by Anne Mather
Felipe fastened his coat absently. “Manuel has never loved any woman,” he said slowly.
“But he does… well, take her around.”
“Yes, that is so. But you must understand, Julie, Dolores can share his work with him, and this is most important. She is an artiste too, and their interests intermingle at this level. Besides, Dolores loves Manuel, I think, and this is important, also. She is a fiery creature, untamable and untamed, but her relationship with Manuel is of long standing and although she tends to regard him like the tigress protects her cub, there is no understanding between them, if that is what you mean.”
Julie swallowed hard. “That’s what I mean.”
“Why do you ask?”
Julie shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“You do realize that to love Manuel yourself would be the height of foolhardiness?”
Julie swallowed again. “Yes. Yes, I understand that. I… I don’t love Manuel, Felipe. We… we have nothing in common. If anything, I despise him for his attitude towards my sex, but as a man, and in what he’s doing for the new hospital and for Teresa, I can’t help but admire him.”
Felipe nodded. “Manuel is a generous man in many ways. And there is one woman he adores. Pilar. But as far as I know she is and always has been the only woman in his life.”
“Thank you.” Julie managed a smile. “You must think I’m terribly curious.”
“No. Manuel has always aroused women’s interest. But I don’t want you to be hurt, Julie.”
“I won’t be,” said Julie lightly, but as she closed the door after Felipe had gone she leaned against it for a moment wearily. No, she thought dully, she would not be hurt now, that was all in the past!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JULIE had no chance to refuse the invitation to Cyprus Lake. Felipe wanted her to go, and unless she was to arouse his suspicions about her feelings for Manuel she must go. Besides, Samantha too was very keen, and urged Julie to go to keep her company. Mrs. Sparks could stay with Tony for one evening, and it would be their first real occasion since their arrival in the United States.
So Julie agreed, and spent an afternoon with Samantha in San Francisco searching for a suitable dress for Samantha to wear. Julie had said she could not afford to buy a dress just for the party, but when the sales assistant in the shop where Samantha was being fitted in a gold lame caftan brought out an orange chiffon gown with a low neckline, long sleeves and a swirling rage of pleats for a skirt, Julie succumbed, and agreed to try it on. It swirled about her like a sheet of orange flame, and Samantha stared at her, entranced.
“Oh, Julie,” she exclaimed, “you must have it! If you never buy another thing, do have it.”
So Samantha had the gold lame and Julie bought the flame-coloured chiffon, inwardly despising herself for wondering what Manuel would think of her wearing such a dress.
The drive to Cyprus Lake took a little over an hour, so the girls travelled in slacks and sweaters and changed there. Felipe took them in his car, and Julie and Samantha, sitting in the back, had plenty of time to admire the view.
The wild, rugged magnificence of the scenery was breathtaking, and Julie spent the whole journey on the edge of her seat, taking an intense interest in everything Felipe said.
Cyprus Lake stood in several acres of private land on the exclusive Monterey peninsula. Tonight it was a blaze of floodlighting, the lake gleaming metallically in the pale lights. The through lounge of the house had been cleared of all unnecessary furniture, and buffet tables spilled out on to the terrace and the paved court beyond which led down to the lake.
Felipe brought the car to a halt behind several others, and took the girls in through a side entrance and up a wide, shallow staircase to a huge landing above. Here he opened a door revealing a bedroom and bathroom beyond.
“Take your time,” he said easily. “We’re quite early. See you downstairs again.”
“Thank you, Felipe,” said Julie, smiling, and following Samantha into the softly carpeted room.
Their suitcases emptied, they hastily washed and changed and applied make-up.
“Isn’t this nice?” whispered Samantha, glancing round her appreciately. “It’s much better to know someone, isn’t it? I mean, Felipe obviously knows his way around the house. Gosh, look at that bed! Doesn’t it look dreamy?”
The bed was a massive four-poster, fitting in exactly with the bow-fronted dressing table and huge wardrobe. The carpet was a deep red in colour, and heavy amber-coloured drapes hung at the windows.
Julie nodded, and then said briskly: “Are you ready? Shall we go?”
Downstairs Ben and Felipe were waiting for them, and with them was their host, Manuel Cortez. Julie had never seen him in a dinner jacket before, and as it was white it enhanced his dark colouring. His eyes appraised her as she descended the stairs and she felt inestimably glad that she had decided to buy the new dress. That it suited her there was no doubt, and Manuel’s eyes were dark and enigmatic as they rested on her.
He spoke charmingly to Samantha when she was introduced, immediately winning her respect, and then he said to Felipe:
“Take Julie and her friends out to the terrace. I must greet all my guests, but I’ll try and join you later.”
While Samantha and Ben danced to the music of the record-player, and white-coated attendants flitted about with trays of glasses filled with champagne cocktails, Felipe took Julie to introduce her to the other members of his family.
She forgot most of their names at once, but they were very pleasant to her and she almost forgot about Pilar Cortez until she insinuated herself between Julie and Felipe and said: “Hello, Uncle Felipe! Do you like my dress?”
She was wearing white, a pure white lame, whose plainness made Julie’s look old-fashioned. Her hair was in a coronet on top of her head, and she looked incredibly beautiful and unbelievably older than she actually was. She gave Julie a strange glance, and said: “I know you, don’t I? You’re Julie Kennedy. You came to the apartment in London to see my father.”
Julie turned scarlet. Pilar’s clear voice was loud enough for all to hear, and Pilar knew it too. She was deliberately being rude by speaking of meetings which sounded clandestine in intent.
“Pilar,” said Felipe quietly, “why don’t you go and find Tina and her husband? They are more your age group. You leave Julie to me, eh?”
His tone was gentle but insistent, and Pilar gave Julie an insolent look and stalked away.
Julie shifted uncomfortably, and Felipe said: “Relax, Julie. I know Pilar of old. But I would say that what she said explains something to me.”
“What?”
“Your relationship with Manuel; it’s him, isn’t it? It’s Manuel you are running away from.”
Julie turned away, gripping the stem of her wine glass so tightly she thought it would break.
“Felipe,” she said desperately, “please!”
“And Manuel doesn’t marry his women, does he?” said Felipe candidly, not intentionally cruel, but rather insisting on the truth.
“I have not been one of Manuel’s women!” said Julie tightly.
“Ah, I see,” Felipe nodded. “Then that is why Pilar seems so afraid of you.”
“Afraid of me? Don’t be so ridiculous!”
“But yes, Julie. Whenever Pilar is rude it is because she is afraid. You forget, she has not always lived with Manuel, and she remembers the hell she suffered with her mother. She is jealous, and possessive of her father. But she knows that so long as Manuel is able to have any woman he wants he will not marry them.”
Julie recalled then Pilar’s indifference when she spoke of Dolores Arriviera.
“And with you, maybe she thinks it is different,” went on Felipe. “But, Julie, don’t let yourself be deceived. I love my brother dearly, but I am not unaware of his faults.”
“Nor am I,” said Julie, swallowing her cocktail. “May I have another drink, please?”
Nodding, Felipe took her glas
s and excusing himself for a moment he went across to get her one. Julie looked about her nervously. She hoped Manuel would not see she was alone and choose this opportunity to come and destroy her peace of mind with his taunting comments and only partially-veiled insults.
Light fingers touched her arm and she felt the unpleasant hardness of sharp nails against her skin, and she jumped violently. Her thoughts had absorbed her so much that she thought they had become reality, but when she swung round tremblingly she found Dolores Arriviera beside her, her eyes glinting maliciously.
“Well, well, señorita,” she said mockingly. “Who were you expecting? Manuel, perhaps?”
Julie shook her head, mesmerized by the burning quality of Dolores’ dark glittering eyes. She felt unable to look away, like a rabbit who is hypnotized by the snake.
Dolores permitted a faint smile to lift her lips. “Poor Señorita Kennedy,” she murmured pityingly. “So unable to hide her feelings! Do you know, señorita, that to me you are a book that is open for me to read every page? Do you know that I am aware that deep inside that puny organ which you call a heart you are burning with desire for the so-handsome Manuel – am I not right?”
Julie’s cheeks burned brilliantly red. “Let go of my arm,” she said softly, not wanting to cause a scene.
“But why? If I do so you will run away, to the so-gallant, but so-dull Señor Felipe Cortez! You will tell him nothing, but that perhaps you are a little faint, and you would like to leave? Am I not right again?”
Julie struggled to free herself, but the other woman’s fingers were as tight as steel bands.
“So I will get to the point, señorita, shall I?” She ran the tip of her tongue across the scarlet slash of her lips, and glanced round casually to see that they were not overheard. “Señorita, let me give you a little bit of advice, for your own good, you understand?”
Julie felt furiously angry. If only Felipe would come back! She knew her anger was an emotional thing that threatened to overwhelm her, and she could not, would not, allow herself to be made to look such a fool!
“Please,” she begged. “We have nothing to say to one another. I don’t want to hear about you and Manuel. I know… I know!”
Dolores laughed a brittle laugh. “Ah, but you see I am sure you secretly cherish a desire for a closer relationship with Manuel, despite your petty, bourgeois upbringing, and it is painfully obvious to everyone, Pilar, Manuel and myself at least, that you followed him here to California in the faint hope that he might conceivably change his mind about you. He told me he had finished with you finally in London, yet you persist in pursuing him here! My dear señorita, have you no pride?”
Julie’s face was white now, and her eyes were wide and brilliant with unshed tears. “He… he…told you that?”
“But, of course, cara, he tells me everything. But everything!”
At last Julie was able to break away, and she pressed a hand to her throat to quell the rising urge she had to be sick. Oh, God, she thought wildly, how could I ever have imagined he was a decent, honourable man?
When Felipe found her she was composed again, unwilling to confirm Dolores Arriviera’s accusations by begging him to take her home and away from this place. Instead, she accepted her drink and tried to act naturally.
Felipe seemed pleased about something, a smile playing round his lips.
“Why have you been so long?” asked Julie. “Where have you been?”
Felipe grinned broadly. “I have been talking to Manuel, actually,” he answered, not noticing the sudden tightening of Julie’s features in his own excitement. “I have not seen him for two days, and he had some news for me. Teresa is returning to hospital tomorrow!”
Julie’s own problems were momentarily forgotten. “Oh, how wonderful!”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?”
“But how… I mean… has her father made the story public?”
“No, nothing like that,” Felipe chuckled. “He was merely given a taste of his own medicine for a change.”
“In what way?”
“It’s quite simple really. Manuel handled it. He hired a private investigator to dig up a few facts about Giulio Renaldi – that’s Teresa’s father’s name, by the way. It was something I would never have thought of doing, but as usual for Manuel it paid dividends. The investigator discovered certain facts which indicated a relationship between Renaldi and a particular unsavoury character who has recently been deported. Naturally, when faced with these facts Renaldi folded up. He has no desire to be deported also. He likes it here too well. So with a little moral blackmail the agreement was reached.”
Julie ran a tongue over her dry lips. “Have you seen Teresa since she was taken away?”
“No, but Manuel has, and he says she has fortunately suffered no ill effects, so in a few days the operation will be complete, and Teresa will have her chance to walk normally, which is all we ever wanted.”
Julie managed to speak casually about the affair, but she could not forget the Spanish woman’s words or their implication. It seemed there were two Manuels; the kind, considerate benefactor who would go to any lengths to help Teresa Renaldi, and the cruel, sometimes hateful man who had managed somehow to get under her skin and in so doing ruin her life.
It was much later in the evening before she saw Manuel again. They had had a buffet supper, although Julie had barely touched a thing, and was wishing it could be over so that she could go home and try to forget everything that had happened. After supper was over Manuel was prevailed upon to sing, and someone found his guitar and a couple of guests who were willing to accompany him on flute and drums. At first he did not sing, but played some plaintive Flamenco music which sent Julie’s senses reeling. Then he sang, and the words, sometimes corny and hackneyed, assumed a new meaning under his expert handling.
Julie’s eyes were drawn irresistibly to his dark face as he sang, and she wondered why his expression was so brooding.
“Stay with me,
For I hunger for your touch,
For I’m loving you so much
There is nothing I won’t give
If you’ll only say you’ll live with me.
Stay with me,
My beloved, only you
Make my every dream come true.
If we part I’ll never win,
Give me love and say again
You will always stay with me.”
Manuel finished the song and looked up, his eyes meeting Julie’s suddenly across the room, above the heads of his other guests, who were applauding wildly.
Julie turned away. She could not bear it. She stumbled down the flower-strewn path towards the lake, and finding a twisting footway followed it automatically.
Bushes, scented with the wild lilac so delicious at this time of year, brushed at her clothes, while the mossy pathway underfoot was hardly suitable for her light sandals.
The path petered out in a summerhouse, on the shores of the lake, its minaret-like dome glinting silver in the moonlight. She stepped up the two steps and looked inside. In the gloom she could make out couches surrounding it fixed against the walk, while a central low table held a pile of music manuscript as though Manuel used it for his composing. Julie sat down, and lifted several pages and flicked through them. Then she replaced them and lay back wearily. It was very quiet, and very peaceful, and she relaxed.
She felt sleepy with the wine she had consumed, and she wasn’t sure how long she had been there when footsteps sounded outside and a figure appeared in the doorway – a girl’s figure wearing a pure white dress.
“So you are here!” said Pilar. “I have been looking for you.”
“Have you? Why?” Julie sat up straight. She could not conceive of any reason why Pilar should want to see her.
“I want to talk to you,” said Pilar, and as Julie rose to her feet: “Sit down!”
Julie subsided obediently, more surprised than anything.
“Well?” she said. “What is it?”
<
br /> Pilar hesitated. “You are in love with my father, aren’t you? Oh, don’t bother to deny it, I recognize the signs now. I should do. I’ve had plenty of experience.”
Julie swallowed hard. “My affairs are nothing to do with you.”
“They are when they involve my father,” retorted Pilar angrily. “Following him here from England!”
Julie stood up. “Oh, please,” she began brokenly, unable to take any more. “It’s not like that at all. Your father and I are through.”
Pilar looked scornfully at her. “Stop trying to stall me! I can see through you.”
“I must be patently transparent,” cried Julie wearily. “Look, what can I say to convince you? I’m not… at least… there’s nothing between your father and me.”
“Don’t give me that! Why is Dolores so moody, then? And why has my father stopped caring for her?”
“You’re talking nonsense! Your father and Dolores are well matched. I am sure it won’t be long before they realize it and make their contract binding.”
“I don’t believe you!” Pilar’s face was strained as though things weren’t going at all as she wanted them. “You’re making it up! My father would never marry Dolores Arriviera!” Julie tried to get past Pilar, the girl barred her way. “Tell me more,” she said wildly. “How do you know all this?”
“I don’t know anything any more.” Julie felt nauseated by the whole affair. “Now let me by. I’m tired of you, and of Dolores, and most of all of your father!”
She thrust Pilar aside with a superhuman effort and fled back along the path which led to the terrace. A sob was rising in her throat; she had never been subject to such mental agony before and all she could think of was escape. She ran full tilt into the man coming along the path, and he caught her up in his arms and held her close to him for a moment, while she took a shaking breath. Then she wrenched herself away and looked up at him, but she had known who it was before she saw his face.
“Let me go! Let me go!” she cried, half-sobbing. “I never want to see you again as long as I live!”
She thrust past him, but he caught her arm roughly, hurting her.