Anger takes over.

Camille snorts in frustration.

"Jan-Pierre can rot in the desert if that's what he wants." She grumbles angrily.

"I won't let him, or this damn wind, ruin my day." She adds unwrapping her sarong and offering her fair delicate body to the flaming African sun.

She stands up from the sunbed and, not without struggling a bit, she tumbles it on its side.
With her wind shield up, she grabs her towel and lays it down directly on the sand.

"Why i had to marry such an idiot?" She mutters sitting on it and furiosly starting to apply her suncream on her legs.

"Excuse me, Madam ..."

Lost in her grumbling, Camille didn't notice that a tall shadow had aproached her and was now blocking her sun.