by Maggie Brown
She jerked her arm away, more of a reflex action than a conscious thought. “Nothing. I’ll have the meal ready in half an hour.”
“Look at me, please Sophie,” Eleanor said.
With reluctance, Sophie turned. A very stern Eleanor faced her, her mouth pressed in a grim line, her eyes bright with anger. “What did she say to you?”
“You ask her. She’s your friend.”
“I’m asking you.”
“It was nothing. She was just being protective of you.” Sophie added with an underlying tone of reproach, “She judged me without even getting to know me.”
“I’ll have a talk to her. She’s a guest in my house and will behave properly.” The words were spoken to her, but Sophie had the idea that Eleanor had directed the statement at herself. It would seem Carol knew how to press Eleanor’s buttons.
When lunch was ready, Sophie had no idea if she should join them at the table. Eleanor solved the problem. She smiled sweetly at her and said, “Aren’t you going to join us? You know I like you to eat with me.”
Sophie cleared her throat as she glanced nervously at Carol. The agent didn’t look pleased, but she ignored her when she sat down. The conversation during lunch was mostly about people she didn’t know, which suited Sophie. She was content to study how the women interacted. On the surface, they seemed the best of friends. Carol was the more dogmatic of the two, but Eleanor could hold her own if she didn’t agree. After a while, it became apparent Carol was more than just fond of Eleanor. Hence, Sophie reasoned, her hostility.
Although she disliked the woman, Sophie had to concede Carol was striking. Not cute-pretty, for there was no softness in her angular features. In fact, her cheekbones were so pronounced there were hollows underneath. But she had an aristocratic grace that deserved a second look, and like a marble statue, there was nothing out of place from the top of her perfectly coiffured hair to the tip of her designer sandals.
Before long, though, Sophie’s peace was at an end. The sharp eyes turned in her direction. “So, Ms. Ryan. How long have you been doing domestic duties? I trust Eleanor isn’t your first client?”
“Quite a while. I’ve worked for many people.”
“Who did…?”
“Carol,” ordered Eleanor. “That’s none of your business. Now come with me for a tour of the island. Have we got enough seafood for tonight, Sophie?”
“Will you pick me up three lobsters and some prawns? I’ll ring Lisa to have them ready.”
“No problem. Tell her we’ll stop for a drink at the bar. Pop a couple of bottles of that nice pink champagne on ice.” She reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s time we let our hair down again.” As she watched them drive down the hill, Sophie rubbed her hand where it had been touched. She smiled. Carol’s visit had done some good already. Eleanor was back to touching her again.
After she cleaned up the kitchen, she went to her room. A free afternoon shouldn’t be wasted. Her project hadn’t even been started. Thankfully, even though the island had no mobile coverage, Internet was available via satellite. She flipped up the computer lid, flexed her fingers and ran the tips over the black plastic keys. Damn they felt good. She hadn’t realized how much she missed this. First things first though—research was needed. She typed in Eleanor Godwin, chose “Images” and started scrolling. She flicked through them, searching for someone next to Eleanor who looked remotely like herself.
After a while, she gave up. It was a needle in a haystack. She had to narrow down when and where they had been together, otherwise she wouldn’t have a hope of finding the mysterious Maria. Eleanor was too deeply closeted to be indiscreet enough to be seen with her in public. And if the woman was someone important, which Sophie sensed she was, it was certain she had been extra careful. No, this wasn’t going to be easy.
She jammed that idea away for the time being and set up a profile on Eleanor. She worked quickly for most of the afternoon, tapping away nonstop, letting her creativity soar. The words flowed as the images appeared like a newsreel in her mind. She didn’t stop and it soon became more than just a profile. The text morphed into a substantial article. Finally, she settled back to read it.
Two paragraphs in, her eyes began to falter. Crap! It was sentimental tripe, straight out of a second-rate romance. Perhaps she should take up novel writing after all. When had she ever used terms like seductive, bewitching, breathtaking, angel-awesome. Cripes, she’d even described the island as having undulating soft hills and a beach nestled in the bosom of Athena. With an anguished groan, she imagined it on Owen’s desk. He’d have a pink fit. Then she visualized Brie reading it. That was enough to make her cringe.
She deleted the lot with a stab and closed the laptop. With a sigh, she searched her wardrobe for something nicer than usual to wear at dinner. It wouldn’t do for the bitchy agent to think she didn’t have anything decent. Once the outfit was chosen, she headed to the shower.
When she heard voices in the lounge room an hour later, she found the two women with glasses of champagne in their hands. With a welcoming smile, Eleanor waved at the bottle in the ice bucket. “Have a drink before you start dinner.” She patted the space next to her on the sofa. “Sit next to me.”
Conscious that Carol wore a frosty glare on the single chair opposite, Sophie filled up a glass. “Okay. Just one, otherwise you won’t get dinner.”
Eleanor leaned close. “I left the seafood in the esky on ice.”
“How did you enjoy the afternoon?”
“Carol was impressed. She was sorry she hadn’t decided to stay longer.”
“What a shame, Carol,” murmured Sophie. They looked at each other directly for the first time. Sophie maintained her locked gaze as she took a sip.
“It is indeed a spectacular place. I know now why Ellie raves about it.”
Eleanor draped her arm over the leather back of the chair, and dangled her fingers to fiddle with the material on Sophie’s shoulder. Carol frowned. When her drink was finished, Sophie rose, at loss to understand why Eleanor was starting to touch her so much. It was certainly pissing off Carol. Dinner was a subdued affair, and after she cleaned up, Sophie excused herself for the night. The disappointed look on Eleanor’s face nearly changed her mind, but after the not-so-fruitful-stint at writing, she was genuinely tired.
* * *
The morning was bright and sunny, perfect for a swim. Even Carol had been chirpy at breakfast, claiming the fresh air had made her sleep like a baby. When Eleanor suggested they adjourn to the pool, she enthusiastically agreed. Sophie tried to cry off, but Eleanor insisted she join them. Reluctantly she consented, not missing the look of intense dislike Carol shot her way.
Donned in her bikini, she joined the others poolside. It took only one glance to see that Carol’s classy swimsuit came straight out of the box. She looked like a model posing as a beach babe, a very expensive one. Sophie peered at her, intrigued. What kind of woman wore diamond studs in her ears when she was swimming?
Carol turned to regard her. Her radiating antagonism hung thickly in the air. At least though, thought Sophie, they had graduated to first names.
Eleanor nudged her. “Race you to the waterfall.”
Sophie, needing no second urging, dived in immediately. It was their usual challenge, and she was yet to beat Eleanor. Though she had a head start this time, she was still no match for the star. After halfway, she was left in her wake. Carol, by far the worst swimmer of the trio, certainly didn’t look happy as they frolicked in the water. After a few well-placed barbs, she retired to a deckchair to sunbake. When they finally emerged from the pool, she had disappeared inside the house.
With the towel draped over her shoulders, Eleanor squeezed water out of her hair. “I’m going up to change. Meet you on the sundeck.”
“Okay. I’ll dress and make some coffee.”
Sophie watched her depart through the back door before she made her way down the outside passageway to her room. Halfway down, with a rustling
of leaves, Carol stepped out from behind a bushy hibiscus. Biting back a startled cry, Sophie said sharply. “Damn it, Carol, don’t creep up on me like that. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“What a pity I didn’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want to talk to you in private.”
“Okay. Eleanor’s upstairs, so say your piece. You’ve been spoiling for an argument all morning.”
“You bet I have. I told you I thought you were taking advantage of Eleanor. Your performance in the pool proved me right. You seem to be forgetting your place.”
“That’s rubbish. We have become good friends. We’re always in the pool.”
Carol moved closer until they were only a foot apart before she lowered her voice to a cold whisper. “We’re both women of the world, so don’t take me for a fool. You’ve been waggling that cute little bottom and those big tits in front of her nonstop. Now I’m warning you to back off. Eleanor and I have an understanding. She’ll be my lover when she comes home to LA. You, my little housemaid, are merely a pleasant diversion to keep her amused, no doubt in bed as well.”
Sophie stepped back as hatred roiled in her stomach. “Up yours,” she snapped. Without another word, she hurried to her room, aware if she stayed, she would have spat in the woman’s face. Slamming the door on her way in gave a small measure of satisfaction, but Eleanor upset her more. How on earth could she be a lover of that bitch? One thing was certain—Sophie couldn’t stay in the house another minute with Carol in it.
After she dressed, she put clothes and toiletries in her small backpack, then stowed it in the corner of the hall before she made her way to kitchen. Soon after she took out the tray of scones and jam to the terrace table, she heard footsteps on the stairs. She recognized the tread.
With some degree of control, Sophie turned to face her. “I’d like to take three days off, Eleanor. Lisa has offered me a bed anytime and Doug has an open invitation to go out with him on the boat. I’ll leave immediately, if that’s okay with you.”
Surprise, followed by shock, flitted across the Eleanor’s face. “You want to go now?”
“Yes. I haven’t had any days off since I arrived.”
“I…I was hoping you’d help me entertain Carol.”
Sophie had to grit her teeth to hold back the snort. “She’ll be delighted I’m gone.”
A hiss escaped from Eleanor. “Has she said something to upset you again?”
“Enough to let me know…” she began furiously then bit her tongue. “I got the message she doesn’t like me.”
Visibly upset, Eleanor clasped her arm tightly. “What did she say, Sophie?”
“I don’t want to repeat it.”
“Was it about your work? You’re my employee, so that has nothing to do with her. She doesn’t have the right to order you around.”
“She resents me here. You know that,” said Sophie.
“Our friendship has nothing to do with her.”
“She doesn’t think that way. It’d be better if you two spend the time together without me.”
“I can’t refuse your request…you’re well overdue for time off, but I’d like you to stay. Would you reconsider?”
Sophie shook her head stubbornly.
“If you’re determined to go, I won’t ask again,” said Eleanor with an edge to her voice. “Take two days off. Be back to prepare the evening meal on Thursday. She’s due to fly out Friday after lunch. If you wait until after I have morning tea, I’ll drive you down.”
“I’ll walk down. It’ll be good to stretch my legs.”
Chapter Seventeen
Doug was loading gear into the fishing boat when Sophie arrived at the wharf the next morning. She had enjoyed yesterday with Giovanni and Lisa in the kitchen. A former chef in Milan, the Italian was a first-class cook and it had been a joy to watch him work. Made her feel right at home. That night, Marcello the waiter had entered the kitchen with the news that Eleanor and Carol were in the dining room. Anguish stabbed through her at this announcement, but she refrained from peeking through the door. She hoped they hadn’t gone on to the cocktail lounge afterward, but didn’t ask. It would have hurt too much to know they did.
When they finally finished cleaning up the kitchen, she had bunked down on the sofa bed in Lisa’s unit, too tired to dwell on the events at the villa. Whether Eleanor would welcome her back with open arms was debatable. From her expression, she had been angry at Sophie’s decision to leave.
Doug gave her a wave as she approached. “Glad to have you aboard,” he said with a wheezing cough.
“Thanks for letting me crew for you.”
“Hell…it’s my gain. Put your backpack in the cabin and we’ll get going.”
The ceiling in the cabin was swathed in fishing equipment, which made it clear this boat wasn’t used to take guests out. The interior space was reminiscent of a World War II bomber, every available space was taken, with barely room for the three bunks. Sophie tucked her pack under the right bunk before she went outside to help get the vessel ready to sail. It was a small trawler, outfitted solely for fishing, with no luxuries. Two dinghies were tied securely to the stern, which Doug explained they would use to get over to the reef for the best fishing. Nets were useless on top of the coral.
By the time they reached his favourite spot and anchored away from the fragile reef, it was past eleven. As the day wore on, Sophie could see that nothing about the job seemed to faze Doug. His well-rounded, hunched body worked tirelessly as they hauled in, filleted, and stowed the fish on ice in the refrigerated hold. Finally, by late afternoon, they had their quota.
After Doug stripped off his gloves and apron, he reached inside the cooler. “Want a beer before we head back?”
“You bet,” said Sophie. It had been fun, but she was pleased to finish. Her shoulders ached from constantly pulling in the lines, and her hands stung, for even though she’d worn sturdy gloves, the saltwater still penetrated every crack.
He twisted the top off the stubby bottle and said wistfully, “Eleanor’s a great lady, isn’t she?”
“You were quite taken with her, weren’t you, old fella?”
“Bloody oath. You’d have to be dead if you weren’t.”
Sophie flopped down into the dilapidated deck chair, which protested with a creak. “I reckon.”
“I imagine she’s good to work for.”
“Yep…the best,” muttered Sophie.
“Yeah. There aren’t many as nice as her around.” He took a large swallow of beer then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “And I’ve seen a lot of the so-called upper class.”
Sophie dragged her gaze away from the ocean to eye Doug. “Many politicians come here?”
“A few. A couple came last year for some R and R, but mostly we get celebrities and business people. Usually the guests want to get away for some peace and quiet.” He chuckled. “Though it’s a good place to bring the girlfriend so the wife doesn’t find out.”
“I bet. It’s super isolated here. Another world really.”
“It’s not for everyone, but I like it.”
“Have you been here long?”
“Five years. When my wife died, I figured I’d had enough of city living.”
“Any children?”
Doug shrugged in a noncommittal way. “One son. He’s backpacking in South America. I haven’t seen him for a year, but no doubt he’ll be back when he needs more money.”
Sophie looked at him in sympathy, thinking how hard it must be not having a family network to rely on. A rush of nostalgia coursed through her—she had never known what it was like not to belong to people. Her family might be irritating sometimes, but she couldn’t visualize life without them. She leaned over to touch his arm. “It’ll be different when he settles down.”
“I hope—”
Suddenly a distress signal blared out from the VHF radio. “Mayday. Mayday. Mayday.” They exchanged concerned glances. Sophie watched Doug c
losely as he lumbered to his feet to make his way into the wheelhouse.
After a few minutes, he poked his head out. “Come on up.” He pointed to the blinking light on the radar screen. “There’s a small yacht in trouble about twenty kilometres away. They’re taking on water and the bilge pumps aren’t coping. I’ve replied we’re on our way as it seems we’re the only boat within reach.”
“How long before we get to them?”
“Our best cruising speed is eight knots, so we should sight them in about an hour and a quarter. Put your lifejacket on…we don’t know what we’ll have to do when we get there and it’ll be nearly dark by the time we arrive.” He looked at the sky with a grimace. A line of purple clouds hung on the horizon. “We’ll have to hurry. There’s also a warning out for all boats in the area that a storm is due around ten tonight. I thought we’d be anchored at home well before it hit.”
As they powered through the water, communication with the vessel was sketchy, the static too bad to get the full extent of the damage. After motoring at full steam for just over the hour, Doug pointed toward to the north. “There she is.”
Sophie squinted into the almost dark sky. Faint lights twinkled in the distance.
“We’d better get the latest weather report,” he said. After listening intently for a minute, he yanked off the headphones. “Damn. It’s not good. The storm’s a nasty one and we’re right in its path now. We’ll have to hurry.”
As they neared the yacht, Doug said, “They’re listing badly to starboard, and very low in the water. Not much time.”
Two figures were standing on the deck of the compact yacht. When Doug eased back the throttle, the engines whined loudly as the trawler chugged to a stop upwind on the port side.
“Ahoy there,” he called out. “Throw us a line.”
After a rope snaked onto their deck, Sophie hauled the boats together and secured the rope to a cleat. “You want me to go aboard?” she asked.
Doug’s bloodshot gaze swept down to meet hers. “I’ll go. They may be hurt and need help. You take the wheel.”