She crossed the bridge over the small river and parked the car in front of one of the large hotels, then walked back towards the beach. To both sides the headlands curved protectively, but to her right a small spur of rock protruded into the waters of the bay, and from where she stood Pippa could see through an archway to the headland beyond.
There were children playing with inflatable dingies on the beach to the left, but Pippa craved solitude so she began walking the other way. She discovered some steps leading onto the spur of rock, where there was a small, but at present closed café, and she walked through to the further side of what was in effect a short tunnel.
To her disappointment there was no way to reach the river mouth the far side, just a railing at the top of a steep cliff. For some time she stood there, gazing down at the water which was blue and green and brown all at the same time. The cliffs, a pale sandy colour, stretched in thin layers towards the narrow entrance to the bay, topped with a few trees which were permanently bent over by the west winds.
Pippa turned to go and had just emerged from the far side of the tunnel when David appeared in front of her.
*
'I thought it was you!' he exclaimed triumphantly. 'I was on my hotel balcony and saw you park, but by the time I got down to the beach you had disappeared. Are you alone?'
'Yes, I borrowed Gene's car. I've heard so much about this bay,' she said hurriedly, not wishing him to think she had come with the intention of seeking him out.
'It's beautiful,' he enthused. 'Come and have a drink with me, unless you want to walk through the woods.'
'A drink would be fine, thanks. I'm not feeling especially energetic,' Pippa replied.
'There's a bar on the road out of the bay, it's not far. Let's cut across the beach.'
They walked companionably side by side, and David talked enthusiastically of the work he had already done.
'It is a fantastic place, there are literally hundreds of prehistoric sites, most of them in the middle of fields, humps of stones that the farmers just avoid. What did you think of the Torre d'en Gaumes?'
'I was surprised it was so open, so lonely,' Pippa replied.
'One can't imagine Stonehenge like that,' David agreed. 'But Avebury, and some of the other sites, are just the same even in England. Will you be going back there when your job here finishes?'
'I don't know. I ought to be thinking of going home then, I suppose. I've been away for six months already since I finished college, and if this job lasts six months my parents will be pressing me to return. They weren't too happy at the idea in the first place and would have stopped me if they could.'
He chatted easily, telling her about his own life and his photography, and she responded by relating some stories about her college life. He was surprisingly easy to talk to and the time passed remarkably quickly. When he suggested she stayed for dinner she agreed readily.
It was a pleasant meal, unexciting but good food and wine, and the only moment of embarrassment was when David mentioned Juan, recalling their previous meeting.
'Did you say he was a Count?' he asked. 'Yet I thought your employer was American?'
'His sister, Juan's mother, married a Spaniard,' Pippa replied curtly. 'Have you ever seen any of Gene's films? I can remember seeing some on television back home but not a great deal about them.'
'He played all sorts of parts, cowboys, gangsters, detectives, from what I know. Perhaps he was too versatile to become really great in any one style.'
Or made too many powerful enemies with his outspokenness, Pippa thought to herself, recalling some of the rows at the studios Gene had described. But she could not say this and so agreed lightly.
When she regretfully said she had to go David urged her to see him again, and she agreed to meet him the following day for a boat trip round Mahon harbour.
'It really is fantastic,' he enthused, and when she saw it the next afternoon Pippa had to agree. One of the largest harbours in the world, the bay was two and a half miles long and had sheltered many fleets over the centuries.
'This is the leper island,' the guide intoned, 'and the high walls were built to prevent the infection spreading to Mahon.'
Several other islands and shore bases had been garrisoned at various times and Pippa's head was reeling with facts when they returned to the quay.
*
They wandered up the steep hillside into the old town, through narrow streets and alleyways.
'You must see the covered market,' David said as they came out into an open space, and led the way to a busy building beside a large church.
Inside, two wide passageways stretched at right angles, filled with market stalls selling a vast variety of fruit and other goods. David led the way down one of these where small shops opened out in arched alcoves, and at the end turned a corner into a similar passageway.
'Does it remind you of anything?' he asked.
'Does it go round in a square?'
'That's right.'
'With a space in the middle a quadrangle. Could it have been cloisters?' Pippa suddenly asked.
'Yes, attached to a Carmelite convent. A most ingenious conversion, isn't it?'
Pippa admired the high vaulted roof, but could not imagine nuns walking in silent contemplation where now the bustling market operated.
'Any more than I can really see English soldiers controlling the island. I wonder what it was really like in those days?'
'Much more peaceful than now, despite the fighting which took place occasionally. Shall we have dinner here or go back to my hotel?'
Pippa chose to stay in Mahon and they found a small restaurant overlooking the harbour. Again Pippa found it easy and pleasant, for David was an undemanding companion, well able to keep the conversation going and avoid any awkward pauses when she permitted her thoughts to return to Juan and his perfidious behaviour.
She had left Gene's car in Ferrerias, the town on the main central road near the turning to Cala Santa Galdana, since it had seemed stupid for both of them to drive all the way to Mahon. When David drew up alongside it Pippa made haste to get out of the car, fearing he would try to kiss her. She felt totally unable to cope with any amorous advances from another man yet, but David moved only to open the door for her. He came to stand by her car door as she got in.
'I enjoyed that, Pippa. Let's meet again soon. I really must work the next few days, but I'll ring you soon if I may?'
She smiled and agreed, thanked him sincerely for an enjoyable day, then drove away, free of distractions, thinking once more about Juan and the way he had so cynically tried to detach her from his uncle.
*
For the next few days she worked as hard as possible. Juan went out most evenings and spent his days in his boat, so they rarely met. Gene tactfully forebore to comment, although he could not have avoided noticing the coolness between them when they did happen to meet, the careful politeness when speech was necessary, and hasty departure of one or the other as soon as it was practicable to do so.
She was learning more about Gene, and her sympathy increased. After Mary died he spent five years working and playing hard, building up his reputation as an actor and also as a playboy. No woman had been able to hold his attention for more than a few weeks, though many had tried. Then he met Louise. She was a year older than Gene, had been married twice, and had sons by both her husbands. Within a month of meeting her, to the amazement of his friends, he married her.
A year later Louise bore a daughter and Gene's life was transformed. He was seen no more in night clubs and the favourite play spots of rich Californians, but spent his free time with his child. He might have been regarded as a model husband and father, yet as Pippa typed the reminiscences she found that Gene was constantly blaming himself for failure in the early years.
'I spent too much time and attention on Lulu, and made Louise jealous. She accused me of treating her just as a childbearing machine, and refused to have another child. Perhaps she was right. One of her
attractions when we first met had been her triumphant motherhood.'
Such passages as these on the tapes, and the bundles of letters Gene produced that he and Louise had exchanged, made painful reading. Pippa wondered whether he would gloss over this very personal aspect of his life and concentrate on his career. There were plenty of incidents here too, rows over casting, the petty jealousies of rival stars, and one or two inexplicable sudden endings of films Gene was working on, work abandoned, the actors and technicians paid off or transferred to other work without explanation.
It had been a bad time for Gene, and Pippa thought it was an effort for him to remember them, although he persisted and threw himself into work as energetically as she.
While he rested in the afternoons Pippa took to driving to explore the island, but it was uninteresting by herself. David took her out occasionally, and although he made his admiration plain he ventured no more than a farewell kiss when he parted from Pippa. She was grateful to him, for pleasant though his company was his kisses stirred her not at all. He might have shaken hands with her for all the response she made. There was none of the delicious shiver of excitement and anticipation that Juan's very nearness aroused. Once or twice she wondered whether Juan had spoiled her for any other man, then crossly told herself he needed time to forget that love.
The first week, however, made her feel the loss more intensely rather than less. On Saturday Gene said he must take a break and he insisted Pippa did too. She was spending Sunday with David, and since he had to meet a colleague who was coming out to join him she had no plans for the day.
'Maria, may I take some food? I feel like walking and staying out the whole day,' she asked, wandering into Maria's spotless, excellently equipped kitchen after breakfast.
Maria swiftly packed some rolls and paté, tomatoes and oranges, and a small flask with chilled white wine.
'Stay out all day, tire yourself out with walking, you have looked pale the last few days,' she advised. 'You have not been sleeping well?'
'No,' Pippa admitted.
'The nights are hot,' Maria nodded, but Pippa knew it was not the temperature of the air which kept her restless but the fever in her body for Juan's kisses.
*
She set off aimlessly along one of the ill defined paths leading across the heathland, pausing to admire the many flowers, purple and yellow and blue, which gave colour to the grey-green bushes. Occasionally she glimpsed gaps in the cliffs on her left, and once or twice was tempted to venture to the edge to see whether she could find a way down to the beach. Eventually she found a path leading downwards into a pleasant looking bay, but when she was half way down a motor launch chugged into the bay and disgorged a dozen noisy youngsters who carried air beds and rugs and picnic hampers, and were clearly all set for a long stay.
Hoping she had not been observed, her jeans and blue shirt merging into the background, Pippa retreated and walked further along the top of the cliffs. She sat looking out over the calm sea to eat her picnic, and then slowly began to retrace her steps.
She had almost reached the Casa Blanca, but was not ready to go back, when she discovered a steep narrow path leading to a beach little bigger than a small room, enclosed by high cliffs which almost totally obscured the narrow opening to the sea. Facing westwards, the sun was still on it, and Pippa stripped off her jeans and top. She was wearing her black bikini underneath and she swam slowly about the small cove for a while, then flung herself down on the sand and let the sun dry her body.
Suddenly her misery overwhelmed her. The isolated cove, the sun, sea and sand, reminded her unbearably of the day she had spent in a similar cove with Juan, and sobs shook her.
After the first wild agony her sobs quietened and brought a certain release from tension. With her head resting on her arms, face downwards, she eventually fell asleep, a brief dreamless oblivion for a short half hour.
Then her cramped arms awoke her and she rolled over, momentarily puzzled to remember where she was. She lay rubbing her arms to restore the feeling, and groaned aloud as memory returned.
'Shall I help?' a soft voice asked, and Pippa sat up in alarm.
*
'Juan!' she exclaimed. 'How did you get here?'
He was sitting a few feet away from her, cross legged on the sand, wearing only a brief pair of swimming trunks. At her question he grinned.
'I swam here. I often do, it's only a short distance from our bay. I take it you walked,' he added, nodding to her small heap of clothes beside her.
'Yes,' she said, embarrassed now to be alone with him, the first time since their quarrel.
'I'll walk back with you, but first, my sweet, I must talk to you. No, please listen,' he said as Pippa, with a gesture of refusal, got hurriedly to her feet.
'What is there to say?' she asked dismally. 'I'd rather go back by myself.'
She stooped to pick up her clothes, but as she straightened up Juan caught her hands in his.
'No, don't fight me, little one. I could force you to stay and listen but I don't want to have to. If you still want to go back by yourself afterwards then I won't force my company on you, but you must give me the opportunity to explain.'
'What is there to explain?' Pippa asked coldly, but she ceased struggling, realising the uselessness of it, for his lean hands were like bands of steel about her wrists.
'Sit down again,' he ordered, and meekly she obeyed. He dropped to the ground a yard away and sat looking out towards the sea.
'Well?' she demanded after the silence grew uncomfortable.
'Pippa, I understand about your need to show you can do a job without the support of your family. I asked you to give up the one with Gene for his sake. I have been thinking over what you said and admit I was wrong. It would cause him more worry to employ someone else, which is what he would have to do. But it would be a disaster if his book were ever published.'
'Why?' Pippa asked, her heart beating erratically as he talked, and it seemed they were no longer at loggerheads with one another. 'Lots of people write down their memories, and people love reading them.'
'Gene's life has been somewhat turbulent, and there has always been a great deal of gossip surrounding him. It has died down the past few years, since he retired and has been living quietly here, but to publish his book would stir up everything. If it were done while he still lived he would find the publicity, and the hounding of reporters, very distressing.'
'Surely he realises the risk of that?'
'He is stubborn. How far have you got with the typing? Are you doing it in order?'
'More or less,' Pippa answered slowly. 'Sometimes the tapes are out of order because Gene didn't date them all, but he listens to the first few minutes and gives me the ones about his early life to type first, putting the others aside for later. We've missed a few but he says it can all be sorted into order later, and then he can begin editing and deciding what should go in.'
'How far have you got?' Juan repeated.
'About five years after he married Louise,' she replied.
'Then you haven't reached the worst part,' Juan said slowly. 'You know that Louise died, and their daughter?'
'Yes, I'd heard that, but Gene has not mentioned it yet. I don't know when or how.'
'That is less important than the rumours and accusations made at the time. Lulu died when she was ten, she was thrown from the new horse Gene had bought for himself. He was out but her nurse, who usually looked after her when he was not there, maintained that she had been sent off for the day. Louise said he had been with a woman, with all the implications of that. He said he had not sent the nurse away and was interviewing the woman for a small part in a film he was directing. But then Louise claimed he had always been unfaithful to her, and Lulu was not his child but the daughter of a lover she had had at the time of her marriage to Gene.
'I didn't believe the story, neither did the people who knew Gene well, but that sort of mud sticks and it would be stirred again if he were once more in th
e limelight.'
'How horrible,' Pippa whispered.
'But that is not all,' Juan went on sombrely. 'Louise died a short while afterwards in a car smash, and her brother claimed she had told him Gene was trying to kill her and had already tampered with the brakes of the car a month earlier. He missed being officially accused by a hairsbreadth.'
'Poor Gene. I don't believe a word of it!'
'No, but you can see that people who don't know him will revel in all the murky details. Even if he dies before it is published it will damage many people who were badly hurt at the time. Gene has a certain simplicity, he thinks that if he tells his side of the story again, as he did at the time, people in general will be more ready to listen than they were then. I think otherwise.'
'But he won't stop writing his book. It is not always a painful experience for him,' Pippa asserted.
'No, but I have come to believe that instead of leaving him to find a new assistant it would be better for you to stay on and try to influence him against including certain things. Then if the book is ever finished it might be less damaging.'
'I couldn't work against him,' Pippa protested.
'I'm not asking you to sabotage the book,' Juan replied, rolling over and taking her hand in his, causing her to tremble with renewed agitation. 'I want to help Gene and you can do so too. When you see what he has written I am sure you will see ways of omitting the worst passages, persuading him his account of the film business in the forties and fifties will be more valuable than personal gossip, dredging up old malice of others against him.'
'I might,' Pippa conceded.
'That's all I ask for now. And that you stop treating me like a villain. I hate seeing you so unhappy, my dear, and most of all I hate not being able to take you in my arms and hold you close to me and kiss you, like this.'
*
Gently he pulled her to him and slowly, with infinite care, brought his lips down on hers. Pippa closed her eyes and sighed, and her arms stole round his neck as she clung to him, all else forgotten in the bliss of once more having him close to her.
Question of Love Page 9