by Jane Corrie
Her man—the very thought made her jerk herself away from the patio and the soft persuasive beat of the music that was penetrating not only the air but an exposed part of her heart, and shut herself inside the villa, but there was no getting away from the thought. It taunted her as she tried to apply, her mind to more mundane things such as whether she had enough orange juice to cater for two at breakfast should he appear on Sunday night.
After a while she gave up the struggle and gave full rein to her thoughts. Certain things had to be faced, and it came as a surprise to her that she was just as vulnerable as any other woman was when it came to a certain charming man. A man, she reminded herself sharply, who had no aversion to dallying with an attractive woman, but had no intention of committing himself at the altar.
Considering what must have been a sad childhood for him, Cara could well understand his motivation, and in a way it helped her to play her part just as long as she could keep herself from becoming emotionally involved. She felt she owed him that much at least, and not only her, for her father's sake too, since aside from all other issues, her family was in debt to the Morelon family, and this was one way she could repay that debt. To give Pierre credit, he had mentioned no such obligation, though Cara was well aware of it.
The following day Cara made herself keep busy; she wrote several letters, one to Ermyntrude, in
which she reported her work scene, and any other item that might be of interest to her, not forgetting to report on her Uncle Theobald and how he had settled down in his new environment. Ermyntrude, Cara suspected, had a soft spot for her uncle, mainly because there was a likeness between the brothers, and even though the marriage with Cara's father had not worked out, Ermyntrude remained loyal in her affections. This predilection for Uncle Theo-bald was unfortunately not reciprocated by him, for Cara clearly remembered a visit of his to Devon to meet his brother's new wife shortly after they were married. After spending what must have been a harassing ten minutes with Ermyntrude while waiting for his brother to return from visiting a patient, Cara had met him in the hall on his hurried way out to greet his brother whose car was just pulling up in the drive outside the house and had heard his muttered, 'The woman's mad!' as he went to meet his brother, in all probability to commiserate with him!
A small smile played round Cara's soft lips as she recalled the scene. Ermyntrude had been nervous, and a nervous Ermyntrude's conversation would be twice as difficult to follow as her normal dizzy contribution was!
Cara then wrote to Cathy, a much longer letter this time since she had received a nice chatty one from her that gave her all the news at her end. It appeared that she had settled down well at her new job and had no complaints, apart from the fact that there were times when she suspected that the staff were being indoctrinated into accepting the same culinary fare as the inmates, and when you con-
sidered that they were all on a strict calorie diet it was easy for Cara to imagine Cathy's indignation. A little on the plump side, Cathy had always had to watch her weight, but there was a limit, and as she had told Cara, 'There's a lot of me to keep going. It's a good job I hit it off with the cook ! '
Cara answered the letter much in the same vein and gave her a run-down on a typical working day for her, taking care not to mention that her working conditions were not what one might call ideal owing to one member of staff. To bring that up would mean mentioning a few other things and it was a little too complicated for Cara to go into, although Cathy would never forgive her for keeping her in the dark, if and when she ever heard the ins and outs of the business.
It was when Cara came to the scrawled postscript at the bottom of Cathy's letter that said, 'By the way, have you met you know who?' that she had problems. In the end, Cara added a. nondescript message that she had 'seen him around' and left it at that, hoping for Cathy's forgiveness at some future date.
By lunch time there was a coolness in the air that suggested rain, and Cara welcomed the thought. Rainfall in that part of the world came as a welcome diversion from the continually sunny weather, for the fall would be invigorating and not like the damp overcast showers that were all too often experienced at home, and had a nasty habit of turning into a deluge at the very mention of a vicarage fete!
An hour later the shower had come and gone, leaving the greenery brighter and the perfumed air even more pungent than before. Cara settled herself in the patio and tried to wish the hours away until
the evening. As time went by she was getting increasingly nervous, and hated herself for her cowardice. At this rate, she told herself scathingly, she would do a good imitation of Ermyntrude when, and if, Pierre put in an appearance.
At two o'clock she received a phone call, and nearly hinted with relief when she heard Maaua's voice on the other end of the line asking her if she would like to join a beach party, and she consented gladly. The invitation couldn't have come at a better time, she told herself happily. Maaua must have second sight to have come to her rescue so propitiously.
Of course she didn't know how long the beach party would last. Some of them could go on for hours, she knew; as long as the food was there one just hied about and enjoyed oneself. Ought she to provide something in that line? she wondered, then decided Maaua would have said if she was expected to bring something, but she hadn't.
All these thoughts went through her mind as she searched out her swimsuit, changed into it and slipped a cotton blouse and skirt over it to wear down to the harbour where she was meeting Maaua. It was safer thinking about these things than concentrating on others, such as her absence when Pierre arrived, and a sneaking feeling that she was letting him down.
He h td a key, hadn't he? she told herself in an attempt to stifle her conscience, and who was to know that she was not in the villa? She had no neighbours to note her movements, so could come and go without observation, particularly if she took the same route as she took to go to work, through
the covered archway. Not that Pierre would use the same exit or entrance, he would come via the boulevard, leaving his car in the space allotted for trading vans to pull off the road when delivering goods to the busy town centre. The gleaming Mercedes would be instantly recognised by the locals, and well he knew it, she thought with a gulp. That was what he had meant by the news being passed on by the
gossip monsters, and the fact that it was there all night ... She practically raced out of the villa on this thought, and almost forgot to collect a towel, then remembering it at the last moment snatched one up and made for the harbour.
CHAPTER TEN
ALTHOUGH the rain had cooled the air, the pavement stones felt warm under Cara's sandalled feet as she made her way towards the harbour, but she was only vaguely aware of this. Reaction had now set in and she was already regretting her action. After all that calmness she had shown earlier, both in Pierre's presence and in her own later musings, why had she suddely panicked?
Her lovely eyes were clouded with uncertainty as she stared ahead of her, seeing, yet not seeing, the gay panorama going on around her, the family groups, each member carrying some contribution to a picnic on the beach. There were the tourists too, intent on making the most of their short stay on the island, their cameras clicking away happily at anything and everything.
It was this uncertainty that made her keep going; she needed something to do, and above all she needed company. Nearing the harbour she passed a small group of young servicemen and answered their shouted query as to where the best beaches were to be found, and walked on, knowing that they had hoped she would suggest that they followed her, as the towel slung casually over her arm gave ample proof of her destination. She felt mean as she quickened her steps in case any such request should be put to her, but she had no intention of getting lassoed into their party. They would not be short of femi-
nine company for long, Cara knew, for someone would be bound to take pity on them and invite them to join one of the numerous beach parties going on around them.
One neve
r need be lonely here, she mused as her eye caught Maaua's waving hand in the distance. Hospitality was a natural gift among these people of the islands. Outgoing themselves, they could not understand the Westerner's natural inbuilt reserve. The wonderful gift they had of accepting strangers into the family circle was something not even the well-meaning but totally misguided missionaries of the past had failed to eradicate.
'I'm so glad you could come,' Maaua said happily, as she took Cara's arm and led her towards three girls guarding a picnic hamper. 'It's a "ladies only" do,' she grinned. 'We've all got boy-friends who are tied up this afternoon, so we thought we would all get together. That way we can alibi each other,' she added with a chuckle.
Cara smiled back at her; it was an arrangement that suited her perfectly, she had as much cause to watch her step as apparently Maaua and the girls had.
After the introductions had taken place, Cara
learnt that the girls, like Maaua, were nurses, and
worked at the hospital. The chatter was gay as they
made their way past the marina where craft of all
descriptions bobbed alongside one another and the
bright painted colours of the luxury yachts were re-
flected in the clear sparkling water around them.
· Cara took a deep breath of sheer contentment; the
very atmosphere was one of peace yet bustle—and
it would always be so—not just in the summer
months as in England, where in winter the coast lay sleeping in a shroud of mist and those brave enough to risk a walk on the promenade were lashed at by the high waves driven inshore by the fury of the prevailing winds. This, she thought, as her eyes dwelt on the scene before them as they neared the beach of silver sand that stretched for miles along that part of the coast, broken only by the tall king palm trees that gave the impression of standing sentinel against the intrusion of the tropical forest behind them, this was for ever.
Everything else dwindled into nothingness as her eyes caressed the shoreline, where the gentle waves lapped against the gleaming sand in a soothing, loving action. Her look moved on to the skyline where tiny clouds hovered above the brilliant blue, looking like puffs of cotton wool. She drew in a breath of wonder, for she felt herself soaring as though she had wings above the warm sand she stood on, as if she had become one with the island, and at that moment she knew with utter certainty that the island was welcoming her back in its own special way, and she wanted to cry tears of pure joy for the magic of the moment.
A call from Maaua asking her if she thought this was an ideal place for them to settle for their picnic broke Cara's spell, and she gave her attention to the matter.
The spot chosen afforded them room to spread out without infringing themselves on other groups around them, and the girls settled down to sunbathe before going for a swim.
As Cara lay back on her towel and felt the warm rays of the sun seeping through her recumbent body,
she listened idly to the girls making light-hearted conversation on various happenings in the wards during the week. It was part of a world that she knew and understood, and she felt utterly relaxed and content. The earlier prick of conscience that she had felt had evaporated upon learning that each girl had a heavy date that evening with the said boyfriends, and that the party would be breaking up around six o'clock. There would, Cara thought happily, be plenty of time for her to get back to the villa if Pierre should call.
Later, she bathed with the girls in the clear translucent water, and let the heat of the sun complete the drying process afterwards, giving her long blue-black hair a vigorous rub with the towel to remove most of the wetness.
The contents of the hamper were then explored, and the chicken leg Cara sat chewing a few minutes later couldn't have tasted better if it had been served on a silver platter. The soft sweet rolls filled with the hearts of young lettuces, eaten with the chicken, added to the repast. This was followed by a large slice of a heavily fruited cake that put Cara in mind of a Christmas cake, only without the embellishment of marzipan and icing, but just as enjoyable. There was also fruit to round off the sumptuous feast. Large succulent oranges the size of grapefruit, and rosy crisp apples, and lastly coffee, served out of a large flask. As simple as the meal was, it was the most enjoyable one Cara had ever had.
The hours flew by and soon the girls were repacking the hamper. Cara, helping to stack the crockery away, saw with delightful surprise that her tan had returned, for her bare arms compared
o
favourably with the other girls' honey-coloured arms, and she no longer looked out of place amongst the rest of the sun-worshippers sprawled out around them.
Before they separated, Maaua suggested that they do the same again the next time they found themselves deserted, and they were all in accord with this suggestion, but next time Cara asked to be allowed to provide the food as she hadn't contributed anything this time. The girls then went their separate ways to prepare for the evening's entertainment.
Cara rather envied their obvious enthusiasm for the evening ahead of them, and wished she felt the same way, for she was beginning to dread an evening spent in Pierre's company. What, for goodness' sake, would they talk about all evening until it was time for them to retire? Cara quickly thrust this thought to the back of her mind; time enough for that embarrassment when it happened.
It was a few minutes past six when she let herself into the villa, and as the scent of cigar smoke assailed her senses she knew Pierre was there.
So soon, she thought bewilderedly, as she entered the sitting-room to find him sitting in a chair by the window with a sheaf of papers spread out on the floor beside him, one of which he was studying.
For a few moments she stood there waiting for his attention, and when he looked up at her there was something in his expression that made her feel like a little girl caught out in some misdemeanour, mid she resented this. 'I didn't expect you so early,' she said, with a shade of defiance in her voice.
'Evidently not,' he replied dryly, then with slow
deliberation he studied her slight figure, her simple white sleeveless blouse that accentuated her golden tan, and the blue cotton flared skirt with its small waist and the slim brown legs, with feet encased in sandals. His gaze went back to her face again and rested on her blue-black hair now lying loose on her shoulders and he nodded to himself. 'You should have looked like that when you came to my office,' he said slowly, 'I might have recognised my child bride then,' he added amusedly.
Cara felt the colour flood into her cheeks at this extremely provocative remark. He wasn't being exactly helpful in keeping a low profile on the past, was he? 'I'm no longer a child,' she said coldly. 'I've grown up, or perhaps you haven't noticed? And I wish you wouldn't keep referring to that,' she added heatedly. 'It's a little late to joke about it now, isn't it, considering the mess we're in.'
A wicked smile spread across his lean tanned face showing white strong teeth that gleamed, and this further infuriated Cara. He was enjoying himself ! She hadn't been wrong when she had suspected this before. His blue eyes were still twinkling when he answered soberly, 'Are we in a mess? I don't see that the situation is so obnoxious. At least, not to me, and yes, I had noticed,' he added, his eyes now taking on a darker hue as they lingered on her heart-shaped face. 'I have an odd feeling that ...' he left the rest of the sentence in mid-air, but Cara caught the drift of his thoughts and her heart gave a painful lurch. If he was playing with her, she would hate him for eternity. It was all too easy for him she thought bitterly, and wished she could ask him to leave. He was quite able to look after himself, cru-
sading Paula or no—or was that just an excuse? Had the idea of taking up with her appealed to him? She must present quite a change from his past sophisticated lady friends, and her small jaw firmed on the thought.
'I don't play those kind of games,' she said abruptly, once more trapped into revealing her thoughts, and a second later wished the floor
would open up and swallow her.
Pierre placed the documents he had been studying down on the floor beside the others, and got up slowly and came over to where she was standing, never taking his eyes off her for a moment, but Cara, though trembling inside, held her ground and her large brown eyes met his blue probing ones with a steady clear gaze. 'Neither do I,' he said softly, 'and you'd better believe it.'
There had been a firmness in his voice that frightened Cara and she looked away swiftly, not certain what he was referring to; did he still think she had some dark scheme in mind for future use? She moved away from his side quickly. 'What time would you like dinner?' she asked, trying desperately to sound offhand about it.
He chuckled at this abrupt change of conversation, and Cara thought bitterly that she was glad that she amused him. 'We're eating out,' he said casually, 'then we'll put in an appearance at my home. Paula has invited a few guests in for the evening. We shall be expected to be there.'
Cara stared at him incredulously; having to put up with the rumours and Pierre's presence in the villa was one thing, but appearing by his side in
company was another! 'I'm sorry, but I don't think ...' she began faintly.
'Wear that white lacy thing,' he went on calmly, as if she hadn't spoken. 'I liked it.'
'White lacy thing.' Cara's befuddled thoughts were quite unable to grasp what he was talking about; how could he think of things like that—and how dare he tell her what to wear! she thought furiously when she realised that he was referring to the dress she had worn at the cocktail party.
The next moment she found herself swung gently round and given a little push towards the hall. 'I've ordered dinner for seven,' Pierre said firmly, 'so don't take too long over your toilet, will you?'
Apart from locking herself in her room and refusing to come out, there was simply nothing Cara could do about it!
The restaurant that Pierre took her to was quite near his home, and for a short while Cara thought they were actually going there until he turned off the main road and steered the big car down a narrow road off the highway that eventually brought them to a plush establishment nestled against the hills that overlooked the bay.