That night, Dane slept in the spare bedroom, and the next morning, when he looked in, Minta pretended to be asleep; after a moment's hesitation, he went out again. He had an important appointment that day which he couldn't miss, so she knew he had no choice but to leave her on her own. She didn't think he'd bother to come up again, but he did, taking her by surprise and catching her awake.
'Hi.' He smiled and bent to kiss her. 'How are you feeling this morning?'
'Much better, thank you.' Minta tried to avoid his eyes which were studying her face intently.
'Good. What would you like for breakfast?'
'Nothing.' She saw him start to open his mouth in protest and added quickly, 'At least, not right now. I think I'll just laze in bed for a while and get up and make myself something later on.'
'You'll stay in bed all day,' Dane told her firmly. 'Doctor's orders.'
'Oh, but…'
'No buts.' He put a finger against her lips. 'I've arranged for the woman who cleans the office to come on here later this morning. She'll do any cleaning that's necessary and prepare a meal for you. Her name's Senora Rodriguez. And she's agreed to come for the rest of the week. Then it will be Christmas and I'll take the week off and be able to look after you myself. So promise me that you'll rest today. Okay?'
'Okay,' Minta nodded, her voice husky.
'I wish I could stay with you today,' he said, 'but there's no way I can get out of that appointment with the planning department. If I put it off heaven knows when I'll be able to arrange it again. Sorry, darling. But we'll have all Christmas together.' Minta didn't answer, and he lifted a hand to gently stroke her cheek. 'I'm worried about you. I thought you were happy about the baby.'
'I—I am,' Minta muttered.
'Then perhaps it's your father who's on your mind. Have you heard from him?'
'No.' She shook her head.
'Well, maybe now's the time to make it up with him. It's Christmas, after all—and he'd want to know about the baby.' He glanced at his watch. 'But this is hardly the time to discuss it. Think about it and we'll talk tonight. Have a good rest, darling.' He straightened up, tall and extremely handsome in his dark suit, then bent and put a hand on either side of her face. 'And always remember that I love you,' he said earnestly. His lips found hers, gentle yet insistent, provoking a response she didn't want to give. His kiss drove everything else from her mind, her senses reacting of their own volition. Her lips opened under his, returning his embrace with a fierce, utterly desperate passion, her arms going round his neck to cling to him with all her strength.
'Sweetheart!' Dane said hoarsely, when at last she let him go. He took her hand and held the palm against his mouth, kissing it. 'Oh, Minta, I love you so much,' he murmured, so intensely that she hardly heard him. 'Don't worry, you're going to be fine—you and the baby. Oh hell, I wish I didn't have to leave you. But I'll be back as soon as I can. Rest now, darling.' He bent and kissed her on the tip of her nose, her hand still in his. 'Goodbye.'
He looked at her expectantly and she managed to say, 'Goodbye, Dane,' but her hand jerked within his.
His brows drew into a frown and he seemed about to say something else, but then the clock in the hall downstairs began to chime the hour and he gave a reluctant shrug. 'See you this evening.' He raised his hand in salute and turned to run downstairs.
Minta gave a sob of relief, knowing that if he'd stayed any longer, if he'd kissed her again, she wouldn't have been able to hold out, she'd have had to tell him everything. Which could either be the best or the worst thing she ever did; only time would ever tell. But now she would never know because time had run out for her and Dane. And she had been given so little with him before it all went sour.
But now there was no time to dwell on that. She had to hurry. Dane had said that this Senora Rodriguez would be coming later this morning, and she had to be away from here by then. Quickly Minta got up and dressed, then phoned for a taxi while she packed a couple of suitcases with clothes and her most treasured possessions, the while being reminded vividly of the way she had packed to leave her father's house such short months ago. And with what high hopes. But, fortunately, there was no time to wallow in nostalgia. The taxi driver was at the door and she gave him her cases, then there was only one thing left to do. Taking Delia Nelson's letter from her handbag, she propped it up where Dane was sure to see it. No other explanation was necessary. With a last, heartbreaking look at the house where she had known such exquisite happiness, Minta turned and ran to the taxi.
She directed him first to the bank where she closed her account, and then on to the airport, booking a seat on the next plane to England. But instead of taking the plane, she waited until a crowd of incoming passengers flew in and mingled with them, getting another taxi to drive her back into central Las Palmas, and immediately afterwards taking a third taxi to the port, from where she caught the local jet-foil over to the neighbouring island of Tenerife. Dane, she had reasoned, would expect her to go back to England and wouldn't look for her further than the airport. But there was no way she was going to go running back to her father so that he could say, 'I told you so'. She had messed up her own life and somehow she would just have to try and straighten it out. From here on she was on her own.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Christmas bells rang out joyfully across the island and Minta lay in her narrow, uncomfortable bed listening to them, her thoughts far away with the two people in the world that she loved. Would either of them be missing her? she wondered. It would be the first Christmas she had ever spent away from her father. Before they had always been together, either at home or, mostly when she had been younger, at a hotel. Perhaps he was with Maggie now. He might even have married her, if he was lonely. Minta hadn't written to him or even sent him a card, not him or any of her friends and relations, because the postmark would have given her away, but she tried now to send her loving wishes to him, hoping that somehow he would know. And Dane? Would he be thinking of her? If he was it could only be in furious anger, knowing that she had found out and all his plans had been thwarted. He was probably living in fear that his financial backing would now be withdrawn, just when he needed it most, was probably even planning how he could get out with as much as he could and leave others to carry the blame and responsibility, Minta thought cynically.
She was becoming increasingly cold and cynical lately. For three days, after she had found this tiny hotel room in Puerto de la Cruz, she had done nothing but cry, but then she had deliberately buried all emotions, preferring not to feel anything at all than to be always grieving for what was past. So she had covered her blotchy skin with make-up and gone out and got herself a job at a restaurant in one of the main streets of this popular tourist resort. With her qualifications she could have had her pick of places. And she was to start after Christmas, although she would rather have started now so that she had something else to think about other than being alone. Or almost alone. Her hand went to her stomach. If anything happened to the baby she didn't think she'd be able to go on. That was all she had to live for now. The bells rang out again to signal the end of Christmas Mass, and Minta turned her head into the pillow, trying to shut them out.
'Ven are you going to stop saying no and come out vith me?' the young German who prepared the vegetables and salads demanded in his guttural accent.
'When are you going to take no for an answer and stop asking me?' Minta returned with more than a little annoyance in her tone. 'I don't want to go out with you, Klaus.' She lifted a tired hand to push a lock of hair out of her eyes. It was two o'clock in the morning and she was longing to go home and go to bed.
'Vy not? Vy you not like me?' He was tall and fair, typically Teutonic, and had come to Tenerife to improve his Spanish so that he could get a job as a courier.
'I do like you. But I don't want to go out with you— you or anyone,' Minta told him exasperatedly. She finished putting the last of the unused food away, then cleaned down her working surfaces, straighten
ing up with a sigh, her back aching.
'I valk you to your hotel,' Klaus offered, unputdownable.
'No!' She rounded on him fiercely. 'Just leave me alone, will you? Or I'll complain to the manager.'
That, at last, had some effect, and he turned sulkily away, leaving Minta free to change from her overall into a skirt and sweater and walk home alone through the virtually deserted streets. It was late February and the resort was filling up with winter break holiday- makers, gradually building up for the summer, but they were mostly older people and the place quietened down by two. Minta hated to think what it would be like in the summer when the restaurant stayed open even later. It was a fairly modern town in the north of the island, built up, as so many resorts were, from a little fishing village when tourists started to discover it. Now it was mostly hotels and arcades full of souvenir shops, bars and restaurants, catering solely for the tourists, but at least there was the Botanical Garden to walk in and the Lido where she could go to swim and sunbathe on her days off. The beaches were pretty hopeless as they were of black, volcanic pebbles and rock. Not that Minta bothered much; she had suffered from morning sickness in the first few weeks and it had pulled her down, making her want to rest whenever she could. But fortunately she seemed to be over that now.
Reaching her hotel, she said goodnight to the old man reading his paper in the lobby and went up to her room. It was a place frequented by students who had little money and he was used to people coming in late from their jobs. Minta undressed, washed, and climbed into bed, grateful for the exhaustion that sent her almost instantly to sleep, giving her only a few moments to think of Dane, to wonder where he was, and what he was doing. And who with? that cynical voice prompted, more and more often now.
Someone at the hotel had left behind the local English language newspaper. Minta read it over her coffee and croissants the next morning. It dealt mainly with Tenerife, with lots of adverts for the various tourist attractions, but in this edition there was an article about the annual carnival in Las Palmas in Gran Canaria. It lasted for two weeks and ended with a big parade through the streets, finishing up in the square of Parque Santa Catalina where she and Dane had often gone to sit and watch the world go by. She pushed the paper aside, but the advert haunted her. Dane had described the festival to her, telling her how everyone, young and old, dressed up in fancy costume and masks, parading round the town throughout the whole festival, about the rival bands who took it in turns to march round the town every evening, gathering a trail of people behind them. And next weekend she had two days off, two days which coincided with the end of the carnival.
The thought stayed with her all that week. Minta tried to concentrate on her work, which she greatly enjoyed except for the long hours. During the weeks she had been there, the manager had let her change and improve some of the menu and the clientele had already started to increase. They had even started to get some local inhabitants as well as tourists. And she had had a rise in pay which she was carefully saving along with the capital she had brought with her, in the meantime living very frugally, because she was going to need every penny she could get when she was no longer able to work and the baby came along. How she was going to manage then, Minta wasn't sure, but she had an idea for getting her own small flat and doing outside catering for some of the cafes in the town: cakes and pastries, that kind of thing. That way she could look alter the baby at home without having to farm it out to a nursery. But she knew that somehow she would cope, which gave an indication of how she had learnt to stand on her own two feet during the last couple of months.
But there was no use trying to pretend that she didn't miss Dane. He was her first thought on waking and her last at night. She missed him as sorely as a woman misses a husband who has died. More perhaps, because there was always the torment of wondering what he was doing, whether he had gone after her to try and get her hack. Although she didn't think he would, not after he'd seen that letter and talked to Delia Nelson. His mistress. That part of it Minta tried not to think about, because it was the hardest to bear, knowing that Dane was still making love to Delia at the same time as her, when she had thought everything was so perfect between them. But being apart from him was like a physical pain, always there, like a terminal illness from which she would never recover, she thought with bitter irony.
By the end of the week Minta had pushed the idea of the festival right out of her mind, but somehow, when she woke late on the Saturday, she found herself stuffing a toothbrush into her pocket and using some of her precious savings to pay for the jet-foil back to Las Palmas, the big machine, half boat/half plane, rising up on its huge hydrofoils and carrying them skimming over the waves, unbelievably quickly.
There were quite a few people going back on the jet- foil from a day trip to Tenerife and Minta was careful to keep among them when they landed. She headed for the big store, El Corte Ingles, and up to the third floor where the fancy dress costumes were being sold, her eyes continuously on the look-out for anyone who might recognise her. Although it was so late in the festival they still had lots of things on display: masks and wigs, grotesque gloves like monsters' hands as well as clothes. Minta had deliberately worn black slacks, a dark sweater and a loose black jacket, and now she picked out a wig of bright ginger, curly synthetic hair and one of those false shirt fronts that Victorian gentlemen used to wear. The wig made her look quite different and the false front hid her chest so that she looked like a boy. Then she added a doleful clown's mask to hide her face. No one would recognise her now and with any luck no one would even take her for a woman.
It was getting into the evening and already there were lots of people in costume thronging the streets, especially children, so Minta, although she felt ridiculous, wasn't at all out of place. She went first to Dane's office, hurrying past the traffic-laden roads, trying to ignore people who laughed at her costume and a drunk who wanted her to drink with him. But she had listened to the voluble people working in the restaurant kitchens and could tell him to go to hell in Spanish now. When she reached the office building she stood in a doorway opposite, looking up at Dane's window, but it seemed deserted. She waited until it was dusk and when no lights went on, knew that he wasn't there. She hadn't really expected him to be on a Saturday, but there had been just a chance, and it was so much easier to look for him there.
Retracing her steps, Minta walked the couple of miles to the house. It seemed a long way, although she had often walked it before and thought nothing of it, but she was hurrying and had a stitch in her side by the time she got there. She couldn't see any lights on in the upper storey at the front of the house but she couldn't see the ground floor because of the wall. For a quarter of an hour or so she hung around uncertainly, then nerved herself to go and peer through a crack in the gate. There was a light in the sitting-room. He was at home!
Minta stood there numbly, remembering the room and the improvements she had made to it with such loving attention. Was he there alone—or did he have that woman with him? Turning away, she found herself a seat on the low wall of a garden a little way down the road on the opposite side, a place where she could rest and watch the gate of Dane's house. She took off the mask, finding it hot and uncomfortable to wear for any length of time, and settled down to wait again, hoping against hope that he would come out and she would be able to see him.
She waited for almost two hours, gradually growing stiff and cold, glad of her sweater and jacket against the chill breeze in the air. Almost, she had become reconciled to the fact that he was going to stay in that evening and she wouldn't be able to see him after all, but she was quite prepared to go on waiting, all night if need be. But then, at almost nine o'clock, the gate swung open and he came out. Half asleep, Minta nearly missed him, but the clang of the gate—such a familiar sound—brought her back to reality with a jerk. Dane had come out and he was on foot, walking down the road towards her. And he was alone! All along she had been petrified that she would see him with Delia Nelson,
but at least it would have proved that she had been right to leave him.
Hopping over the wall, Minta hid behind a hibiscus bush until he had passed, then put on her mask again and began to follow him, still keeping to the opposite side of the street. He walked quite briskly so that Minta had to hurry to keep him in sight, heading back towards the centre of town where there were more people. As the pavements filled she had to move closer so that she wouldn't lose him in the crowd. It was quite dark now and she could see him outlined against the lights from shop windows and in the glow of the street lamps. Once he stopped at an intersection and, turning to see if there was any traffic coming, caught sight of her behind him. Minta froze, but he merely gave a small, amused smile at her costume and turned to walk on.
Somehow she forced her legs to work again and tottered after him. He reached a restaurant and went inside, glancing over his shoulder as he did so. The place was strange to Minta; she had never been there with him. Was he dining there alone, or was he meeting someone? Sidling up to the window, she peered inside. Dane had been shown to a table not far away and was sitting facing the window. Again he was alone. She went to move away, but then stopped as a waiter came up to him and he looked up, the light falling fully on his face. For a moment he looked like a stranger; his face was thinner than she remembered, with a drawn, haggard look about his features. His mouth was set into a hard line and there was bleakness in his eyes. He looked like a man who was suffering great unhappiness. Surprise held Minta as she stared at him, wondering what could have made him change so much; only the failure of his business, she surmised and wondered how it could have come about. Or maybe Delia Nelson had left him and everything he had done had been in vain.
Some children noticed her clown's face staring in the window, and pointed her out to their parents, making Dane look in her direction. Hastily Minta moved away. It looked as if he would be in the restaurant for some time, so she bought a hamburger from a stall and stood in the darkness of a recessed shop doorway near the restaurant, where she could watch the entrance. A couple of seamen from one of the merchant ships in the port walked by, saw her and stopped to chat her up. Minta tried to ignore them, but they were persistent, crowding her into the doorway and trying to put their hands on her. She was afraid at first, but then it began to dawn on her that they thought she was a boy, so she swiftly made it plain to them that she wasn't, and they roared with laughter and went on their way. But she would have to be careful; they could quite easily have turned nasty.
Dark Awakening Page 14