by Susan Barrie
That night, when she brushed it out — a task she insisted on — she exclaimed in delight at the fineness of its texture, and the silken softness of it.
‘Like moonlight! ’ she said, and watched it ripple about Lisa’s shoulders with charmed eyes. And when her employer mentioned the beauty parlor she snorted. ‘For you, perhaps, senorita
— at your age it is good not to neglect the looks!
— but for the Senorita Waring, no! She has no need of beauty parlors! ’
Nevertheless, since Miss Tracey had made the appointment, Lisa found herself accompanying her next day to an up-to-the-minute salon where a few recognizable improvements were made to the manner in which she wore her hair, and as a result of skilled attention it discovered an extra sheen which even Juanita had to admit had not been there before. And her nails were attended to, and she came away with a whole series of new cosmetics that had been selected to blend with her skin. As for Miss Tracey, she came away with the lavender-blue hair-rinse that she had always secretly wished to see transfiguring her snowy locks, and the first lipstick she had ever possessed in her life.
‘I probably shan’t use it,’ she said; ‘but it will give me confidence just to know it’s there in my handbag, and that I can produce it in a sophisticated way if I feel like it. ’
After that they went shopping, and that night Peter took them both out to dinner wearing entirely new additions to their wardrobes. In Lisa’s case it was oyster-pink net with a series of underskirts that rustled when she moved, and a tiny bodice that made the most of her absurdly slender proportions, and in Miss Tracey’s pearl-grey satin. She had never worn satin in her life before, considering it too opulent for her proportions, Which were decidedly stocky; and when Lisa persuaded her to drape a rich petunia stole about her shoulders she wondered whether she was permitting her emancipation to be too sudden.
A more gradual attempt to acquire something in the nature of elderly glamor might have suited her better, she thought; Lisa was enthusiastic about the results.
‘It’s quite a transformation!’ she declared. And then, afraid that she sounded rude, she added: ‘You could have done this years ago, but you never bothered. You stuck to your tweeds, and you’re not really the type for tweeds. You can be really elegant, dressed to suit your type! ’
Aunt Grizel laughed, as if genuinely amused, and then pinched the cheek of the girl affectionately.
‘Well, we’re in this together, my dear. And you look like the fairy on the Christmas tree in that gauzy thing! I’d never describe you as elegant, but I do think you’re quite enchanting! Wait until the dark Spanish heads start turning round rapidly when you make your appearance
— masculine heads, of course, I mean! ’ She went to her dressing-table and lifted the stopper from a flagon of expensive perfume. ‘You must have a dab of this behind your ears, and in the appropriate places. Maybe it’s a bit heavy, but Madrilenas love heavy perfume, and the girl in that beauty parlor place assured me it was madly provocative — apasionado perfume she called it! ’
But Lisa declined it, thinking she was hardly the type to carry off apasionado perfumes, and Aunt Grizel, replacing the stopper reluctantly, nevertheless agreed with her.
‘Well, perhaps you’re right, We’ll have to get you something a trifle more redolent of violets, or an English rose-garden.’ She did not notice how Lisa stiffened slightly at the mention of rose-gardens, and then looked unconsciously wistful. ‘But don’t forget to wear this,’ picking up a stole of fine black lace, that was the perfect complement to the pink net dress, and draping it about Lisa’s shoulders.
And as they went out together she thought: ‘The girl isn’t merely lovely — she’s like a Dresden-china rose!’ The evening passed off in an unreal and slightly lightheaded fashion for Lisa. Peter quite obviously shared his aunt’s opinion of their young fellow-countrywoman once he had an opportunity to examine her in the lights of the exclusive restaurant to which he took them, and because it was such an exclusive restaurant, without any guitar-playing or clicking of castanets between the courses, Lisa was a little misled about Madrid on that first evening that she dined out in it.
The champagne they consumed — which Peter insisted upon — was of the very highest quality; the food was delicious, and wonderfully served; the rest of the diners looked as elegant as Miss Tracey’s grey satin dress, and the atmosphere was as quiet and orderly as a pool. But it was not the Madrid of the throbbing interludes, the ‘apasionado’ perfumes, the clashing tambourines. There were no whirling skirts, or roses caught up in mantillas, or dark eyes peering seductively over the tops of fans.
‘Another night,’ Peter said, when she mentioned her surprise at finding so much restraint. ‘This is Madrid par excellence! I thought it better to introduce you gradually. Begin at the top, and work downwards! ’ He grinned at her.
She thought, Madrid par excellence — the sort of background against which Gia’s father, and Dona Beatriz, probably moved, when they were in their home city. And suddenly she thought: ‘Supposing they walked in now! ’ But they didn’t walk in, and the dinner pursued its leisurely course. When it was over, and the final liqueur and coffee had been consumed and appreciated, and it seemed very late, they walked part of the way back to Aunt Grizel’s flat because it was such a breathlessly hot and perfect night, and it seemed a sin to take a taxi.
Aunt Grizel drew Lisa’s attention to the stars that seemed to be blazing fitfully down on them through the sensuously warm atmosphere, and she said:
‘There they are! Stars over Madrid!.. . Aren’t they huge?’
Lisa looked up at them. They were wondrous stars, but they were not the stars that peered at their reflections in the indigo waste of waters that washed upon the shores of her beloved San Cecilio— San Cecilio, where she had sat in a little cafe on the waterfront one night, and drunk wine with her present employer. Wine the color of ripe apricots, and as clear as glass
It had gone to her head a little that night, that apricot-colored wine. ... Or else the offer of a position she had never expected had gone to her head! And she had been very unwise to accept. She should have gone home the
following day, and in that way she would have avoided heartache in the future — for the whole of her future!
And even now, after such a pleasant evening, she felt the coldness settling round her heart, the loneliness because here in this impressive capital city of Spain was one man who could easily get on without her for the rest of his life, and very shortly now would pay her a final month’s salary
— with perhaps a little over as a kind of bonus — and tell her her services were no longer required.
She stumbled, and Peter caught hold of her slim, bare elbow, and gripped it rather tightly.
‘Tomorrow,’ he said, in a warm, intimate tone, ‘I’ll have lots more to show you, Lisa. It’s going to be a wonderful week or fortnight! And, I think we ought to make it a fortnight! Fernandez and that odd infant of his can do without you for that length of time! ’
Which was another reason why she suddenly felt as if a knife turned in her heart.
C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N
But the ten days that passed with the rapidity of lightning were undeniably enjoyable days for Lisa.
They began in the same manner each morning, with Juanita bringing her early tea — Miss Tracey was not one of those people who lived abroad and forewent any of the privileges of being a British citizen, and tea-drinking was an ingrained habit with her — and then following it up with a breakfast tray containing orange juice and curls of crisp bacon and toast. After that Miss Tracey made her appearance in a bathrobe, and they talked about all sorts of things, including the plans for that day, and what Peter had decided upon, and what he had decided could be postponed for yet another day.
So far he had taken her on a whirlwind sightseeing tour of Madrid. She had seen the Escorial Palace, and the Royal Palace — El Pardo, a delightful residence enhanced by magnificent woods,
which Velasquez used as a background to his portraits. She had seen the Prado Museum and other museums, churches, fashionable thoroughfares, fountain-decorated avenues. She had sipped iced drinks in gay open-
air cafes, and lunched in impressive restaurants; and at cocktail time, or ‘Vermouth time’, an hour when most other capitals were sitting down to dinner, she and Miss Tracey had been introduced to one or two discreet little bars, where the atmosphere was very fashionable, and very respectable, and they, too, had become part of the background, and it had seemed that such a thing as a dinner hour would never be arrived at.
For dinner was always late in Spain, and time seemed to have no importance whatever. It just drifted by. And after dinner there were the fashionable cabarets; in particular one, where the decor was positively sumptuous, where the famous flamenco songs were sung, and Lisa had her first taste of the sort of thing that charms the tourists, and puts money into the pockets of Madrileno night-club proprietors.
Lisa, like Miss Tracey, felt something like excitement creep over her when she heard the clicking castanets, and saw the billowing dresses and the wildly voluptuous movements of the Andalusian entertainers for the first time. The second time it still thrilled, but not quite so wildly. She much preferred lingering in the fragrant avenues afterwards, on the way home, breathing the first breath of coolness since morning dawned, seeing the yellow glow of a lantern in a silent, dignified courtyard, and hearing the whisper of the plane trees that flanked the just as silent squares.
Then there were still shopping expeditions, and it was a little disturbing how much money she spent, because she declined to allow her very generous hostess to do more than make her a few very generous presents. And that seemed to put her hopelessly in the debt of Miss Tracey, whom she grew to like very much indeed.
Peter she had always liked, and he improved on continuous acquaintance. A year before, when she had met him for the first time in the Hamilton-Tracey house, she would never have believed that one day he would behave towards her as if she had an irresistible attraction for him — and that was another thing that bothered her, because he would never have an irresistible attraction for her.
Only one man would ever have that!
Miss Tracey certainly seemed to have quite a few friends who remained in Madrid. Several of them came to tea, and one particularly charming family with a handsome young son named Ricardo gave a party to celebrate some member of the family’s birthday, and Aunt Grizel and her English guest and her nephew were all three invited.
Aunt Grizel had been right in one of her predictions. Dark, masculine heads did swing round abruptly when Lisa became part of a mixed gathering, and her striking fairness seemed to arouse admiration almost immediately. Ricardo Espinhaco took one look at her and capitulated at once, and throughout the whole of the evening, while the celebrations for the birthday went on, he remained at her side, and even Peter found it well-nigh impossible to dislodge him.
The party was held at one of Madrid’s gayer, but still highly reputable restaurants, and it was a very lavish party, with toasts drunk in champagne, as well as champagne cocktails to get everyone into the right frame of mind. There seemed to be endless uncles and aunts and cousins, as well as guests, and Lisa estimated that the party would cost Papa Espinhaco quite a large sum of money. But money was plainly one thing that didn’t trouble that particular family. The women’s dresses were nothing short of superb, while their dazzling displays of jewellery took her breath away when she first saw them. Even the younger girls sparkled like a display window of a fabulous jeweller’s shop; but they were extremely nice young girls — in fact, the whole family was nice — and Lisa was greatly attracted to them.
It was Ricardo who became a bit of an embarrassment, for his admiration was so unconcealed, and he used every sort of persuasive argument to remain near her throughout the evening.
‘I have not known many English girls, and not one who looked quite like you,’ he told her, his black eyes resting almost caressingly on her fairness. ‘You are like a combination of moonlight and an English spring.... I have been once to England in the springtime, and I know that it is a little like you! ’ He touched her pink net dress, which she was wearing for the occasion. ‘This makes you look like a flower, senorita!’ he told her.
Lisa looked faintly amused, although not being accustomed to these fulsome flatteries she was also a little embarrassed.
‘ Moonlight, and an English spring, and a flower at the same time! ’ she murmured. ‘I must be quite a combination! ’ ‘You are indeed,’’ he assured her, seeking to touch her hand as they sat side by side at the large flower-decked table given over to the party. ‘ You are all things that I have sometimes dreamed about! . . . I must see you, senorita — more of you, I mean! — while you remain in Madrid. You must permit me to escort you sometimes! You will, won’t you?’ he pleaded, his shapely olive fingers reaching more determinedly for her hand, Which, however, she snatched away. ‘Please, senorita!’ he begged.
The lights had just gone up again after a floor show, and some of the enthusiastic younger ones had started to dance on the glistening ballroom floor. It was Peter who came to Lisa’s rescue, leaping quickly to his feet and all but snatching her off her chair and saying briskly:
‘Come on, Lisa, let’s dance!’
As they circled the floor he remarked on an obvious note of displeasure:
‘These Spaniards don’t lose any time, do they? But that young man Ricardo is a fast worker even for a Spaniard! Has he been successful in dating you up yet? I noticed his mama was looking anxious when she was watching the two of you a short while ago! Most of these young men have their futures already planned for them, you know, and no doubt she was sensing difficulty later on
— when the time draws near for Ricardo to settle down! — if he got involved with anyone like you! Not part of the prearranged plan, if you know what I mean. ’
Lisa answered coolly.
‘Senora Espinhaco need have no fears. Her son is perfectly safe where I am concerned. ’
Peter grinned down at her with something sceptical about the grin, nevertheless.
‘ You could be swept off your feet! These Latin types are rather like inflammable matches — the non-safety type. They ignite suddenly, and the rest of the box goes, too! ’
‘I am not in the least likely to go too, ’ Lisa said, frowning at the top of his shoulder because the subject of arranged Spanish marriages was not one she found at all palatable just then. She didn’t want to think of Spanish marriages at all
— certainly not arranged ones! — and the coldblooded manner in which the partners set about things (or permitted their relatives to set about them) made her feel almost angry. She was certain that it would be a marriage of expediency if Dr. Fernandez married Dona Beatriz, and not because he was in love with her, attractive woman though she was.
Why she was so certain of this she couldn’t be sure, but she was sure of it.
When she first caught sight of him and Dona Beatriz, standing between Senor and Senora Espinhaco, within a few feet of their table, she could hardly believe her eyes. The evening had spent itself, and sambas and tangos had followed sambas and tangos, as well as more intricate Cuban dances, and Lisa was feeling a little exhausted, because she had never once been without a partner. She wondered whether exhaustion was causing her to see things that were not actually there when she caught her first glimpse of the doctor. She had seen him several times now in white tie and tails, and she might easily have conjured him up out of sheer concentrated dwelling upon him even when she was with other people, and she hadn’t heard a word of him for days.
For there had been no messages for her, no inquiries, no information as to what was happening to Gia, or when they were to return to the coast. She had written to Gia twice — little, affectionate notes, which had not actually called for any answer — and she had sent her a small present in the shape of a novelty for her dressing-table, but none of these had be
en acknowledged, and she had been feeling concern because of the persistent silence.
But now— and without any doubt he was there in the flesh, and not just a figment of her imagination — her employer, as well as the woman who proposed to marry him, were standing between her own host and hostess, being plainly welcomed by them, although such late additions to the party, and Miss Tracey was in the group, too, looking complacent in her pearl-grey satin, and as her partner led her up to the group Lisa could hear her say:
‘Oh, yes, Lisa is thoroughly enjoying Madrid. Aren’t you, my dear?’ stretching forth a hand to her, as Lisa reached her side. ‘So thoroughly that I don’t believe she’s had a moment to herself the whole of the evening! ’
Her eyes beamed at Lisa with so much satisfaction that Lisa felt it was almost unnatural, but Dr. Fernandez was surveying her without any expression at all on his face. His eyes were slightly narrowed, his mouth and chin rather sternly and ascetically set, in spite of the fact that his hostess had just been gushing all over him, and assuring him that she perfectly understood the reason why he was late. The important
thing was that he had managed to find some time to devote to them — he and Dona Beatriz, and she beamed round on the lovely redhead as if it was very well understood that she had to be included in any transports that were poured out over Dr. Fernandez.
But Dona Beatriz’s eyes were at that moment for Lisa, and Lisa alone — unless it was the oyster-pink net that was billowing round her. Lisa’s slim and creamy neck was encircled by a row of finely graded pearls that belonged to Miss Tracey, and which the latter had insisted on her wearing for the occasion — ‘They’re insured, my dear, so don’t worry too much if disaster overtakes you and you lose them! ’ she had declared —and her hair had been cut rather short, and framed her face in a soft aureole of gold. She looked young and rather touchingly lovely, but poised and in complete command of herself at the same time, and the look she directed at Dona Beatriz was neither subservient nor surprised. In fact, it was for the first time cool and withdrawn.