It wasn’t a time of day during which she’d expected to encounter many people on the heath, but there was more happening than she had expected. Family groups were laying out picnics south of the path, where an impromptu football match was also going on. A number of sun worshippers sat upon deck chairs or had spread themselves supine or prostrate on towels upon the dead lawn. Two young men engaged in throwing a Frisbee （a hugely pointless activity, as far as Barbara was concerned）， and a number of pensioners wandered about with sun hats fixed to their heads. There was even a bird-watcher, Barbara saw, although his suspicious proximity to the Ladies’ Pond made doubtful his urge to seek out this or that golden-throated warbler.
The pond was tucked among desperate-looking shrubbery, sun-browned lawns, and thirsty trees nanoseconds away from dropping their leaves. When Barbara found it, she also found that the water was teeming with females. More women were relaxing in lawn chairs. Adolescent girls wearing three triangles of material strategically placed were diving into the water from a dock, while others darted in and out of a bathhouse, laughing and chatting to one another.
In some circumstances, finding Rosie Bontempi in this mass of female humanity wouldn’t have been an easy task. But since the swimming pond was on the edge of Highgate and since Highgate was a posh area （although, admittedly, not as posh as Hampstead）， most of the women present were, unsurprisingly, white. Thus, it didn’t take long for her to catch sight of Rosie, who had apparently eschewed swimming in favour of floating round on an inflatable chair. Rosie saw her at the same moment and gave a languorous wave. She hopped off the chair with a splash and swam to the edge of the pond, towing the chair behind her. Out she came like Neptune’s second cousin, displaying a body that could only be achieved through genetics, exercise, and a careful diet. She was wearing a yellow bikini with dots of blue. Barbara was very nearly embarrassed that she herself had donned a yellow T-shirt with blue letters proclaiming Go ahead. Underestimate me. That’ll be fun. She reckoned she’d get over the embarrassment quick enough, although both of them in yellow did rather look as if they’d planned the encounter.
Rosie was gracious enough not to mention the yellow and blue. She said, “Isn’t this glorious? Really, you should have planned a swim.”
“I should have done lots of things I’ve managed to avoid,” Barbara told her. “Where can we go to talk?”
Rosie gave her a how-would-I-know look, but she glanced round the pond and pointed to the shade of a golden rain tree, with several heroic, albeit now dead, flowers still clinging to it. As they walked towards it, Rosie handed the floating chair over to Barbara and grabbed a towel and a string bag she’d left on the lawn. She said, “I do hope this’ll be brief, Sergeant. Mum and I have a luncheon date. I must get ready for that, and anyway, I don’t know what else I can tell you.”
Loads, Barbara thought. But she shifted her grip on the floating chair and said airily, “This’ll be as brief as an English summer,” although, given the weather for the past two months, the interview could easily go on forever.
They reached the tree. Barbara plopped the chair onto the shady ground. Rosie plopped onto the chair. But she sat on its edge, leaving room for Barbara, saying, “No need to be less than comfortable.”
Barbara took out her notebook and pencil. She too sat on the edge of the chair. But she saw at once that this position gave Rosie the advantage since it kept her face from Barbara’s view. Because of this, she clambered back to her feet in a rolling motion that came very near to throwing her onto the sun-crisped lawn.
She said, “I’ve been going over a few details from our previous natter about the argument you had with Teo two days before she was coshed.”
“I don’t see why you need to do that. I’ve told you the truth from the start. What can I possibly add?” She used the towel on one of her legs, raising it, toes pointed heavenward. She went on to the other leg and did the same.
“You could start with explaining why you’ve changed your story.”
“Have I? Really? I don’t think I have.”
“First, you claimed the argument between you had to do with Teo not showing her face very often in New End Square post your dad’s stroke. Then you changed it to an argument due to the fact that you’re pregnant by Ross and you gave her the happy news. You claimed that the wedge issue between Ross and Teo was that he wanted children and she wasn’t exactly over the moon with the idea, but apparently that’s not genuine gold either. So which of the tales is true?”