a world of good. Furthermore, if he succeeded in keeping his promise - and he was determined to do so - he would be in the best possible shape to claim as a reward the sexual intercourse he had forfeited the previous night.
The spa session contributed to his plan by being thoroughly enjoyable, if mildly absurd. It was a large, self-important establishment, staffed by immaculately manicured and coiffed ladies in white coats, architecturally eclectic (Greek temple crossed with Taj Mahal), its interior walls clad in a plausible imitation of marble, and its floors covered with non-slip ceramic tiles. There were fountains and foot-baths and replicas of classical statuary in the central area, off which various themed saunas and steam rooms were situated.They sampled the Roman Laconium, the Tryrolean Sauna, the Turkish Hammam, the Indian Blossom Steam Room and the Japanese Salt Bath. They meditated in the Aqua Meditation Room and, wrapped in the towelling robes provided, trod the stepping stones of the Zen Garden in their bare feet.They cleansed and closed the pores of their sweating bodies under the multisensory showers which shot jets of icy water at them from all angles, choosing from a range of options, including tropical storm with thunder and lightning effects, and mint-flavoured mist. Then they floated languidly in the warm outdoor pool, which periodically became a giant jacuzzi, pummelling their muscles therapeutically with its forceful bubbles. Between these experiences they reclined in loungers and sipped water and read or simply relaxed. There was, he was told, piped music of a gentle inoffensive kind, but he of course could not hear it. The others went off for various massages - reiki for Winifred, shiatsu for Jakki and Swedish for Lionel - but he was happy to stay in the relaxation area with the novel he had brought with him. He found a cosy nook containing a kind of ottoman covered with a shaggy artificial hide, a seat such as Tamburlaine or Genghis Khan might have lolled on after victory on the battlefield. If Waterworld was a kind of benign hell, he mused, the spa was a very acceptable kitsch heaven.
They spent several hours there, ate lunch with voracious appetites in its café, and then went ten-pin bowling, ‘where half the fun of the simple and repetitive game,’ he remembered some writer saying, ‘lies in watching the machinery set up the pins and return the balls’. Neither he nor Winifred had ever bowled before, but they acquitted themselves well - Winifred indeed showing real aptitude and achieving the highest score. Then they returned to the chalet at four in the afternoon for a cup of tea and a rest before going out to dine at Gladeworld’s premier restaurant, which Desmond now referred to as Soi Disant. It was all going so well, when with a self-indulgent remark he turned the conversation, and events, in an ill-starred direction.
‘The spa is fine in itself,’ he said, when they were discussing its merits, ‘but of course having to wear swimming costumes is a nonsense. You really need to be naked in a sauna or a steam room to get the full benefit.’ ‘You’re right, Des,’ said Lionel. ‘It’s not very comfortable sweating into a pair of trunks.’ ‘But then they’d have to segregate the sexes,’ said Jakki, ‘which wouldn’t be much fun for couples like us.’ ‘I’ve been to a public sauna in Germany where everybody was naked, men and women together,’ Desmond said, ‘and nobody turned a hair.’ ‘Not even a pubic hair?’ Lionel quipped. ‘Is this another of your jokes, Des?’ Jakki asked suspiciously. ‘No, it’s true,’ he said. ‘It was in Bremen. I was on a British Council lecture tour.’ It pleased him to remind the company that he had once been a well-travelled, sophisticated citizen of the world. ‘Well, we’ve got our own private sauna on the back porch,’ said Lionel. ‘What are you suggesting, Lie?’ Jakki said, slapping him playfully. ‘That we all prance about in the nude out there?’ ‘After dark, nobody would see you,’ Lionel said. ‘We could give it a go when we come back from the restaurant. Not all together - one couple at a time.’ ‘Bad idea,’ said Desmond. ‘You should never have a sauna straight after a meal.’ ‘Well, it’s nearly dark now,’ said Lionel. ‘We’ve got time before we go out.’ ‘I’ve had quite enough hot air and cold water for today, thanks,’ Winifred said. ‘Count me out.’ ‘Yes, me too,’ said Jakki, in womanly solidarity. ‘You