Sweet Revenge

by Anne Mather

  'Tell me a little about yourself,' said the Condessa now. 'I understand you work for the same company as Paul.'

  Toni concentrated hard. 'Yes. I - I work in the typing pool.'

  'Have you known Paul long?'

  That was more difficult; she had never asked him that question. 'Long enough,' she prevaricated, with a forced laugh, glad to see that the old lady did not consider her reply in any way extraordinary.

  'And when are you planning to get married?' Then, suddenly: 'My dear, where is your ring?'

  A ring! Toni felt her cheeks burning. They hadn't discussed that either. 'My - my ring,' she said. 'I - er - it was too big, so it's being made smaller. We couldn't bring it with us.'

  'Oh,' the Condessa relaxed. 'I thought perhaps you had lost it. It is very unlucky to lose one's betrothal ring.'

  'Oh, I haven't lost it,' said Toni, with some confidence. That, at least, was the truth.

  'And you didn't tell me when you're planning to get married.'

  Toni swallowed hard. 'No. I - er - I suppose we're saving up as fast as we can, but I'm sure you realize everything is so expensive…' Her voice trailed away, and she prayed this would satisfy the Condessa.

  The Condessa smiled a little conspiratorially. 'But of course, my dear, the expense of it all! Still, as I'm sure Paul has told you, I am going to see that your finances are considerably improved before you leave here.'

  'What!' Toni stared at her in astonishment. Then, twisting her hands awkwardly, she said: 'Paul didn't - say much about it!' falteringly. Inwardly, she seethed. What was all this about? And what did the Condessa mean about improving Paul's finances? Was this why Paul had been so urgently desirous of a fiancee? Her thoughts raced. She had had her suspicions of Paul earlier, but she had not thought to have her doubts crystallized within a couple of hours of setting foot in the castelo.

  Happily, the Condessa dropped this topic of conversation and reverted back to their journey and Toni's first impressions of Portugal. In this Toni could be completely truthful; she told the Condessa she already loved the country, and was sure she was going to enjoy her stay enormously.

  An elderly servant appeared whom the Condessa addressed as Elena and she proceeded to comb the old lady's hair, and help her to choose some jewellery from a box on the dressing table. Even to Toni's inexperienced young eyes the gems sparkling and glinting in their satin-lined case looked to be worth a small fortune, and she moved uncomfortably, unused to the evidence of such wealth, and not particularly liking it.

  Then the Condessa said she was ready, and taking Toni's arm, she said: 'Come, Janet, we will go down to meet my grandson together.'

  The staircase Toni had been searching for lay around a bend in the corridor, and they descended together to a small chandelier-hung hallway, where Paul was waiting for them, looking tall and handsome in dark dinner clothes. He stared in astonishment at Toni with his grandmother, and his eyes darted to Toni's with something questioning in their depths. Toni gave an infinitesimal shake of her head, and he seemed to visibly relax.

  He greeted his grandmother warmly, kissing her on both cheeks, and she smiled rather roguishly at him. 'I have already met your charming fiancee, Paul,' she said, allowing him to link her arm with his. 'We met by accident, but I am sure it has proved more enjoyable for both of us than formal greetings could ever be, don't you agree, Janet?'

  Toni managed to nod casually, a smile on her face, while inwardly she longed to speak to Paul and confront him with her acquired knowledge.

  Paul, oblivious of any undercurrents, was delighted. 'I knew you two would take to one another,' he enthused. 'Janet - likes all this kind of thing, old buildings and historical places.'

  Toni wanted to deny the things Paul was saying despite their truth. He was using her genuine interest to capitalize on it.

  'Paul's a modernist,' she said coolly, ignoring his annoyed expression at her words. 'He likes to spend money, not look at it. In something of such monumental interest as this castle he can only see the monetary value!'

  Paul flushed. 'To— Janet's joking, of course,' he said sharply, and Toni trembled a little at the slip he almost made. 'Naturally, she likes to tease me!'

  The Condessa appeared not a wit concerned by this exchange, and smiled benevolently. 'Oh, you young people,' she said. 'How you like to bicker between yourselves ! In my day, a girl would not dare to answer back her fiancee, Janet. You don't appreciate the freedom you have, my dear.'

  Toni gave a wry smile, and then followed them across the hall into a long, high-ceilinged room where on a polished refectory table dinner was being served. Exquisitely embroidered place mats were set with silver cutlery, while every place had a selection of wine glasses in cut crystal. A centre piece of magnolias and roses complemented the silver candelabra, real candles burning in their sconces. Toni could not control the gasp of pleasure that escaped her, and the Condessa smiled in a satisfied way, and indicated that she should be seated. The Condessa sat at the head of the table with Paul on her right and Toni on her left. Then she beckoned the servant.

  'Will you tell Senhorita Francesca we are waiting for her,' she said imperiously.

  The servant bowed low. 'Senhorita Francesca has asked for dinner to be served in her room,' he said, politely, in English.

  'Tell the Senhorita Francesca that we are waiting for her,' replied the Condessa coldly. 'Tell her to come at once!'

  'Sim, senhora.' The manservant withdrew, and a few silent, uncomfortable minutes later a petulant Francesca appeared in the doorway, still dressed in the skirt and blouse she had been wearing that afternoon.

  'Sit down, Francesca,' said her grandmother smoothly, and then when the girl did so with ill grace, the Condessa indicated that the servants should begin serving the meal.

  Toni thought that the Condessa had more about her than she had at first imagined, and yet there was gentleness behind the request, and Francesca had responded to it without question.

  The meal progressed in silence for a while, until the Condessa began speaking to Paul about his parents, and how his job was faring. Toni barely listened to their comments. She was intensely aware of Francesca, and her emotions, which were almost tangible things. Even the lagosta suada a moda de peniche, which was a delicious dish of lobster and olives in a wine sauce, could not dispel the arrogant dislike emanating from the younger girl on her left.

  When the meal was over, they adjourned to a small lounge, and liqueurs were served with aromatic continental coffee. After her grandmother and Paul and Toni were seated, Francesca said:

  'Will you excuse me now, Avo?'

  The Condessa looked up at her coldly. 'No, indeed not, Francesca. You will sit down with Janet and speak with her while I talk to Paul.'

  'Oh, really—' began Toni awkwardly.

  'Do not be uncomfortable, my dear,' said the Condessa, smiling firmly. 'Francesca must make amends for her tardy behaviour this afternoon. Agreed, neta?'

  Francesca looked sulky, but she subsided on to the low couch beside Toni and said: 'Very well, Avo.'

  Toni accepted a cigarette from Paul, and after it was lit, she looked at Francesca thoughtfully. 'Tell me, Francesca,' she said, 'do you like it here, at Estrada?'

  Francesca shrugged, and then catching her grandmother's warning eye, answered: 'Yes, I love it, senhorita.'

  'Francesca,' said the Condessa, 'it is not necessary to call your cousin's fiancee senhorita. You may address her as Janet, as she is soon to be one of the family.'

  Toni flushed anew, and at last aroused Francesca's curiosity. 'Do you like it here?' she countered. 'After all, I do not suppose you are accustomed to staying in castles.' The words were deliberately rude, but Toni chose to ignore the fact.

  'No,' she said easily, in reply, 'I am not used to staying in castles, as you point out. However, I expect I shall learn.'

  Francesca scowled. 'Do you expect to stay long?'

  Tom shrugged. 'Long enough to teach an ignorant teenager some maimers, perhap
s,' she remarked casually.

  'You see, I am learning already. Are these perhaps the conversations of people who live in castles these days?'

  Francesca looked absolutely flabbergasted. She stared at Toni now, and caught the mocking twinkle in Toni's eyes. Unwillingly a faint smile touched Francesca's lips, and then she stifled it as though ashamed of her own sense of humour.

  'Now,' said Toni equably, 'perhaps we can have some intelligent conversation without this constant antagonism.'

  Francesca shrugged. 'What about?'

  Tell me about the bathing here. Is it good?'

  'Yes,' said Francesca slowly. 'Below the castelo there is a rock basin which is perfect for swimming when the tide is right. The water is never cold, as it is in England.'

  'You know England?' said Toni with interest.

  'I have been there, with my father. We stayed in London for a while, and then we went to a place on your south coast called - what is it? - Bourne - Bourne— She shook her head.

  'Bournemouth?' Toni supplied.

  'Yes, Bournemouth. It is a nice place, but the water is cold.'

  'We do not get the sun in England as you do here,' Toni reminded her. 'And the waters of the English Channel are not the warm waters of the Portuguese Atlantic.'

  'That I found, to my cost.' Francesca shivered. 'But my father likes England, so I suppose one day we will go again. He visits London often in the course of his business, but I am not allowed to accompany him.' She sounded dejected, and for a moment Toni felt sorry for her.

  'Did you see Buckingham Palace, when you were in London?'

  Francesca was at last enthusiastic. 'Oh, yes, and the Tower of London, and Hampton Court. We were just ordinary tourists. It was wonderful!'

  Toni smiled in agreement, and then Francesca, as though becoming aware that she was being too expansive, became silent again, and Toni gave up trying to talk to her. It was obvious that Francesca was not going to be an easy person to get to know, but it was possible to break the shell if one tried hard enough, and with the right ammunition.

  The rest of the evening passed pleasantly enough. Francesca was excused later, and after Toni had given up trying to speak to Paul for a moment alone, she too excused herself and retired to her bedroom. Whether Paul was aware of her desire to speak with him or not she was uncertain, but one thing was certain, and that was Paul's less than accurate invitation to join him in pleasing his grandmother. Paul's reasons for producing a fiancee so promptly were all monetary ones, Toni was sure, and she resented being used in this way. She was beginning to wish she had never come.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE next morning Toni was awakened by a young maidservant entering her room with a tray containing a glass of fresh orange juice and a small jug of coffee.

  'Bom dia, senhorita,' she said, smiling, and placing the tray on the table beside the bed.

  'Bom dia.' Toni struggled into a sitting position, brushing back the swathe of heavy hair that fell forward as she did so. 'What time is it?'

  'Desculpe-me, senhorita?' The girl looked puzzled, and Toni gave a smiling shake of her head indicating that it was not important, and with a brief bob the maid left the room. Obviously she did not understand English, and Toni thought she would have to get a Portuguese phrase book if she wanted to make herself understood.

  The fruit juice and coffee were delicious. Toni sipped her coffee as she crossed the room barefooted to swing wide her windows and gaze out disbelievingly at the fantastic view that awaited her. The sea was breaking in iridescent foam on the greenish-grey rocks, while a pale sun was filtering through a faint cloud formation. The sand looked almost white, and Toni longed to put on her bathing suit and go for a swim. But until she knew a little more about the habits of the household she did not like to presume too much.

  However, as she watched, she saw a figure appear from a small door set in the stone wall of the castle. Recognizing it as Francesca Toni watched as the girl found a pathway round the rim of the moat until she came to a small footbridge. She was carrying a string bag, and Toni saw her cross the grass to the side of the castle that swept down to the cliffs above the beach. She disappeared down a path near the cliffs and Toni thought she must have gone swimming. Her suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later when Francesca reappeared on the beach, and began shedding a loose robe she was wearing over her bathing suit. Toni sighed. She wished Francesca had mentioned swimming last evening. After all, the child must be lonely doing everything by herself.

  Eventually she withdrew, ran herself a bath, and after bathing dressed in slim-fitting green pants, and a sleeveless green overblouse made of broderie anglaise. She looked cool and attractive, her long hair gathered into two bunches with elastic bands.

  She descended the staircase she and the Condessa had used the night before and entered the dining-room. There was no one about, but in a few minutes another maid came to ask her what she would like for breakfast. This maid spoke broken English, and Toni was grateful. She explained that all she wanted was some coffee and rolls, and then wandered about the room exploring until it arrived. Half-way through her meal, Francesca appeared, her plait soaked and untidy, dressed in the same skirt and blouse she had worn the day before. Really, thought Toni, to remember Francesca was the daughter of a man who owned a castle was difficult when she continually dressed as though she had nothing else.

  After wishing the child 'Bom dia,' and receiving no reply but an insolent stare, Toni felt her temper rising. Controlling it with difficulty, she said: 'I wish you had told me you were going swimming, Francesca. I would like to have gone with you.'

  Francesca stared at her. 'Why should you?'

  Toni sighed. 'Well, why do you suppose? I like swimming. Is that answer enough for you?'

  Francesca shrugged. 'Paul never gets up before noon when he's here, and my grandmother is the same. Maybe it would be as well if you acted likewise.'

  Toni looked down at her coffee. 'Why are you so objectionable, Francesca?' she asked coolly.

  Francesca was obviously taken aback. 'I don't know what you mean,' she said sulkily.

  'Yes, you do. You know perfectly well what I mean. I would like to know, though, what have I done to deserve such treatment? Heavens, we only met yester- day!'

  'You're Paul's fiancee,' said Francesca.

  'So what! I know you don't like Paul, he told me so, but there's no reason for you to dislike me, surely?'

  Francesca buttered a roll, and bit it thoughtfully. 'Why has Paul come here?' she asked.

  Toni felt hot, but managed to control her blushes. She had no intention of allowing Francesca to see she had embarrassed her. 'To see his grandmother,' she replied.

  Francesca snorted. 'Some hopes! Paul only comes here when he wants money. If you thought he came to see Avo you're more gullible than I thought!'

  'Don't be impertinent,' said Toni, frowning. 'Even were anything of that sort true, which I am sure it's not, you're far too young to be making comments about it. It's nothing to do with you.' She finished her coffee. 'I think you're jealous, that's all. But why you should be jealous of me—'"

  Francesca laughed. 'I'm not jealous of you,' she said, and the way she said it was in itself insolence.

  Toni rose from the table, reaching for her cigarettes and lighting one. Francesca watched her.

  'Papa won't approve of you wearing slacks,' she said, with some satisfaction.

  Toni gave her an exasperated look. 'Really! Is that so? I'm positively quaking in my shoes!'

  Francesca looked mutinous and returned her attention to her rolls and butter. Without waiting for her to finish Toni left the room. She wasn't sure where she was going, but she had no intention of allowing Senhorita Francesca della Maria Estrada to arouse her any longer. The hall offered a selection of doors and Toni chose one. A corridor led to yet another door, and feeling quite adventurous now, Toni followed it, feeling quite disappointed when it opened into the courtyard that they had driven into the previous afterno
on. She had thought she might find something exciting. However, deciding she might as well explore as wait around for Paul to get up, she ventured forward. Obviously Francesca knew Paul's habits better than she did.

  She spent the morning on the beach. Following the path she had seen Francesca take, she found the steps - hewn out of the cliff face which led down to the sandy cove. She rolled up her slacks and paddled, then searched for shells among the rocks as she had done as a child. The sun was warm on her shoulders, and the sense of well-being returned. Only Francesca's antagonism prevented her from feeling completely happy.

  She returned in good time for lunch, carrying her sandals in her hand. Entering the courtyard, she was surprised to see a low grey limousine in the parking area. Visitors already? She entered the house by way of the small passage and emerged into the hall. Hearing sounds from the lounge, she walked towards its entrance, wondering if she could see Paul alone now. The lounge was a modern room in most respects, with a stereo-radiogram and a television set, as well as a small cocktail bar. But it was deserted apart from Eduardo, the manservant, who had attended them at dinner the previous evening. He was busy at the cocktail bar, mixing a drink, but as though aware of her presence, he turned, and said: 'Sim, senhorita?

  Toni smiled and shook her head disappointedly. 'It was nothing, Eduardo,' she said. 'I was looking for Senhor Paul.'

  'Com efeito, senhorita, senao porque?' said a voice behind her.

  Toni gasped and swung round to confront a man standing in the doorway, a tall dark man, with a thin livid scar marring the tanned flesh of his cheek. 'You!' she exclaimed, before she could prevent herself. It was the man who had almost knocked her down in Lisbon.

  He gave a slight bow of recognition, but his eyes narrowed. 'Why are you here in my house?' he asked in a cool voice, speaking English now.

  Toni swallowed hard. 'Your house?' she echoed faintly.

  'Yes, senhorita, my house.'

  'Then you are. . . .' Her voice trailed away.