by Anne Mather
“What in hell’s name has been happening?” he exclaimed exasperatedly. “Julie, for goodness’ sake explain yourself!”
“Explain myself?” Julie glared at him, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. “Go and ask that precious daughter of yours! She knows all the answers. She’s been through it all before. I haven’t!”
“Pilar?” His eyes narrowed. “What has she been saying?”
“Quite a lot.” Julie managed to drag herself away from him. “Between Pilar and Dolores I’ve just about had all I can take. Now let me go!”
She ran on, uncaring of what he thought of her now. Her only desire was to escape, and her home in England had never seemed more dear. Why had she ever left? She should have known better than to come to California; deep inside her she had always known that she would meet Manuel again. There was no escaping the pain in her heart and no disguising of her feelings to herself.
She emerged from the bushes and saw the brightly lit patio ahead of her. She couldn’t face all those people again. Not now! She couldn’t go and make polite conversation, dance with Felipe and act as though everything was normal when she felt torn apart inside.
She skirted the terrace, and came out on the sweep of drive in front of the house where the numerous cars were parked. It would have been easy enough to take a car; most of them had keys left dangling carelessly in their ignitions. Obviously no one expected any harm to come to them here.
Julie felt undecided. What could she do really, except go back? If only there was a call-box so that she could ring for a cab without drawing attention to herself. If she could get back to the house and ring Ben and Samantha from there she would feel safe again. It was only eleven-thirty; the party wouldn’t break up for ages yet, and she would not be missed until it was time to leave. She looked about her. There might conceivably be a phone box down the road. After all, the telephone was a very important instrument in America.
The sound of the sea was in her ears as she left the drive and turned on to the coast road. But she paid no heed to it. The opulence of her surroundings no longer appeased the ache in her heart when she thought of Manuel. She refused to think about Pilar Cortez, and her insinuations, her sneering voice still rang in her ears. But it made no difference now. As soon as it could be arranged, she was going back to England. She would not leave Samantha without anyone to care for Tony, but as soon as a substitute could be arranged she must go. Even the thought of Felipe and her work at the hospital could not assuage the pain she was feeling. She was weak and foolish, but sometimes even physical exhaustion was not enough.
The road ahead of her was dark and shadowed as the moon slid behind a bank of clouds. To Julie, nervous and shaken after her encounter with Pilar, it was almost eerie, and the sounds from the house were growing fainter.
She had not gone far when the searchlight glare of headlights appeared behind her, moving swiftly, and she scrambled hastily off the road and into a belt of trees. So intent was she on avoiding being seen by some predatory motorist that her swift jack-knife into the trees startled an animal which had been standing quietly in the gloom, its wary eyes alert for danger.
Julie caught a glimpse of eyes turned red by the headlights, a soft muzzle trembling with fear, and branching antlers, like devil’s horns. She screamed, unable to control her already tortured nerves. The animal bolted, terrified by the abrupt intrusion into its solitude. It ran wildly across the highway, straight into the path of the oncoming car.
There was a squeal of brakes, a scorching hiss of tyres on the road’s surface, and a skidding scraping of metal as the car spun off its course and swerved unavoidably for the belt of trees.
Julie watched; her hands pressed to her cheeks, as the car crashed sickeningly into the solid base of a redwood tree, and came lurchingly to a halt. For a moment she stood as though petrified, then she ran forward and tried unsuccessfully to wrench open the car door. It would not budge, and she heard herself sobbing with desperation as she tugged, trying to see whether the man inside was alive or dead.
And when she gave it up and turned round to look for help, she recognized the car, and her heart stopped beating for a breathtaking moment. It was Manuel’s car; and it was Manuel who was lying slumped over the wheel, blood trickling down his cheek.
Hysteria rose in her throat, but she fought it back with strength she had not known she possessed. It was no use panicking; and the longer she delayed, the less chance he might have to survive. But equally, it was no use staying here. There was nothing she could do alone. She must go for help; go for help and leave Manuel lying in his own blood. Oh, God, she thought desperately, please don’t let him die, please don’t let him die! I love him! I love him!
Gone were all her inhibitions; as she ran madly back down the road towards Manuel’s house, she knew that if he got well, she would not be leaving for England. It didn’t matter what sort of man he was. She loved him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
JULIE lived through the next two weeks in an agony of anxiety. Manuel was rushed to the Stafford Infirmary in San Francisco, with a fractured skull and multiple cuts and bruises. His family were told, it was relayed to Julie through Felipe that he was lucky to have gotten off so lightly, but Julie could not forgive herself for what she considered to be her fault.
If she had not left the party so suddenly; if Manuel had not decided to go look for her; if she had not screamed when she saw the harmless deer and caused it to run so wildly into the path of Manuel’s car!
Everything seemed to have “if” before it, and for once she could not confide her emotions to Samantha, although Samantha knew full well what her friend was experiencing. She purposely insisted on looking after Tony herself so that Julie was free to come and go as she pleased, and Julie spent most of her time at the Seamen’s Mission Hospital with Felipe.
At the end of two weeks Samantha and Ben had only about ten days of their visit left. It was bittersweet to feel the warmer days approaching and to know that when the roses were in full bloom they would be back in England.
Not that Julie would have minded where she was if she was with Manuel, she thought wearily, unable to deceive herself any longer about her feelings. Samantha and Ben would go home and take up their lives where they had left off, but she – what would she do? Go back to Fordhams? Resume her friendship with Paul?
So she listened to Samantha talking about how nice it would be to read an English paper again, and drink real English tea, while her own life seemed to be slowing down. The only person who seemed to be aware of the true state of affairs was Felipe, and he was kind and undemanding, and talked about Manuel whenever she wished it.
Being a doctor himself he could ascertain exactly Manuel’s condition, and he went to see him every day. Julie asked whether Manuel was allowed visitors and Felipe told her that apart from his family only Dolores had been to see him. At this, Julie’s heart contracted. Of course Dolores would go and see him; after all, she seemed to have resumed her place in Manuel’s affections, although Julie doubted whether that had ever been in any doubt.
“Manuel asked about you,” Felipe said casually one day. “He seemed to think he might have hit you. You were standing in that belt of trees, weren’t you?”
“You know I was. It was all my fault.”
Felipe sighed. “Julie, Manuel swerved to avoid the deer. You had nothing to do with it.”
“I did, I did!” Julie hunched her shoulders. “I frightened the animal in the first place. Oh, help me, Felipe, what am I going to do?”
That was just one of several times that Julie broke down in Felipe’s presence, and she felt sure he must be absolutely sick of her and her emotionalism. But what played on Julie’s mind the most was the thought of her imminent departure for England, and the terrifying prospect of maybe not seeing Manuel before she left.
Samantha had showed an amazing lack of curiosity about Julie’s abrupt departure from the party, and Julie could only assume that Felipe, in his understan
ding way, had said something to her.
Felipe also told Julie that Pilar felt guilty about Manuel’s accident.
“She blames herself, as you do,” he said. “Perhaps you two ought to get together again.”
Julie shivered. “I don’t think that’s at all a good idea.”
“Don’t you? A pity. I think you might be good for one another.”
At the end of that week, when Manuel had been in hospital for eighteen days, Felipe invited Julie to his apartment for dinner on the Saturday evening.
“There will just be the two of us,” he said, “but it will make a break for both of us, and I don’t think dining out in restaurants is quite what you want at the moment, is it?”
Julie agreed, and quite looked forward to the prospect of an evening without the need for assumed gaiety. She dressed in a slim-fitting shift of turquoise linen, and left her hair loose.
Felipe’s apartment was big and roomy, but not so elegant as Manuel’s. It seemed to be filled with furniture, and he confessed to being a confirmed collector of old things, but it was the person who was sitting on Felipe’s settee who drew Julie’s eyes, and she turned back to Felipe with a muffled protestation. It was Pilar Cortez, looking incredibly young and demure in a puritan-collared dress of green silk.
“Hello,” she said, rising as Julie came in, her eyes cool and composed. “Uncle Felipe thought we ought to get to know one another.”
Her tone was still arrogant, but the insolence had gone.
Julie moved awkwardly. “Oh, I… Felipe, why didn’t you tell me?”
“You wouldn’t have come,” he said simply. “Pilar, get Julie a drink, while I go and see what’s happening in the kitchen.”
Julie compressed her lips, and said she would have a sherry when Pilar asked her. Pilar poured the drink, brought it across to her, and said: “Do sit down. I’m not going to bite you.”
Julie subsided on to a couch. Why was it these Cortez’ seemed to act as though they owned the earth; all except Felipe, that is!
Julie sipped her drink, accepted a cigarette from the box on a low table, looked around her with feigned interest.
Pilar watched her, and then said: “I suppose I ought to say I’m sorry.”
Julie’s eyes turned to her. “It’s not important.”
Pilar shuffled restlessly on her seat, tracing the pattern of the moquette with a pointed, red-painted nail. “Yes, it is. My father… that is …” She halted.
“How… how is Man… your father?” Julie drew on her cigarette swiftly.
“He’s recovering.” Pilar was abrupt. “He doesn’t like being in hospital. He is coming home in a few days. He may need private nursing for a while, I don’t know. But in any case, there is plenty of room at Cyprus Lake, and he will have his music, which he misses very much.”
“Yes.”
Pilar stood up. “It was all my fault, you know. Uncle Felipe says you blame yourself, but it’s really not necessary. If I hadn’t spoken to you as I did, you would never …”
“Pilar!” Julie’s voice was soft. “You don’t have to say such things to me. And it certainly was not your fault. I was stupid, I screamed, and the deer ran into the road. That’s really all it was.” She half-smiled. “Besides, if your father is recovering, you have nothing to reproach yourself with. When he is fully recovered, you will have plenty of time to make restitution, if that’s what you want.”
She realized anew that despite Pilar’s appearance she was very immature in some ways.
“Thank you for saying that, but it’s not enough, I’m afraid. My father will never forgive me!”
“Manuel?” Julie stared at her. “Why?”
“Oh, he pretends he doesn’t care, but he does, he does!” Pilar buried her face in her hands, and Julie was astounded. What now?
She rose to her feet, and put an arm round the girl tentatively. She did not quite know what to say to Pilar. She was so touchy and volatile she was half afraid she would suddenly turn on her like an injured animal sometimes turns on its rescuer.
“Care? What about, Pilar?” Julie gripped her tightly. “It can’t be anything to do with the accident. I’m sure Manuel wouldn’t blame anyone for that. He’s not like that! You know he’s not!”
“No, not the accident,” exclaimed Pilar, turning round on Julie. “Do you think he cares for himself? Whatever you may think about my father’s character I can assure you he is not a selfish man!”
“I know.” Julie was perplexed and shook her head. “Pilar, what is it? It is something to do with Dolores?” Her voice faltered over the word.
“No,” said Pilar, in a choked voice, “not Dolores. Besides, she has gone. My father sent her away the day she came to see him. She came home and packed her things and left! I couldn’t understand it at first, but now I do. That’s the trouble.”
Julie’s stomach began to act alarmingly, and she swallowed hard.
“I adore my father,” Pilar went on, “but I am jealous, and a fool. My life has not been neat and tidy like yours. The first seven years of my life I spent with my mother, living a kind of hand-to-mouth existence, not knowing where the next meal was coming from. All she was interested in was men! Does that shock you? You’ve never known that kind of life, have you, Julie? But my father has, and millions of others like us. But I was different. I got out of it. Manuel lifted me out of the mire because he loved me and wanted to atone for the years when he had not known the life we were leading. He had to leave me with Consuelo, my mother, because he had no one to care for me, and the kind of life he was leading at that time didn’t encourage hangers-on. He was determined to succeed, and he did, and then he came back for me. Can you wonder that I am trying to hang on to what I’ve got, knowing that other kind of existence?”
Julie was shocked. “Oh, Pilar,” she cried softly, “you have nothing to fear. Your father loves you, and if he loved a hundred women, he would always have a place in his heart for his daughter.”
“Yes.” Pilar was doubtful. “But that is not enough for him now. There is something stronger which is driving him away from me. Hating me!”
Julie stared at her. “No!”
“Oh, yes. He will not forgive me for driving you away. I have never before interfered in my father’s private affairs, you understand, but you were different, and I was afraid, as I have said …” Her voice trailed away. “Do you see now?”
Julie was beginning to, but she hardly dared consider the truth of what Pilar was implying. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be true!
Felipe came back, halting in the doorway, and surveying the scene that confronted him with satisfied eyes.
“Well?” he said to Julie. “You see, you did have things to say to one another.”
Pilar moved away and sat down again. “Uncle Felipe, what will happen, do you suppose? I mean, will it all work out?”
“Of course, Pilar my love. The trouble with you is that you always anticipate the worst, and I think Julie is a little like that, too. She is afraid to believe that she is not of as little consequence as she thinks, and you are prepared to believe that your father has only been caring for you all these years as a whim, and that should he ever find a woman, who – well, he could love, he would turn on you as your mother did, and become indifferent to your happiness. Oh, Pilar, you ought to have more sense!”
Julie shook her head. “Felipe, you have my head spinning. Surely it’s immaterial now what happened between Pilar and myself? It’s been obvious from the beginning that since he was admitted to hospital, Manuel has had no strong desire to see me. If he had, he wouldn’t have allowed you to fob me off with excuses about his recovering before I saw him.”
Felipe smiled rather mockingly, and then shook his head.
“Julie, you couldn’t be more wrong. I told Manuel you didn’t want to see him as soon as he was strong enough to take the news.”
“You told him what!” Julie was flabbergasted. “But why?”
“Because i
t’s true,” said Pilar sulkily. “Why else did you tell Uncle Felipe such a thing?”
“But I didn’t,” denied Julie hotly. “Felipe, you know I wanted to see him. I asked if I could.”
Felipe nodded. “I know.” He patted her shoulder. “Don’t get so angry, my dear. I did it for your own good, and it appears my psychology paid off. You have heard what Pilar has had to say. Why do you think she said it? Because, my dear Julie, Manuel is so angry with her and blames her for you refusing to see him. He is well aware of your imminent departure for England, but he also knows that he is not a free agent, and apart from his recovery from this accident, he has contracts to fulfil and it may be some months before he can free himself to go to England to find you again, and in that time, anything could happen.”
Pilar was staring at Felipe. “You mean Julie hasn’t refused to see my father after all?”
“That’s correct,” Felipe laughed. “So you see, Pilar, you have nothing to worry about. Can’t you see Julie is absolutely furious with me?”
Julie twisted her hands together. “Oh, Felipe, why did you do it?”
“Because it has done my arrogant brother a power of good lying helpless in a hospital bed knowing that the girl he most desires does not desire him.”
Julie felt a rising sense of excitement inside her.
“And when may I see him?”
“When you like. Tonight, if you want to.”
Julie clasped her elbows with clammy hands. “Do you mean it?”
“Of course. But we’ll have dinner first, h’mm?”
“I couldn’t eat a thing,” confessed Julie candidly. She looked at Pilar. “Will you come, too?”
“No.” Pilar shook her head. “Not tonight. I… I think it would be as well if you saw him alone.”
It was the nearest words to friendliness she could muster so suddenly, but Julie felt it would come. It had to!
“Very well,” said Felipe. “Shall we go? Pilar can wait the few minutes until I return.”
The Stafford Infirmary was big and new and modern, and a vastly different place from the Seamen’s Mission Hospital. Manuel had a private room on the third floor, and Felipe, who was well-known at the hospital, took her up himself. It was a little after eight, and he told her that Manuel would have had his meal, and would probably be watching television.