Runaway Sister

by Ann Jennings

  From the moment they had started walking up the stairs Samantha knew there was no way she was going to be able to afford to place a bet, so she was quite content to watch the others. Valerie and Dennis had a flutter, but soon gave up.

  “I always make it a rule,” said Dennis, “to set a limit. When I’ve lost that, I just stick to drinking and watching others lose money!”

  Sophie on the other hand seemed wildly extravagant, and Samantha wondered how on earth she could afford it. She and Adam joined forces with an American named Tex, whom they both obviously knew, and the three of them gambled, forming some kind of syndicate. Samantha gave up trying to follow what the rules were and eventually drifted away from the gaming tables.

  Valerie and Dennis were sitting just inside on an elegant chaise longue, but Samantha preferred the cool night air. She wandered away from the main gaming area to the edge of the terrace overlooking the sea. Here it was quieter, the air was fragrant with the perfume from the wild rosemary and thyme bushes that spread down the hillside, forming an aromatic green covering. Samantha stood silent, glass of champagne in her hand, staring out to sea. She could just pick out the lights of some small boats, reflected on the water, probably fishing far out to sea.

  “You’re looking very elegant tonight.” Adam’s voice close by her made her heart lurch alarmingly.

  “Thank you,” she replied, not looking round.

  “We did it again, didn’t we?” said Adam, coming to stand to one side of her so that she was forced to look at him.

  “Did what?” she asked, avoiding his eyes.

  “Quarreled,” said Adam. “I just don’t understand you, Samantha—I’m just beginning to think that I do, then every time you suddenly put up the shutters.”

  “You’ve never understood me,” said Samantha sadly. He would never understand that she just wasn’t capable of flitting from person to person like he seemed to be, content with shallow sexual relationships.

  “You could try to explain to me,” said Adam softly. “I’d like to understand.” She froze as she felt his mouth lightly kiss her bare shoulder.

  “Don’t!” she muttered, drawing angrily away from him.

  “What is it?” he asked. “You treat me as if I were some sort of leper!”

  “It’s not that, it’s just that…” Samantha turned to him and sighed.

  Adam smiled, a dark enigmatic smile that twisted Samantha’s heart painfully in her breast. “You really fit this setting,” he told her. “In that dress you look as if you’ve stepped out from a Greek mosaic, except that you’re a fair-haired beauty instead of a black-haired one.”

  Samantha smiled back at him involuntarily. His flattery was a balm to her spirit, but it didn’t solve anything. She felt a danger from just being near him, afraid that his perception would tell him the truth concerning her riot-torn emotions. She was terrified that he would find out that she found him irresistibly attractive, and tried to cover her conflicting emotions by remarking brusquely, “I expect Sophie is wondering where you’ve got to.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Adam. “She seems to have found a kindred spirit in Tex.”

  “Oh, is that the American you were with?” asked Samantha, desperately trying to keep the conversation centered on anything but herself.

  “Yes, he’s an old friend of Sophie’s, and like her just recently divorced.” Adam looked back over his shoulder towards the gaming tables. “He owns several oil wells, and is being very generous, encouraging Sophie to play for very high stakes.”

  “Don’t you mind?” she couldn’t refrain from asking, curiosity getting the better of her.

  “Mind? Why should I?” asked Adam. “As long as she isn’t losing my money, I don’t mind.”

  Samantha sighed. She felt out of place in such a society, she knew she could never live the promiscuous, self-indulgent life of jet set society. Some of her disapproval must have registered on her face, because Adam laughed and said, “You looked distinctly disapproving!”

  “I suppose I am,” she replied stiffly. “When you see all the money being frittered away here, and think of half of the world’s children starving, it seems all wrong somehow.”

  “Yes, it does,” agreed Adam, “but you can’t put the world to rights all by yourself, you know.”

  “No,” said Samantha, “but then neither do I have to be part of anything I don’t like.”

  “Quite,” he replied. “Now that brings us back to the point of—what do you like?” He slipped an arm casually round her shoulder and smiled at her. His eyes softened as he smiled, and Samantha’s breath caught in her throat at the sheer attractiveness of his infectious smile and she found herself smiling back again.

  “That’s better,” said Adam. “I like it when you smile at me, it makes me feel that perhaps we can be friends after all.”

  Familiar feelings stirred inside her, quickening her senses. His lips were tantalizingly near and coming nearer. Afterwards Samantha wondered whether or not he would have kissed her had they not been interrupted, but she was never to know, for Sophie’s voice had come ringing across the terrace, calling him to her side.

  Samantha felt Adam stiffen at the sound of his name, and he dropped his arm from her shoulders and looked over to where Sophie and Tex were standing.

  “Come on, darling,” called Sophie, “Tex has had a splendid idea and we want you to be in on it.”

  “Coming?” Adam asked Samantha.

  “No, thanks,” she said. “I’m quite happy standing here just watching. You go.” She knew he would anyway; Sophie’s call was not to be ignored. She watched him walk over to join Sophie and Tex, then the three of them left the terrace and walked back into the palace where there were many other gaming tables inside. Samantha smiled wryly. Which game it was didn’t really matter, it was just a matter of losing money in a different way, she thought cynically, as she walked over to join Dennis and Valerie.

  Valerie was feeling tired, and Samantha was worried to see that she looked rather pale with dark circles under her eyes.

  “I think you ought to leave now,” she told her, “and I’m coming with you.”

  “Yes,” agreed Valerie wearily, “I think perhaps I have overdone it a little.”

  “I’ll go and speak to Sophie and Adam,” said Dennis, “and let them know we’re going.” He returned a few minutes later with the news that they would make their own way back, either by taxi or with Tex.

  Samantha was rather surprised that Adam had not shown a little more concern for his sister’s welfare. It was unlike him, especially as he was an obstetrician. She had been rather hoping he would cast a professional eye over Valerie.

  “Did you tell Adam that Valerie wasn’t well?” she asked.

  “Certainly not,” said Dennis. “Valerie would have killed me, wouldn’t you?” he asked, turning to his wife.

  Valerie laughed, “Yes, I would. Don’t worry, Samantha, I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

  Nevertheless Samantha was worried. Valerie had been so well, it was unlike her to become suddenly tired. She had, after all, had a good rest in the afternoon, and usually she had to be persuaded to retire at a reasonable hour, because she was more than happy to sit up into the wee small hours of the morning chatting away.

  When they reached the villa, Samantha suggested firmly, in such a way that she could not be resisted, that Valerie go to her room and that before she settled for the night Samantha would check her over.

  Valerie smiled. “My goodness, your professional training shows,” she said. “You haven’t actually ordered me to do anything, but I daren’t refuse you!”

  Samantha checked her very carefully. She was thirty-four weeks pregnant and from an abdominal examination everything seemed normal; perhaps the baby was lying a little lower than one would expect, she thought, but nothing to worry about. The fetal heart w
as strong.

  “You’re getting plenty of movement from the baby?” she asked Valerie as her gentle hands probed the soft flesh of Valerie’s abdomen.

  “I should say!” answered Valerie. “That’s probably why I’m feeling a bit off color, he’s been kicking like hell all day today.”

  Samantha raised her eyebrows and smiled. “I do wish you and Dennis would give consideration to the fact that it might be a girl,” she said.

  Valerie laughed. “I do really, it’s just that we always refer to the baby as he—you know how it is.”

  “Mm” was all Samantha murmured as she palpated Valerie’s legs looking for any sign of edema. There was none. All that remained now was to take her blood pressure, and if that was normal she would be happy.

  Placing the cuff around Valerie’s arm, she inflated it and putting the stethoscope in her ears listened anxiously for the familiar, far distant sound of the blood surging through the artery and then the rebound sound of the diastolic pressure. It was high, a hundred and forty over a hundred.

  “Everything OK?” asked Valerie.

  “Perfect,” Samantha lied with professional ease as she noted the blood pressure on the record chart she kept. “Nothing at all for you to worry about.” But everything for me to worry about, she thought, wishing Adam were there.

  After she said good night to Valerie she pondered over the blood pressure problem. Should she mention it to Dennis or not? Eventually she decided that discretion was the better part of valor; there was no point in worrying him at that moment, and there was nothing she could do about it then. She decided to wait until Adam returned and have a word with him.

  She sat up in her room waiting for Adam and Sophie to return, but hour after hour went by and still they had not arrived. The more she thought about Valerie, the more worried she became, and her thoughts began to dwell on all the horrific possibilities it could indicate.

  Stories she had heard of nephritic toxemia, acute yellow atrophy of the liver, and her own experience of eclampsia, raced through her mind. Crossly she gave herself a mental shake; she certainly wasn’t behaving professionally now. Valerie had no symptoms of toxemia, and apart from her blood pressure, everything appeared normal. But that’s the point, the nagging voice at the back of her brain kept repeating, what is it you’ve missed?

  By now it was so late, and Samantha was so tired, she lay on the bed fully dressed, her window open, thinking she would hear the car when it drew up. But she didn’t, she fell into a deep sleep instead and heard nothing.

  In her sleep she dreamed that Valerie had her baby prematurely and that everything went wrong. She was alone in the house with her, she couldn’t get the local doctor to help, Valerie was hemorrhaging and the baby wasn’t breathing. Restlessly she tossed and turned, a feeling of panic welling up inside her, perspiration pouring from her brow. She couldn’t cope, everything was out of control, and it was all her fault.

  Abruptly she sat up in bed, perspiration pouring from her brow. She was still fully clothed, of course, in her evening dress, but it was broad daylight and the sun was pouring in through her open window straight onto her. That was the reason she was drenched in perspiration. Samantha shook her head in puzzlement. The sun was so hot, it was strange for early morning. She looked at her watch—it had stopped. Damn, she thought, damn, damn, damn, I forgot to wind it last night! She had no idea what the time really was, but she felt uncomfortably sure it was much later than early morning.

  Then the frightful truth struck her. Adam was catching the first plane out, and if she didn’t hurry she would miss him. Without waiting to shower or change she hurried downstairs, still in her evening dress of the night before.

  Maria, the maid who came in daily, looked startled at the unprepossessing sight of a disheveled Samantha running down the stairs.

  “Where is Adam—I mean Mr. Shaw?” demanded Samantha.

  “He gone,” said the girl in her broken English.

  “Oh God!” muttered Samantha under her breath. Not only had she overslept, she hadn’t heard him come in. She cursed herself for ever lying down on the bed; she should have waited downstairs in the chair. But it was too late now, she would have to use her knowledge and her training and cope on her own. If she felt Valerie needed it she would insist she was flown to Athens, although she knew Dennis would be dead against such a move.

  She went back to her room, relieved that Dennis and Valerie hadn’t seen her in a panic. The last thing she wanted to do was to worry them. She decided she would check Valerie over again later in the day, and then decide what to do. If necessary, she consoled herself, she could always ring Adam in England and ask his advice. Although she knew from past experience of trying to ring her friends from Corfu that the telephone service from the island to England left much to be desired.

  Slowly she showered and put on a cool summer dress, then went downstairs to where Valerie was sitting with her feet up in the shade. Samantha was pleased to see that she looked a better color than she had the night before.

  “How do you feel?” she asked, trying hard to keep any hint of anxiety out of her voice. Casually she took Valerie’s wrist and checked her pulse.

  “Oh, Samantha, you do fuss,” complained Valerie. “I feel fine now, absolutely fine. I’m sorry you missed Adam and Sophie,” she added. “We did send Maria up to knock on your door, but she said you didn’t answer.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry I missed Adam,” said Samantha. Little did Valerie know how sorry, but still, no use worrying over something she could do nothing about, she told herself. It was up to her to make sure everything went well—after all, that was what she had been employed for. So far the job had been more like a holiday than a job to be taken seriously, but suddenly the implications of what it would be like if she was totally alone without help in a difficult situation hit Samantha. She had coped with difficult situations many times before, but it had always been with the comfortable knowledge that she could call for and get help quickly whenever she needed it. This time, help would not be forthcoming quickly, if at all, she thought, remembering how casual the one doctor she had met had been. He operated a one-man practice and his wife acted as receptionist, taking all the messages. The main problem seemed to be that he never told her where he was going, and communications were not good at the best of times.

  Resolutely, however, Samantha put all these disturbing thoughts from her mind as she sat down to lunch with Dennis and Valerie. She was pleased to see that Valerie’s appetite was good, and pointedly moved the orange juice over towards her and removed the wine bottle.

  Valerie wrinkled her nose. “Are you saying I can’t have any?” she asked.

  “Well, I do think now that your pregnancy is this advanced, it would be a good idea to cut it down very drastically—even cut it out altogether.”

  Valerie made a face. “Well, if you say so,” she said. “You know I’ll do as you say.”

  “I do think it would be best for you and the baby,” said Samantha. “The last thing we want is for you to put on any excess weight now, during the last few weeks.” She smiled encouragingly at Valerie. “Apart from anything else, you want your slim figure to come back as soon as possible, don’t you?” She knew that by appealing to Valerie’s vanity she would have more likelihood of persuading her.

  “OK, you win,” said Valerie in a resigned tone of voice. “I shall just have to suffer and watch you and Dennis drinking!”

  Dennis offered to give up wine too, but Valerie hooted with laughter at the thought of such a ridiculous notion. “Just because I’m pregnant, there’s no need for you to suffer,” she told him. “Anyway, you’ve had wine with your meals all your life, I can’t see you abstaining for very long.”

  “It would be an effort,” admitted Dennis, “but I will if you want me to.”

  “Certainly not,” answered Valerie positively. “I’ve only got another few week
s to go anyway, and it’s not that important.”

  Samantha was pleased that she had persuaded Valerie to give up wine so easily, but wondered with misgivings whether or not she should not have insisted on it before. But common sense told her that Valerie had not gained any excessive weight, and she certainly didn’t drink a great deal, just a glass of wine with her meals. Stop getting jittery about nothing, she told herself firmly.

  That afternoon Valerie went for her usual rest and Samantha went swimming in the cove alone. The last time I was here I pushed Adam off the jetty, she reflected, now able to look back on the incident with some amusement. She recalled his face as he had surfaced, coughing and spluttering, his expression surprised and angry.

  She wondered when Adam would reach the hospital in England, and realized with some consternation that she didn’t have his home telephone number. She couldn’t ask Valerie or Dennis for it, because they would be sure to wonder why she wanted to speak to Adam. That was another problem she hadn’t considered before—how on earth was she going to be able to speak to Adam without them knowing?

  Meditating over this problem, she lazily paddled her way through the clear blue water, enjoying the soothing effect of the warm salty sea. It was as she was swimming back to the jetty that she resolved to make some excuse to go into Corfu Town that evening. She would examine Valerie, make a note of her condition, and then go to a café in the town, use the phone and talk to Adam. Once she had decided on positive action she felt much more cheerful, and enjoyed the rest of her afternoon on the beach.

  Chapter Nine

  That evening Samantha examined Valerie as she had planned, and to her relief the blood pressure had come down to a healthy hundred and thirty over ninety. Even so Samantha still resolved to go into Corfu Town and telephone Adam, for reassurance as much as anything else. She told a white lie to Dennis and Valerie and said she wanted to go shopping and would they mind very much if she ate out in Corfu while she was there. They thought nothing strange in that, as the shops didn’t open again anyway until six in the evening.