At last, flicking her glance in that direction, she saw the Spanish pair making to move off. Pretending to be sharing in the volatile conversation which was going on beside her, she held the moment, every nerve in her body straining for a touch on her arm. She waited at such a pitch she convinced herself that she had heard those deep casual tones behind her. But when she turned, just as casually, she found it was an elderly lady who had been asking her if she would reach her some smoked salmon.
Still smiling, Janet obliged, letting her glance wander lightly round the crowd as she did so. She saw with a sudden empty feeling that the spot where Bruce bad been standing was deserted.
After another lightning flick around, her gaze searched him out. He was over on the far side of the terrace now, talking amidst a lively group.
Her heart, which had been flying so high, suddenly lost the use of its wings. She found it difficult to keep the smile on her face. Fortunately, one of the men near the table, noticing that she was on her own, joined her with his drink. She was glad to put on a show of laughing at the jokes he tossed at the rest of the crowd. At least she had the fun around her to cling to while she struggled with the rawness which was a pain inside her.
This ought to be a lesson to her, she told herself. In future she would have to remember to stick strictly to business. As a mere woman she had been content to let her heart rule her head, pushing all thoughts of the fight for the track out of her mind. What a fool she had been to think that Bruce could forget it for one minute t That was why he had chosen to work today to let her see that as a hardhitting fewer he was interested in only one thing, winning his case for his clients. Oh, she knew that he watched her from a distance. But he was letting her see also that that was as faras he was prepared to let it go.
She joined in the laughter going on about her. Thank heavens she had given no sign that she had even noticed him. Mercifully she had kept her feelings to herself, so that now she could carry on an animated conversation with the man beside her as though it was the most important thing in the world to her.
She had no idea how she got through the rest of the afternoon. Perhaps she smiled a little too brightly at times. Perhaps she talked a little too much. Her only concern was in keeping up the gaiety until the party came to an end.
She felt physically weary by the time the first of the cars started to leave. She was bound to stay on with the Scandinavian group she had made friends with, but at last when they drifted across the square she was able to make use of their company to the gate.
She didn't give a backward glance to where Bruce stood with another departing group, though she knew his gaze followed her as she left.
Carefree as ever on the surface, she waved the cars off, then swung lightly over to the house. Even there she wouldn't let herself give in to her aching disappointment. She flung the door wide, and gave Dale a run round the garden after he bad been cooped up all afternoon.
She was in the kitchen filling the kettle when her mother came in, worn out but flushed and full of chat about the party. She unscrewed her tremendous earrings as she gave a detailed account of all the people she had spoken to. She had spent a few pleasant minutes with Mrs. Ford, and it turned out that Lady Whateverhernamewas really a very sweet person ... stopping for breath her mother took off her shoes and letting her stockinged feet spread luxuriously on the cool tiles, she came up to ask,
'Did you have a good time, dear?'
'Fabulous!' Janet lied, lunging for cups and saucers with a brilliant smile.
Her mother gave her a searching look and added, as she unfastened the belt of her dress, 'I didn't see much of Bruce. Did you?'
Janet hunted noisily for teaspoons in the drawer. 'He was around somewhere, I believe.' She tried to sound nonchalant as she turned to the boiling kettle.
Just as she had been, her mother was suffering from the delusion that Bruce had other things on his mind beside the track.
CHAPTER TEN
The tiny beach at the Playa del Mitx was far too crowded now with holidaymakers to think of going there. And yet after the villa party Janet felt a need to get away from the house.
Most days she started out after lunch in cotton slacks and thin blouse, sunhat shading her eyes, and refreshments packed in a picnic bag. On one of her walks she had discovered a path directly opposite the farm track on the other side of the main road, which meandered up the pineclad hill overlooking the house, on the right. It was really a small mountain, but with the pines growing very thickly for shade it was possible to reach the top, taking it in stages. And as the path was well trodden it was obviously a popular walk.
As it was much higher than the village hill the views of the surrounding plain were even more fantastic. At the verytop was a stone monument erected by the villagers, who could say how many scores of year ago?
On the other side of the monument the ground fell sharply away, slicing into a canyon formed by an adjoining hill. If one had a mind to go on, a narrow path, starting between two high rocks, coursed leisurely down to the floor of the canyon and continued on through almond groves and strips of cultivated land. There were caves in the rocks at this side if one lifted one's glance. Some had been made into grottoes and white stone figures looked out over the valley from the openings.
Janet could always find plenty to keep her occupied around these parts, and the unbroken peace, with nothing to disturb the silence but the fleeting song of a bird, or the buzz of an insect, was a soothing influence on her flat spirit was one afternoon when she was crossing the main road on one of these excursions that she ran into Tollo, or rather, he almost ran into her. She had always known that driving left a lot to be desired ever since he had driven her round to the school that day. He was young, and still a little drunk with the power of owning his own car, even though it was little more than a wreck. She had seen him once or twice tearing about the village, but this was the first time she had met him along the main road.
With his big gappy smile, and the flamboyant way he had of swinging the wheel, he screeched to a stop only inches from her trousered legs. Slamming out, he greeted her in that sedate English of his which was totally out of keeping with his rough country look.
'Hello there!'
'Hello, Tollo,' Janet replied laughingly. It was always Impossible not to become infected with this livewire air he radiated.
Itching to be of service, he swaggered beside his car with a proprietorial manner and offered, 'Can I give you a lift into town?'
'No, thanks,' Janet smiled. 'I'm just off for a walk.' To make conversation she asked, 'Are you going to work?'
'Yes,' Tollo nodded, 'just for three hours, and then I shall be finished for the day.'
Janet hesitated for a moment. Come to think of it, it would make a change to go into town. Apart from the weekly shopping visits with her mother she never went there, and three hours was no longer than the time she spent roaming the countryside on her lone walks.
'Does that mean you'll be driving back as soon as you've finished?' she asked thoughtfully.
'But of course '' Tollo nodded, reading her mind. I can take you and bring you back if you like.'
Janet did some quick thinking. She wasn't dressed for town of course. Her old cotton slacks and cheap celanese blouse had been donned strictly to do battle on a rough climb. But they were colourful enough. And who worried on a holiday island?
She had her picnic bag, plus her purse, which she always carried with her in case of emergencies, so there was really no reason why she shouldn't accept Tollo's offer of a ride. Besides, she had an urge to try and beat this flatness inside her, and with sudden recklessness she tossed her head, and said gaily, 'All right, Tollo. You can take me to town.'
With his clumsy flair, the young Spaniard opened the door for her. Wincing at the sight of it, Janet took the lopsided seat that showed most of its flock insides, and settled precariously with her bag on her knee.
She had always considered
the ride on the local bus a hairraising journey, but compared to Tollo's driving it was a mere stroll. They tore round bends and leapt over potholes as though they were competing in some mad race. She noticed as he swung the wheel indolently as though it had no more power in it than a toy pedal car, that they spread themselves all over the road when they took a curve. She shuddered to think what would happen if something should be coming the other way. Fortunately there was never that much traffic about. Only the wealthy brought their cars to the island, so the road for the most part was deserted. Also she consoled herself with the fact that Tollo must have been doing this journey for some time now.
The town was in the throes of siesta time when they arrived. The shops were shut, and the cafes, steeped in a drowsy air, were patronised mainly by the locals. The holidaymakers were probably panting in the heat in their hotels or cooling themselves off on the beaches.
Tollo drove through the narrow streets with care now, for there were whiteshirted traffic policemen about. His place of employment, the Hotel Morocco, was a tall, glossypainted section, sandwiched between a line of similar gay exteriors which ran the length of a small calle just off the treeshaded square. He parked a little way along because the area was full of other vehicles, and with his usual panache invited Janet into the hotel for a drink.
There were a handful of tables on the small terrace shaded by fringed umbrellas, and because she had nothing special to do Janet drifted along with him.
It was pleasant enough sitting watching the sleepy life in the square a few yards away. When she had finished her drink she went in to see Tollo at work.
In his place at the reception desk he was busy sorting out traveller's cheques and currency notes. Though he had changed from his casual country garb, the neat black suit he wore now did nothing to tone down his cheeky grin, which was as blatant as ever.
Janet left her picnic bag with him, taking with her just her purse and her handkerchief, and arranged to meet him at the corner of the calle when he had finished work. She had no idea how she was going to spend the rime. She supposed she might as well do a little sightseeing. She drifted off without much enthusiasm towards the quay.
There she stared at the view of the houses rising steeply across the slope of the hill, and at the sandstone cathedral dominating the skyline. From the quay she wandered to the fishing quarter where there were whitewashed cottages. She saw the walls of the old town, drifted past buildings decorated with frescoes and coloured tiles, and scuffed along the wide Pasco lined with shady trees, plants and flowers. It was thirsty work walking, however, and she was glad to give it up after a while for a seat at a cafe overlooking thequay. She lazed here until it was time to go back and meet Tollo.
With the opening of the shops and the slackening of the heat, the town had become alive with people. When Janet arrived at the treeshaded square the scene had changedcompletely. In contrast to the deserted look of raidafternoon, everything was now noise, gaiety and bustle.
Business men in shirtsleeves were doing deals at cafe tables. Lobsterpink holidaymakers sat over tall drinks, engaged in laughing conversation. Children darted under the trees. There were the cries of the lottery ticket sellers outside the shops, the rumble of traffic, the raised voices of the pavement waiters clashing with the chatter of blackshawled old ladies, bartering for the evening's food. In fact, all the pandemonium of a Spanish square after siesta time.
Janet pushed her way round to the street of the Hotel Morocco, losing quite a few minutes in the crush, so that she arrived a little late. She saw Tollo's car immediately. He had driven it up to the corner facing on to the square in readiness for leaving, and seeing that she wasn't about had probably strolled off for a moment. She looked down the street towards the hotel, but the entrance was crowded with holidaymakers. She decided to wait by the car.
At last she saw Tollo coming along the busy street. He was in the company of several youths of his own age, all perhaps having finished work at the same time. Their laughter was bawdy as they strolled swaggeringly up to the square. On arriving they made loud derogatory remarks about Tollo's old car, all of which he took in good part, smiling with them as they hung around it.
It was while Janet was waiting in their noisy midst for Tollo to bid them goodbye that her heart suddenly spiralled up into her throat.
Her abstracted gaze, roaming the crowds, had come upon a lean tanned figure, briefcase in hand, standing only a couple of streets away, in the square. In his faultlessly tailored summer suit, Bruce was talking to a briefcasecarrying associate. She remembered that the law offices were around here somewhere and that he parked his car along one of these streets. Aware almost at once that his hard blue gaze was fixed on her, she turned quickly away.
What she must look like in old slacks and blouse,tumbling into Tollo's brokendown old car—for he was now holding the door for her—amidst a bunch of rowdy uncouth youths, she didn't dare imagine. But tossing her head and telling herself that what she did with her time was only her own affair, she laughed along with the Spanish boys, and made herself a part of the general air of merriment.
When at last Tollo dragged himself away from his friends, closed her door, and lumbered round into his own seat, Janet didn't give a sideways look at a certain chiselled profile. She made sure that she was chattering gaily to Tollo when the old car trundled off.
As usual her young companion drove erratically through the streets of the town. More than once she thought they would catch it from the traffic authorities for cutting corners and ignoring signs, but with all the other drivers doing much the same and yelling 'Burro!' at one another from their car windows, as one after the other touched bumpers in heavy traffic, Tollo wasn't on his own.
Janet didn't know whether to be relieved or sorry when they headed out into the country on the San Gabrielle highway. It was debatable whether his crazy driving in the town was preferable to the unobstructed speed of the open road.
Lazily flicking the wheel, Tollo was happily giving her a rundown on his afternoon's activities. Not wishing to take his mind off the wheel Janet listened in smiling silence.
They were well out into the country, hurtling along. She didn't know what prompted her to look in the rustmottled mirror just above the windscreen. When she did, she saw a familiar dark polished car following not far behind them.
Her brown eyes smouldered with reckless satisfaction. So Bruce hadn't wasted much time in driving off after them! She had a vague suspicion he had tailed them on their mad jaunt through town and her lips pulled into an amused curl. That must have cost him something in avoiding the dents in his own sleek conveyance!
They tore round the bends. Though they were moving ata wild pace, the dark blue car remained steadily in view in the over head mirror. There was no question of such a powerful model needing to put on speed to keep up with them. It was rather like a sleek panther following effortlessly in the tracks of a bucking, frantic rabbit.
Tollo had no idea of the existence of the other car. of course. It was doubtful whether he had looked in his rear mirror more than half a dozen times during his driving life. Janet left him to his ignorance and pretended not to notice herself. Why should shecare if they were being followed?
She had arranged to be dropped off at the top of the farm road where Tollo had picked her up earlier in the afternoon. They came up to it now and the car slowed down to a stop just past it. Janet didn't get out straight away. She stayed purposely chatting to Tollo until the dark blue car slid up. It turned in slowly and crunched along on its way to the villa.
She pretended to be totally oblivious of its existence, giving all her attention blithely to what Tollo had to say. She learned that he would be working these hours for the next few weeks. Up very early in the morning, back home for a long siesta, and then returning to work for three hours in the afternoon.
Tomorrow I have a day off.' lie rounded off the conversation. 'But the day after I can pick you up at the same time if you
like?'
Janet thought about it. She hadn't found the afternoon in town particularly exciting. Still, it was somewhere different to go, she supposed. And no doubt she would get used to Tollo's atrocious driving in time.
'All right!' she thanked him, laughing. 'Ill wait for you here at the usual time.'
She left him then and watched him tear off impudently on his way, quite happy to be acting as chauffeur for los ingles.
As she went down the farm road she decided it might bebest if she didn't mention the afternoon's events or her plans to her mother. She would only worry if she knew her daughter was careering off to town most afternoons in a decrepit old car.
Picnic bag in hand, passing the villa, Janet saw the dark blue conveyance parked inside the gates. Musing over the hectic ride from town, she noticed with an acid gleam the car's thick coating of dust.
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