Caribbean Cocktail

by Jane Corrie

  Might have been? She frowned as she repeated the words silently to herself. What might have been? Was she going soft in the head? And wasn't it time she pulled herself together? Anyone would think Justin had proposed to her instead of suggesting some dubious team-up. She brushed away a stray tear angrily; it was this island, it must be ! She wasn't normally like this; when she got home she would look back on all this with a certain amount of incredulity and wonder what had come over her. She nodded her head vigorously; of course she would! As for the future, she had every reason to look forward to it with great anticipation. She would be free at last from the beck and call of the Mellar family, and so would Sylvia. How selfish

  of her not to wish for Sylvia's happiness simply because she had very nearly made a fool of herself over a man who lived on his wits—a grasper of opportunities, who probably had a whole string of women pining for his company. Well, she could count herself lucky that she had had the presence of mind to escape embroilment with him.

  Cassy felt decidedly better after this little lecture she had given herself, and when her phone rang again, and Sylvia's voice came over the line, she was able to talk to her with an equability that surprised her.

  'Hi!' said Sylvia gaily. 'Greg's in the final, how about that!' she enthused happily. 'Justin's returned today, so I expect he'll be contacting you. Did you enjoy yourself last night?' she asked the now scowling Cassy, who was about to answer this query in no uncertain manner, then decided it might be better if everyone thought she was enjoying herself—including Justin Pride ! She also thought it best not to mention that she had seen Justin; the less said about that encounter, the better.

  'Yes, thank you,' she lied stoutly. `Had a wonderful time. Got myself booked for the rest of the week,' she perjured herself further, on the excuse that it was all in a good cause.

  'Oh dear, Justin won't like that,' replied Sylvia with a hint of amusement in her voice. I made a point of finding out if I remembered to ring you yesterday and cancel your date.'

  Cassy's hand clenched on the receiver. `Oh, I expect he'll survive,' she said, trying to insert a gay note into her voice, but her earlier revival of spirits suffered a setback, and she was beginning to feel miserable again.

  In an effort to change the conversation she asked, `When's the final?'

  Her tactics worked as she had known they would, and for the next few minutes Sylvia enthused on the merits of Greg's dexterity on the golf course, ending up with, 'Well, I suppose I shall see you some time. Tell you what, keep Saturday free for us. We'll have dinner together—at least, with Greg and me. I can't speak for Justin, of course, but I'll mention it to him, if you want me to?'

  The question was idly asked, yet Cassy caught the hopeful note in it, as if she was trying to instil some kind of conscience into Cassy for being so unhelpful, and so antagonistic towards someone who had helped Sylvia so much.

  Cassy, however, was not to be drawn into such a trap, knowing full well that even if he were asked, he would turn the invitation down, arousing Sylvia's curiosity still further, and that was something Cassy wanted to avoid at all costs. 'Don't bother to ask Justin,' she said quickly. 'Just make it you, me and Greg, in case I decide to bring my own partner—if you see what I mean,' she went on as gaily as she could manage. On those terms Sylvia could hardly ask Justin to join them.

  There was a short silence the other end as Sylvia digested this, then she said curiously, `So it's like that, is it? I think you'd better bring him along. I want to see this man who appears to have got through that load of armour you've been skulking behind all these years.'

  Alarmed, Cassy replied hastily, 'Oh, it's nothing like that. He's just good fun.' She closed her eyes on having to give yet another downright lie. `Besides, I might

  have had enough of his company by Saturday, so I'd much rather you left things open,' she instructed.

  Sylvia reluctantly gave her word on this, but the curiosity was still in her voice as she ended with, `Well, enjoy yourself. See you Saturday.'

  Replacing the receiver with a sigh, Cassy wondered if she would ever be in a position to unfurl the tangle she was in. Things got worse instead of better. In trying to get herself out of one awkward situation, she had landed herself in another. For goodness' sake, why had she to bring another odd character into the ménage? She ought to have just asked Sylvia to make it a threesome, and left it at that, and she would have done if she hadn't been so certain that Sylvia would approach Justin, in spite of Cassy's feelings on the matter.

  The next thing Cassy did was to cancel all the tours she had booked; explaining to the slightly surprised booking clerk that she had met a friend on the island, and had decided to join forces with her for the rest of her holiday, and at the apologetic but firm reply that they were unable to give her a refund on the bookings, she assured them that she had not expected any such remuneration, and left the counter with the booking clerk's kindly, 'Have a good day,' wishes, that were well meant but hardly likely, thought Cassy caustically.

  Going back to her room, she collected her hat and bag and left the hotel, deliberately making herself unavailable for any further calls, in person or phone-wise, since she felt she had had her quota of unwelcome surprises for that day and planned to browse around the shopping precincts of Nassau, having lunch out, and returning to the hotel later, to spend the rest of the day on the beach.

  Surely she would be left in peace now, she thought, as she climbed into the waiting taxi outside the hotel and gave the driver her destination. If she was out each morning, and lost herself amidst the well populated hotel beach each afternoon, it ought to be possible to stay out of any further involvement. Sylvia would presume that she was fully engaged with what she apparently thought was Cassy's man of the moment, and on that premise would keep a tactful distance.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CASSY was fortified by a few hours' peace, and an interesting survey of the wonders of a tropical island's offerings, not only in the shopping precincts, but the harbour activity where she watched the local fishermen unload their fascinating catches. She would have stayed longer had she not seen that one of the boats a little further up had brought in a giant turtle. She felt saddened at the necessity to capture such a harmless creature, and walked away. Not even the knowledge that the turtle provided food, and its shell was used to make items of jewellery that provided yet another source of income to the islanders, helped to assuage her feelings on this. She liked turtles—she couldn't help that, could she? she argued silently to herself as she waved a cruising taxi down and went back to the hotel.

  The afternoon tours had left by the time she returned, and all was quiet in the usually hectic reception area. Cassy was just congratulating herself on the success of her plan to keep in the background when she was confronted by a grinning Sylvia who must have been waiting in the hotel foyer until her return.

  Feeling very frustrated, Cassy was forced to try and appear pleased-to see her, but it was not easy. The girls went up to Cassy's room, Sylvia babbling on about one thing and another, and Cassy, not missing the way she kept looking around the foyer on Cassy's

  arrival, knew she had been hoping to meet the man who had captured Cassy's own interest. It was sheer curiosity that had torn her away from Greg's side for a few hours, and though irritated, Cassy felt a spurt of remorse for misleading her, until she reminded herself that it was all Sylvia's fault anyway. If she had been honest at the start, Cassy wouldn't be in this predicament.

  Out of the corner of her eye she eyed the exuberant Sylvia, noting the added sparkle in her eyes making her look positively lovely, and had to acknowledge with a pang in her heart that she was well and truly in love. There was a kind of shy yet complete assurance about her that Cassy had not seen before—the kind of assurance that came when a person knew that their love was returned. She swallowed hastily on the thought. Sylvia had apparently landed on her feet; the path ahead was strewn with rose petals. Well, it would be, once everything was straightened out w
ith her father.

  This thought led to another. 'I had a phone call from your father,' she said, as she inserted the key into the lock opening the door of her room and ushering Sylvia in. 'He threatened to come out here,' she added dryly.

  Sylvia' s eyebrows rose as she queried, 'Well? Is he coming?'

  Cassy gave her a long considering look. Once upon a time, in actual fact a little over forty-eight hours ago, such a communication would have had Sylvia rushing out to find some kind of sanctuary from her father's bullying presence. In spite of her earlier statement that she hoped that he would put in an appearance, she must have known that it would mean the end of her

  charade. Now here she was, casually querying whether he was coming or not, as if he was some acquaintance who might or might not drop in on them! She sighed inwardly; it was just _another sign of Sylvia's newfound confidence, bolstered by the thought of her brawny Greg protecting his love!

  `He might have done,' she replied, feeling a spurt of pure envy at Sylvia's rose-coloured world. 'I told him about Greg,' she went on, swallowing her feelings. `No doubt he's looking him up in Who's Who—or some such informative journal. So if he's as celebrated a character as you say, you've nothing to worry about. He also has trouble with the shareholders,' she tacked on dryly, with a hint of amusement in her voice, for they were both aware of Sylvia's father's obsession that the company would collapse without his personal guidance, and even on holiday he would keep in close touch with head office.

  Sylvia grinned appreciatively at this. 'Well, I can't say I'm sorry,' she said impishly. 'I'm expecting Greg to pop the question any day now. He wants to,' she said, with a loving look in her eye, 'but I think he's afraid it's too soon, and is just biding his time. I've a feeling he'll do it after he's won the final,' she confided happily to Cassy.

  Not `if he wins the final', noted Cassy, now back to the envious stage. Even if he lost, it wouldn't make any difference, of that she was now certain. Lucky Sylvia! `I told your father you would write to him,' she told Sylvia, glad of a chance to change the conversation as she felt depression creeping over her.

  `Oh, dear,' sighed Sylvia, brought back from her happy musings. 'Yes, I suppose I ought to, but I'd

  rather wait until I have some definite news for him.' `Well, that's up to you,' commented Cassy, suddenly tired of the whole business.

  There was a short silence, then Sylvia burst out, `Well? Who is he?' in a strangled voice that showed how impatient she was to hear the answer.

  It took a moment or so for Cassy to get the trend of her thoughts, and she blinked in puzzlement while she worked the question out.

  `Oh, for goodness' sake,' cried Sylvia. 'Who's this mysterious character who's taking up all your spare time? And don't look so innocent. I mean to find out,' she threatened. 'He must be some kind of superman if you prefer him to Justin,' she went on musingly, `particularly as Justin is interested in you. I did tell you so, but you wouldn't believe me. Greg and I were talking to him just before I came over here, and Greg said something about you having a heavy date. He was only teasing, you know, but Justin looked like thunder, and I had to give Greg a slight kick on the ankle to shut him up."

  Cassy looked away quickly. Sylvia didn't know the half of it! What would she say if she were to tell her what had happened between herself and Justin that very morning? 'What does Justin do for a living?' she asked, to give herself time to answer Sylvia's previous question.

  Sylvia started, and stared at Cassy, then gave a half surprised snort. 'Of all the people I might have accused of being snobbish, you'd be the last,' she said in an indignant voice. `So that's what's worrying you, is it? And you asked me that question before, didn't you?' she added accusingly.

  'Only because I was afraid he was helping you for purely monetary reasons,' replied Cassy wearily.

  Sylvia surveyed her out of narrowed eyes. 'And why are you asking now?' she demanded suspiciously.

  Cassy looked away from her searching eyes; she would have to be careful now. 'Because I'm interested,' she said bluntly, and seeing a gleam of speculation in Sylvia's eyes, added quickly, `Not that way. I just can't understand how he comes to be doing nothing, yet suddenly takes off on a business trip--at least, I suppose it was a business trip,' she amended lamely.

  Sylvia continued to survey her for a second or two in silence, and try as she might, Cassy could not prevent the telltale pink flush from creeping into her cheeks.

  'Shall I tell you what I think?' said Sylvia softly, but triumphantly. think you're more than just interested in him. You've fallen for him, haven't you? And you're terrified he might be some sort of beachcomber ! Shame on you, Cassy ! If it weren't for Greg I'd have a good stab at grabbing him for myself. Well,' she amended ruefully, I would have done, if given half the chance.'

  'What nonsense !' retorted Cassy in a firm voice that she hoped would fool Sylvia. 'If he wouldn't look at you, he certainly wouldn't look at me. We're two little girls as far as he's concerned. All right, so he's interested in me—but that's as far as it goes. I'm not so green that I can't see that.' She altered her approach in an effort to make Sylvia understand how it was. 'Look, dear,' she said quietly. 'In a few days' time I shall be catching a plane home. Just supposing—and I mean supposing—that I did fall in love with him. Oh, I admit I'm attracted to him, I'll concede that much,

  but where will that get me? I'll also admit that I'm frightened of him, frightened of the attraction he holds for me, and I don't intend to spend the rest of my life sighing for someone I can't have. Does that make sense to you or not?' she asked in a low voice.

  Sylvia was immediately contrite. 'Oh, Cassy,' she wailed, 'and I teased you so much, didn't I?'

  Cassy looked away. So much for her hoping she could fool Sylvia! She ought to have known that they were too close to each other for any such tactics.

  But how do you know he isn't serious?' Sylvia asked suddenly, a brighter note entering her voice. 'He did look put out when Greg remarked about your absence from the scene, and then mentioned you having a heavy date—and that was my fault, I told him about the man you said you'd met.' She gave Cassy a searching look. 'I suppose that was a story you made up to keep Justin away, was it?' she asked.

  Cassy walked over to the window and stood looking out at the bright vista before she replied, 'It was partially true. I did meet someone on the one and only evening tour I participated in. The only deviation being that he was a crashing bore who clung like a limpet to me all evening. He was even waiting for me to have breakfast with him, in spite of the fact that I'd done everything possible the previous evening to show him that he was wasting his time, and would he please go and pick on someone else. I was politely repeating the message to him this morning when Justin appeared on the scene.'

  `Justin came over here this morning?' interrupted Sylvia in a surprised voice. 'He didn't mention it.' Cassy closed her eyes; she hadn't wanted Sylvia to

  know that, but it was too late now. She gave a weary sigh. Sylvia might as well know the whole of it. At least it would help her to understand Cassy's attitude towards him. She turned to face Sylvia and gave a wry smile. 'No, I don't suppose he saw the necessity, particularly as I said no to a certain proposition he had in mind.'

  `Proposition !' squeaked Sylvia with wide eyes. 'For goodness' sake, what kind of proposition?'

  `I didn't bother to enquire,' replied Cassy sardonically. 'Apart from the fact that he thought we might "team up" together, and asked me to stay on here.'

  Sylvia sat down weakly on the nearest chair. 'Could it have been a kind of proposal?' she said wonderingly.

  `Oh, it was a proposal all right,' replied Cassy ironically, 'but not the marriage sort, if you see what I mean.'

  Sylvia was decidedly shaken. 'Who'd have thought,' she muttered, then looked back at Cassy. `Cassy, ' she said firmly, 'I think you ought to take the first plane out of here,' in a motherly way that made Cassy want to smile in spite of the tight ache in her heart.

  She gave h
er cousin a smile. 'Rest easy, dear. He might be fascinating, but I'm not that stupid. I'm sure he won't bother me again. That was why he was so furious when your Greg dropped that brick. I mean, it must have been galling for him; I shouldn't think he's had many refusals in the past, would you?'

  Sylvia did not reply as she was deep in thought, and she chewed her lower lip for a few seconds. 'Perhaps it makes sense after all,' she cogitated to herself, and in a still wondering voice added, 'He's not a beachcomber, Cassy. In fact, he's a very wealthy man. He

  owns the Beach Hotel, and several other hotels on the out islands. Greg told me about him,' she gave Cassy an apologetic look. 'I could have told you before, only I was a bit cross with you for not accepting him as he was, or the sort of person you seemed to think he was,' she amended hastily. 'But Greg did say something else; something about the way women chased him, and how he was a little too clever to get caught. So I expect ...' She did not finish the sentence, she had no need to as Cassy was well aware of the trend of her thoughts.

  `And as I belonged to that same category of fortune-hunters that he so abhors, or at least as you had alleged I did, he thought I was fair game. I suppose,' Cassy said slowly, 'he was attracted by my firm refusal to play the game. Probably thought it was some kind of come-on. At least, until he called my bluff, as he did this morning.' Cassy omitted to mention that she had called him a 'beachcomber' !