Across the Lagoon

by Roumelia Lane

  The corridors were dimly lit. They went along to their room, switched on the light and closed the door behind them.

  Stephanie wasted no time in preparing for bed. Carol thought that she might as well go too. She knew that beneath her excitement she was dreadfully weary, and an early night would probably be the wisest.

  They each made trips to the bathroom to scrub their hands and faces for the night, returning with shining complexions, the fragrance of soap lingering around their bathrobes. When they had brushed their hair and slipped into nightwear, Carol padded to the door and switched out the light. The roadside lamps shone faintly through the heavy curtains, filled the room with a pale glow as she made for her bed. She slipped between the sheets and lay happily staring at the ceiling.

  She thought of the day with all its emotional ups and downs, while she had tried to get used to the imperious ways of Gray Barrett. She thought about her family. She could just see them now, grouped around the television in the living room, some watching, the others causing chaos.

  But most of all she thought of tomorrow and Italy. Was she really going abroad? She still couldn't believe it. She knew lots of girls who had already managed to see at least one foreign country, but the possibility of her doing the same herself had always seemed very remote. Now here she was. Her bags were packed, she had a brand-new passport, and tomorrow she would actually be flying!

  What would it be like, speeding through the air for the first time? She was casting her mind back to all the girlish chatter she had heard describing the experience, when a faint sound came to her ears.

  She listened. It was coming from the other bed, the muffled sound of weeping.

  Raising herself quickly on her elbows, she asked in the darkness, 'Stephanie, is anything the matter?'

  'No, nothing,' came the sniffling reply, and impatiently, 'For goodness' sake go to sleep!'

  Carol dropped back on to the pillow again. Her heart ached as she listened to the stifled gulps beneath the bedclothes. She felt ashamed now of her own high spirits. The sniffs in the darkness sobered her into seeing the other side of the picture. For her the trip tomorrow was something new and exciting, whereas for Stephanie it was just another dreary round of filling in the time until school started again.

  Feelingly, Carol resolved to do all she could to make the young girl's summer in Italy a happy one.

  The alarm of the little travelling clock on the bedside table went off at precisely seven-thirty. The two girls rose promptly. They had nothing to do but wash and dress and slip their nightwear and toilet things into their cases. Carol wished she could have borrowed some of Stephanie's calm. Her stomach had a funny butterfly ache in it, and she felt weak from nervous tension.

  The younger girl, showing no signs of the tears of last night, was wearing a plain day dress in bottle green, so Carol decided to make do with her check suit again and a slightly less fussy blouse.

  They went downstairs a few minutes after eight. Gray Barrett was pacing the foyer as though they were hours late. Carol irritated him further by stopping to drop her postcards in the box beside the reception desk.

  The atmosphere in the restaurant was vastly different from that of last night. Most of the tables were empty. The ones that weren't were occupied by grumpy tired- looking individuals, and the only sound to break the cold silence of the early morning was the waiters' whispered footsteps over the carpet and the muted clatter from the kitchens in the distance.

  Carol found it difficult to get any breakfast down. She was grateful most for the big cup of milky coffee which soothed her churning insides.

  There was no lingering about this morning. After breakfast there was barely time for the girls to go up to their room for a final tidy up, before the porter was knocking on the door to carry their luggage down.

  They hurried down to the foyer, only to find themselves hanging about beside the cases. Carol gazed with knotted-up insides across the space. It was just typical of Gray Barrett, she thought, to have them scurrying around upstairs and then take his time at the reception desk.

  She watched him passing the time of day with one or two other departing guests as he went through the business of paying the bill. She noticed that he was never short of something to say when he was in masculine company. She supposed he was what her father would call 'a man's man'.

  She moved her gaze away and, like Stephanie, whiled away the moments watching the early morning movement in the foyer. She saw the woman of the Indian couple disappear through an archway in a brilliant pink sari and head shawl.

  The click of a firm heel across the tiles heralded Gray Barrett's approach at last. With a snap of his fingers he had the cases carried out to the door. A taxi was hailed and drew in almost at once. All the luggage went into the space beside the driver.

  Carol climbed in with Stephanie. She found it a bit disconcerting having Gray Barrett in the back with them. Of course he didn't sit with them. He used one of the pull-down seats facing theirs, and as the taxi started off he turned his preoccupied gaze out of the window.

  He was seated opposite Stephanie, so at least Carol had breathing space. She felt she needed it. She wouldn't have known where to put herself if he had sat facing her. She fidgeted, trying to keep her gaze out of the window, but somehow it kept finding its way back into the car and skimming over his immaculate pastel blue shirt, the curling dark hair around his ear and his jutting clean-shaven jaw.

  Of the taxi's movements, she knew vaguely that they were shunting along traffic-congested streets and speeding around corners. Finally they left the blare of the city behind and took to the fast-moving motorway.

  To Carol it seemed an interminable ride. She felt jaded already and they had only just started the journey. Her interest picked up when views of the airfield started to appear. She saw planes in the distance spread- eagled on the ground. Her heart took a dive when one rose up with a roar and streaked off straight as an arrow into the sky. She felt quite limp when they alighted from the taxi outside the airport building.

  Gray Barrett watched the unloading of the luggage and saw that it was wheeled inside, after which he shepherded the girls in ahead of him.

  All was bustle and activity. The hollow ring of people's voices, trundling trolleys and loudspeakers sounded across the vast spaces. Carol had to watch that she didn't get left behind as she swung her wide-eyed glance around.

  They went to have the luggage weighed. Then the tickets had to be checked. There seemed so much to do, so many things to be taken care of, she wondered if they were ever going to be finished trailing from one point to another.

  When at last it appeared that all the formalities had been taken care of, Gray Barrett went to buy a paper. Stephanie bought one of the teenage magazines which she seemed fond of. Carol couldn't get her mind to grasp at anything. Above the hum of voices in the airport lounge, which they had transferred to, she could hear the engines of the planes outside; the occasional thunder of one taking off. She wished that the noise didn't terrify her so.

  She began to have distinct longings for home, for the comforting atmosphere of the family scene, where nothing went any faster than the toy handcart that her sisters tugged up and down the Common.

  She sat while the others read feeling her heart pounding in a frightening way. When all at once, to the sound of a voice over the loudspeaker, everyone rose, Gray Barrett and his niece included, she had an awful feeling that her legs weren't going to hold her.

  She struggled to her feet and tried to look as indifferent as everyone else in the surge towards the doors out to the plane. She stuck close to Stephanie and together with her was scooped along in the shepherding arm of Gray Barrett. Seeing that dark suit sleeve under her nose, Carol would have given anything, just then, to cling to it.

  There was a terrible whining noise and the feel of rushing air as they came out to crowd down a narrow corridor which led up to the plane doors. Stewardesses with happy smiles on their faces, which soothed Carol's shredd
ed nerves a little, were there to greet everyone who came on board.

  She felt soft carpet under her feet, cool air-conditioning on her face and amidst the heads of the people in front gazed down the incredible length of the plane.

  The seats were in rows of threes. She had no idea where to go. Apparently one just strolled down the aisle and pleased oneself. Eventually Gray Barrett nodded towards a row. Because she was in the lead, Carol was compelled to slide in first She had no desire to sit near the window, but she didn't see what else she could do. If she demurred and let Stephanie go in first, it meant sitting next to Gray Barrett, and she would never survive that.

  While she was fighting off a slight claustrophobic feeling with the small window at the side of her and the tall seats in front, the other two settled themselves in beside her. She marvelled at the way they calmly returned to their reading. The engine of the plane was throbbing. The stewardesses were checking everything. Soon they would be leaving the ground which she gazed on lovingly now from her window. How could they read at a time like this?

  She was shaken momentarily out of her terror by the looming figure of Gray Barrett. She had watched Stephanie fasten her seat belt and had fumbled to do the same. Now the big figure leaned in to check the firmness of it, and his niece's, before sitting back to fasten his own.

  Carol gathered by this action that they were due to start out and sure enough, a second or two later the plane moved forward, its engines accelerating to an almighty roar. Her hands gripping the arms of her seat, she watched in fascinated horror as the ground started to move past the window.

  She knew nothing of airport procedure; of such things as the pilot having to wait for his signals, of taxiing across the apron to reach the runway, so that she suffered a tense hang-up of three or four minutes needlessly.

  She began to wonder if they were going to Italy overland. The plane sped on and on. Just when she was beginning to get a feeling of anti-climax, the ground fell away before her very eyes, her seat seemed to slope into the air, and even as she half-sneaked a look, trucks, cars, trees, houses took on a toy-like quality.

  Hypnotised, she watched a wisp of cloud float past the window, then quickly she brought her gaze inside. Everyone looked so normal when she stared around. The passengers seemed to accept, almost gaily, that only the floor of the plane separated them from all that space outside. The stewardesses were tripping down the aisle and people were unfastening their seat belts. Carol pretended to fiddle with hers, but she kept it tightly fastened. She had heard that the journey would take just over two hours, and during that time she preferred to stay glued to her seat.

  To the drone of engines she tried to take an interest in Stephanie's magazine raised at the side of her, but nothing registered on her glazed senses. Looking outside was worse. She had discovered that the plane's wing was just a little way along from her window, and horror of horrors, she could see all sorts of weird mechanisms working; flaps sliding in and out, wires coiling this way and that, and lights flickering on and off. It was just too awful to watch.

  Rigidly she sat trailing her gaze over the air-conditioning buttons overhead, and along the seat pockets in front of her, schooling herself to look anywhere but out of the window.

  Some of her sickly apprehension must have communicated itself to Stephanie, for after a while the younger girl lowered her magazine and turned to ask, her brown gaze curious, 'Are you feeling all right?'

  'Oh, I will be ..." Carol's attempt at humour was strained, 'I just can't get used to being in the air.' She hid her envy of the younger girl's calm acceptance and asked, 'Doesn't flying bother you?'

  Stephanie considered the question for a moment, then replied, 'I was a bit timid the first time, but I've done it so often. Now it's just like catching a bus. And much more convenient.'

  Carol smiled lamely. She couldn't say she altogether agreed with that.

  Halfway through the journey a light snack was served. Stephanie was very helpful in showing Carol how to pull out the stand for her tray from the back of the seat in front. Not that she could eat a thing. The resemblance of an appetite she might have been building up was snatched away when a series of bumps and dips overtook the plane. Her coffee cup shook wildly in her hand, partly because of the jarring motion, but mainly because she was scared out of her wits.

  Stephanie came to her rescue again. 'It's a bit of bad weather,' she said nonchalantly, pointing out of the window. Carol cringed a look outside and saw smokelike angry black clouds speeding past the window a short distance away. Beyond them the sky was incredibly blue and the sun shone down brilliantly. As they bumped along she was told, 'I expect the pilot will try and climb above it.'

  She hung on, biting her lip, sure that the flimsy plane couldn't stand all this banging about. Then braving another look out of the window she saw that they were indeed soaring up towards the sun and the smoking black clouds were now racing by below them. Soon all was smooth once again.

  The incident had lasted for perhaps no more than five minutes. To Carol it had seemed like a lifetime. She felt limp and chewed up and couldn't wait to have firm ground beneath her feet again. When later a voice came over the intercom to say that they were approaching Venice, she thought she had never heard a sweeter sound in the whole of her life.

  Like everyone else she bent to attend to her seat belt when the time came, although it was already securely fastened. It was just as well. She doubted whether her shaking hands would have managed the task of redoing it.

  Going down, she found, was worse than coming up. The plane dropped rapidly and banked on its side to circle the airport, without a thought for her palpitating heart. Though it was a comforting sight to see the scenery below she didn't like the way they went hurtling towards it.

  Dragging her gaze inside, she stared hard at the seat in front of her. Long after she thought they must come into contact with something they were still dropping... dropping. She flung a look outside again. The ground was rushing up to them. Trees, houses, fields sped by. Then with a terrific roar of the engines, the wheels hit something. It couldn't be good solid earth, could it? She opened her eyes and sure enough they were speeding smoothly along the ground.

  A few minutes later Stephanie folded her magazine and tucked it away as calmly as if her uncle's car had just come to a stop. She checked around for her bits and pieces and helped Carol to unfasten her seat belt. Gray Barrett rose and tossing his paper on to his seat, led the way out.

  Carol let the other two go, then tottered to her feet. She had a job to make her legs carry her to the door. The fresh air on her face made her head spin. Giddily she moved along with everyone else down the steps and across the space to the airport buildings.

  The place was crowded with another plane load which had just come in. Gray Barrett turned to search her out with his impatient frown. With Stephanie he scooped her along ahead of him towards the luggage section. Carol felt her legs trembling beneath her. There was a peculiar hissing noise in her ears. The prolonged excitement of the journey, coupled with the mounting tension she had experienced during the flight, suddenly took its toll on her body.

  Though she tried to walk straight she began to sway. The lights became a brilliant dazzle before her eyes. She groped desperately for somewhere to sit, for somewhere to hide away, but there was no time. There in the vast crowded space with Gray Barrett ushering her along, she fainted clean away.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CAROL, came round to find herself sitting on one of the wooden benches. Stephanie was holding a plastic beaker to her lips. Gray Barrett was hovering near by with his usual scowl. People were hurrying about their business. One or two eyed her with curious sympathetic glanced.

  'Are you feeling better?' Stephanie asked, taking the beaker away.

  'Oh, much!' Carol lied with a washed-out smile. She stood up to show that she was all right, attracting more glances with her white face.

  Testily Gray Barrett said, 'It would help if you could arrange to
have your fainting spells in less public places, Miss Lindley. Do you feel well enough to walk?' Carol nodded and he offered her his arm with, 'You'd better hang on to me.'

  It felt odd walking arm in arm with her irate employer. She was thankful that he didn't go too fast. She was just beginning to feel the strength flowing back into her limbs.

  Stephanie did most of the waiting and watching out for the luggage. When all their pieces had been retrieved from the conveyor belt a porter was called to transfer them to a taxi.

  Carol discovered that they were to cross the lagoon to the Venice Lido by motor launch. When they arrived at the waterside she welcomed the fresh cool breezes on her face;. So many people like them were travelling to the Lido that all was still pandemonium. Luckily for Carol, Stephanie held her arm while Gray Barrett saw to the loading of the luggage. He managed to get a seat where there was plenty of fresh air.

  The water was just like the sea, choppy and bouncy as they started out. But Carol was quickly recovering her vitality, and the realisation that she was actually here in Venice did a lot to put the shine back in her eyes. She didn't dare tax herself by looking too much at the distant sights. It was enough to feel herself being taken speedily along and to watch the spray rising from the boat.

  There was no mistaking the Lido. When it appeared after they had passed several islands, it was like a long narrow strip of land set down across the mouth of the lagoon. One could hear that distant carefree hubbub of the beaches as the launch pulled in at the landing stage. The sharp salty fragrance of the open sea was heavy in one's nostrils.

  Gray Barrett led the way ashore. They were met by a porter from their hotel, a nice surprise as far as Carol was concerned. The luggage was stowed away and they were driven off.

  Along a busy arrow-straight road they passed dozens of hotels, all picturesque with gay sun-blinds, blossom- hanging gardens and outdoor tables.

  The hotel they finally pulled into was a little different. Carol was reminded of the Victoriana of their London hotel when she saw it, although the Albany was like a rich well-to-do relative in comparison. The huge length of its exterior was a mass of delicately carved stonework which decorated the tremendous row of tall arched windows on the ground floor and the balustraded balconies immediately above. The ornate stonework also provided the bases for the smaller grillework balconies of the remaining upper floors.