The Holiday Home Page 0,91

she asked Henry.

Relieved that she’d changed the subject, Henry agreed and led her on to the dance floor. Taking her in an elegant hold, he asked: ‘Can you cha-cha?’

‘Yes! My mother loved dancing. She taught me all the ballroom stuff.’

‘Here we go then. Cha-cha one, two …’

And they were off. Soon, the crowd stood back and allowed the couple the entire dance space. When they finally came to a flamboyant end, they were rewarded with tremendous applause. Henry held Belinda’s hand while she curtsied and blew kisses, then escorted her off the floor.

‘Your mother taught you well,’ he said, puffing a little from the exertion.

‘Thank you.’ Belinda ran a hand through her damp hair. ‘She was a good teacher.’

‘Was she a dance teacher?’

‘Nothing so provincial!’ Belinda laughed. ‘No, she danced in the theatre. She was a part-time model too. But when she met my father, she was a Bunny Girl.’

Henry stood still for a moment before recovering himself. ‘Really? What was her name?’

‘Susie Taylor.’ Belinda stopped smiling and looked him dead in the eye. ‘Hello, Daddy.’

28

It was the night of Henry’s twenty-eighth birthday and he was walking into the glamorous Playboy Club on London’s Park Lane. Where else would a young man want to be in 1968?

‘Want a drink, H?’ James was at the bar and shouting across the music.

‘Large Scotch,’ Henry shouted back. He stood watching the Bunny Girls as they circulated with full drinks trays, dispensing the glasses with the famous Bunny dip: a move where the girls backed towards the table and handed the drinks gracefully with a small reverse knee bend, preventing, Henry thought, their plentiful breasts from spilling out of their costumes.

The girls looked incredible. Very classy, very sexy and unlike any woman Henry had ever seen in the flesh.

‘Here you are, old man. Cheers.’ James appeared beside him. Henry took the glass and raised it. ‘To us!’ They each took a good swig. ‘How long have you been a member here?’ Henry asked.

‘Pa gave me membership when I was twenty-five. Pretty cool, eh? Ma doesn’t know. She doesn’t know Pa joined either.’ He laughed. ‘Some things are best kept secret! Fancy playing the tables?’

‘I don’t know how. And I don’t have enough cash.’

‘My treat – come on.’

In the casino room, James got them both settled at a roulette table. The croupier, another Bunny Girl, was watching as the ball bounced into number 17. Henry, fascinated, watched as she pushed a huge pile of chips to the winner and collected all the losing bets. She must have a brain like a calculator, he thought. James slapped a handful of mixed chips in front of him. ‘There’s a hundred there. Happy birthday.’

‘Thanks. What do I do?’

Following James’s example, he placed a bet: one five-pound chip on number 28, his age. It came up. The croupier Bunny smiled and pushed him his winnings. ‘Well done, sir,’ she said, giving him a radiant smile.

‘Beginner’s luck,’ James said scornfully. James ordered them each another drink and together they played the table until James ran out of money and Henry felt he might run out of luck. When he cashed the chips in, he had enough to pay James back his hundred and treat him to dinner in the club’s dining room.

It was two in the morning by the time they spilled out on to Park Lane. Standing outside was a girl in a shiny red PVC coat, short enough to reveal shapely knees and black wet-look boots. It was the croupier Bunny.

‘Hello again,’ said Henry. ‘Looking for a cab?’

‘Oh, hello.’ She smiled, her gorgeous lips framing perfect teeth. ‘Yes.’

‘Which way are you going?’ he asked.

‘West, Shepherd’s Bush.’

‘What a coincidence – I’m going that way too.’ Henry stood on James’s toe to stop him from contradicting. ‘Would you care to share a cab?’

She hesitated for a moment before replying, ‘Bunnies aren’t supposed to fraternise with customers, you know … But that would be very kind. Thank you.’

James insisted that they take the first cab and waved them off. Henry couldn’t believe his luck, having her all to himself. She told him her name was Susan Taylor, she was twenty-four and a model. The Playboy thing was a bit of fun, though it did give her a regular income.

Henry did his best to impress her, telling how he had only recently returned from America, having completed a business course at Harvard. His father had stumped up the cash, all part of grooming him to run the family firm.

‘What is the family