He strolled back to the end of the pool and smiled a good morning. "Problem?"

"My husband shut our room door and now he can't get it opened. Could you help please?"

"Certainly. Can't have guests locked out of their rooms." He followed her on her floppy pool heels, staying well clear of the wafting brim on her hat.

"He's actually locked inside," she called back, turning her head and slicing a bloom from one of the climbing plants.

Gordon ducked past her and came to the sliding glass door of their room. The man was frantically yanking on the handle and mouthing obscenities at his lack of success. He resembled some unhappy specimen on display in a zoo that held their subjects in glass, instead of wire, cages.

"Sir, don't pull on the handle, let me try from out here."

The man let go and glared poisonously at Gordon.

Using his key from the ring on his belt, Gordon fiddled and fussed, twisting and jiggling all to no avail, all the time smiling and nodding reassuringly. The man changed his stance from anticipatory release to stubborn annoyance to a fist clenching threat as Gordon began to feel the sweat soaking into his back.

"Sir, did you do anything to the lock inside?" he called through the door.

"I never touched the—"

"Mark!" His wife called sharply, indicating the senior sisters on the patio.

"Nothing." Dark frown.

"Could you maybe try moving it a bit?"

Mark, as Gordon learned, was not a half measures guy. He grasped the lock handle and jerked it violently, snapping the mechanism off in his fingers.

"Oops, not the result we intended." He gave the couple a sick look.

"What can we do?" Mrs. Mark was becoming panicky.

"I'll get my lock guy over here right away and we'll have him out of there in no time.

She moved up to the door and the huge brim folded down over her face against the glass. There was a moment of awkward adjusting and then they stood face to face, sympathetic puppy dog eyes doing all the talking. Gordon hurried away to the office to phone. When he came back, Mrs. Mark was lounging comfortably by the pool, her umbrella hat settled on the flagstones beside her.

"Is he okay? The guy will be about fifteen minutes. He has to come from out of town."

"He's fine; he found a basketball game on the TV." She shifted and the bikini shifted with her-- fortunately.

Gordon always wondered at the physics of how such measly strands of material managed to conceal such large areas.

"Right then, I'll come down as soon as he gets here."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Hardy." One leg bent at the knee and she rolled partially toward him.

"Garden- Gordon. My job Mrs--.uhm--" The phone rang and he jogged gratefully back to the office.

"Gordon, Betty here. We're going shopping now."

"Wonderful. Thanks for the call, Betty." He placed the receiver gently on the rest, tempted to behave like Mark. A flickering light needed all hands on deck.

********************

Jeannette lolled in the California king bed, too lazy to drag herself out to face another day. She stretched her arms up over the pillow and let them fall there as she watched Clifford packing all the necessities for his golf game.

"How was the game yesterday," she asked, not in the least interested.

"Pretty darn good. I had two birdies and I beat Walter by four strokes. They lose I buy them lunch." He checked his pockets by touch and satisfied, gave Jeannette a snappy salute and headed out of the bedroom.

"Shouldn't they be paying you?"

"It keeps them disciplined. I don't get any flack." He continued out the door.

"What about dinner?" She called after him.

"Eating at the club with the guys," came the reply, punctuated by the slamming of the door.

"The 'Guys'." She made a face a rolled sensuously onto her side and stared out the window. The roar of Clifford's Porche made her frown and then the screech as he tore off down the street brought a large sigh.

Jeannette represented in the purest, most strict sense of the definition, a golf widow. Not that she cared but it was a topic among the other women, married or single. She was deemed to lack something despite her movie star looks and it rankled to have them stop conversation briefly every time she came close to a group.

The money, or at least her access to it, kept her social prominence at status quo, as well as the fact that most of the husbands and boyfriends would circle the wagons if she were ever left out of anything in which the elite groups partook. They all knew she was more than a long-suffering golf widow.

She recognized her position and her power and she reveled in the fact. If Clifford were considered eccentric by the town, they would never dare utter the sentiment; his wealth could by the town and banish the lot if he chose. This gave her wide latitude in doing as she pleased. When she had wanted to contribute something beyond luncheons with the girls or donations to local charities, she took on the Chamber of Commerce, and was opposed by no one.

Unfortunately, the post required a daily regimen of meetings and reports and on days like this when she just wanted to stay in bed she began to question her civic involvement.

She rolled a little further, lifted the phone from the night table, and dialed a number.

"Roger, Jeannette. I want to add a name to the guest list for the cocktail part of the Mayor's party Friday. Not the dinner mind you, just the pre party drinks. It's Gordon Hardy. See that an invitation goes out right away, please."

She closed her eyes and listened to Roger's objections, let him wind down and then accepted his agreement then told him she wouldn't be in until afternoon. Roger groaned and began a litany of reasons why that was not good and she gently replaced the receiver. The impulse to invite Gordon was a nod to her naughty side; she was in the mood for mischief.

She felt a little more energized and she slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, ran the shower and stepped in, letting the water pummel her with a steady intensity. An hour later, Jeannette paraded in front of the bedroom wall of mirror, studying critically the way the dress flared when she turned and how much could be revealed with a judicious pirouette.

The shoes were mostly strap with little substance and the heels were dangerously high. She favoured a tiny garter belt and stockings for her mood, and with the bangle earrings and the matching bracelet, she decided on foregoing a necklace, opening another button instead.

Satisfied, Jeannette strutted out to the driveway and her car. Breakfast today would be brunch and it would be at the new Jai Alai Club. Many of the competitors dined there before their matches and she felt a little Latin with her Eggs Benedict would go down nicely.