The Blue Guide by Carrie Williams

green is harmonising and so on. Your eyes and your skin absorb the colour, apparently, and you get happy, or sleepy, or whatever you want to be.’
    â€˜Why don’t you try it?’ he says, leaning forwards to start the bath filling. ‘It also has a hydrotherapy option, basically lots of fizzy bubbles. Please, be my guest. I’ll get my man to bring up an extra bathrobe.’
    I umm and err, sipping at my cognac. I’d be an absolute fool to pass up on an opportunity like this, but I feel so cheeky taking him up on the offer. My mind turns to young Carlotta: Paco may be offering his bath in all innocence, but how would it look if she were to walk in on the scene? Wouldn’t she freak out?
    â€˜
Go on
,’ urges Paco. ‘You only live once. Look, I know it’s late and you’re thinking about all the hassle of drying your hair, getting dressed, going back out into the cold. But I’ll give you some money for a taxi door to door, or better still, why don’t you stay in the spare room?’
    That decides it for me. Carlotta’s not here and isn’t coming back tonight, and I’m not one to turn my nose up at a bit of unadulterated luxury without a damn good reason.
    â€˜Thanks, Paco,’ I say, and he smiles.
    â€˜Just shout if you need something,’ he says. ‘I’m going to make a few calls. I’ll have the butler leave the robe on the bed.’
    He takes my empty glass and exits the room, leaving me standing there looking around in wonder at the walls covered in indigo, purple and brown gilt and glass tiles, at the flatscreen TV set into the mirror above the two vanity units, and lastly back at the bath. I shrug off my blouse, unzip my skirt and step out of it, then peeloff my underwear. I step up to one of the mirrors. They’re the expensive distressed silver-leaf glass-panelled kind that, combined with sensitive lighting, make your skin look young and soft and peachy. I touch my breasts with both hands, look down at my flat stomach and freshly waxed bush. I know I look great. I like to take care of myself. Not for anybody else, but for the pleasure of feeling toned and clean and smooth. Even, or especially, when I’m feeling a little low. I masturbate a lot, probably more than the average girl, but my body is a source of great pleasure to me, and nobody knows what I like better than I do, though Daniel seemed to be getting the hang of things pretty quickly.
    Daniel’s face in my mind, I slide one finger between my fanny lips, rub my clitoris a little; I’m wet and need no further lubrication. I look back at the bath, just in time to see it begin to overflow. I sprint over to turn it off, but water continues to slide over the edge.
    I panic, sling a towel around me and run out of the bathroom in search of Paco. I find him lying on the sofa watching a flatscreen TV that has materialised from behind a screen in the drawing room, talking into a cordless phone. Worried that he’s speaking to Carlotta and not wanting her to hear my voice, I gesture wildly at him.
    â€˜I’ll call you back in a minute,’ he says and kills the line.
    â€˜What’s wrong?’ he says. ‘There a giant spider in there or something? The butler creep in on you? You women . . .’
    â€˜It’s not that,’ I squeal. ‘Paco, the bloody bath’s overflowing. I don’t know how to switch it off. The whole place is going to be flooded and you’ll be . . .’
    I stop. Paco is laughing hard, his hand on my forearm.
    â€˜What is it?’ I say testily.
    â€˜Alicia, it’s
supposed
to do that,’ he says. ‘Sorry, I should have said – it’s also an infinity-edge pool, which means that it’s set to overflow the whole time.’
    I stare at him. ‘Right,’ I say at last. ‘Silly of me not to realise.’
    He rubs my arm where he still holds it. ‘Go back and have