Island Of Pearls

by Margaret Rome

  "How can I help Tio?" she asked, round-eyed with amazement.

  "Well," Hazel's tone suggested the sharing of a confidence, "you know how very late he works each night in his study, and how seldom he seems able to snatch even an hour's relaxation during the day?" Carmen nodded. "I thought," surreptitiously she crossed her fingers for luck, "we might play a little trick on him. By accepting his offer of instruction we can prevent him from overworking, but he will do this only if we pretend to be desperate for his help."

  "You mean he'll think he's doing us a favour while all the time we will be helping him?" Carmen clapped her hands, ecstatic at the idea of outwitting her uncle. "Yes, let's do it, Hazel. Let's play a trick on Tio!"

  Francisco was visibly surprised by the welcome he

  received from his niece when half an hour later he joined them on the beach. Hazel averted her eyes, overcome by shyness, when his lithe, firmly muscled body, with tan contrasting superbly against black swimming briefs, appeared striding yards off the distance separating them. But Carmen had no inhibitions - an exciting new game was about to begin! With a squeal of pleasure she ran to meet him and was caught in surprised arms and swung high above his head. Hazel felt a thrill of sheer joy as she watched the laughing child wriggling in the arms of the man whose startled expression became softened with indulgence as he savoured for the first time the approval of his small charge. Above Carmen's head he searched for Hazel, directing towards her such a grimace of helplessness she forgot her shyness and went immediately to his aid. Carmen was laying on affection with a trowel, throwing herself into the skin of the part, but the danger of Francisco becoming suspicious had to be averted.

  "Race you to the sea!" Hazel challenged, beginning to run, a flower-patterned bikini adding stem-slimness to her golden limbs.

  "Quickly, quickly, Tio! We mustn't let her win, run, run ...!"

  It took him a split second to discard the cloak of aloofness with which he seemed always to be surrounded and the chase began. With Carmen still in his arms, exhorting him to greater speed, he followed with a swiftness of pace that brought him level in seconds. Excitement coursed wildly through Hazel's veins as his hard-muscled body flashed past her into the sea, then, impelled by uncontrollable impetus, she

  followed, hitting the shallows with a splash that left her breathless. But when she surfaced her efforts were rewarded by the sight of Carmen, her arms tight around her uncle's neck, sobbing with delight, "We won, Tio, we won, and Hazel was ever so far in front!"

  For a second his glance razed her blithe features before he observed dryly, "I'm not sure Hazel isn't enjoying a private victory of her own." But severity did not suit a face brown and sea-washed, with hair rioting in wet spirals above twinkling eyes, so he relented far enough to send her a smile, startling white against brown features, before heading out into deeper water carrying Carmen, half thrilled, half terrified, to begin her lesson.

  Hazel found it astonishingly easy, when her turn came around, to forget her shyness and to accept as natural his light touch upon her bare shoulders and arms as he positioned her correctly before encouraging her to venture upon the stroke he had so patiently demonstrated. She was a complete novice, and nervous of encountering unfamiliar marine species she suspected might be lurking in the water, but when he scoffed at her fears to the extent of throwing back his head and laughing unrestrainedly she felt childish and even a little indignant.

  "I saw some horrible objects once, pickled in alcohol and displayed in glass jars on the shelves of a pub in Gateshead. I was visiting a girl friend - her father was the licensee - and it was he who showed me the sea creatures he had collected from distant waters during his years in the Navy. They were revolting! Slimy and green - some even had tentacles!"

  "I understand." When she surveyed him crossly he choked back a laugh and assumed an air of gravity. "Will you take my word you are in no danger of being stung by a king ray or grabbed by an octopus? We are still in shallow water, and not even a delectable titbit such as yourself will tempt denizens of the deep so near to shore." Her suspicious look banished the twinkle from his eyes, but nevertheless she felt it was still near the surface when he held out his arms and suggested, "Would you like to try again?" Every pebble and frond showed through the crystal pure water, even her toes were visible, peeping through sand refined as grained sugar, and the lazy swell of sea was a cushion of blue temptation, far different from the angrily racing waves she had so often watched battering the grey rocks and hissing madly over the shingled beaches of home. Tentatively she nodded. Carmen was building a sand castle on the beach, content, now that her own lesson had gone so well, to play within earshot and to shout occasional encouragement in a tone so condescending that Hazel knew she would have to do better or else suffer the interminable advice of one whose skill has been proved.

  "Try floating," he suggested. "Lie on your back, completely relaxed, while I support your head with my hand. Ready?" It was heavenly; like a garland tossed to the waves, her body rose and fell with the movement of the sea, Francisco's hand a reassuring pillow, his voice murmuring encouragement as she lay contemplating a sky vacant of all but sun and puffs of cloud. "You're doing fine!" His voice seemed so far away her head swung immediately towards the

  sound. He had deserted her! Her relaxation had become so complete that she had not noticed the withdrawal of his steadying hand and to her horror she saw he was now two arms' length away, swimming around in a lazy circle.

  Panic screamed to her throat, as completely demoralized, she lost her head and began threshing the water. She felt herself being sucked under and opened her mouth to yell, only to choke on a rush of salt water. The deceptively somnolent ocean suddenly appeared as a greedy waste, teeming with strange shapes that were circling around waiting their chance to submerge her. She fought them with every ounce of strength, managing to rise above the waves long enough to scream before being plunged back into the hungry depths.

  "Don't fight me! Calm down, you're perfectly safe, I have you!" She clung to Francisco with terrified desperation, hampering his efforts to tow her ashore by clamping a grip tight as a vice around his neck. When he went limp and they both began to sink she released her grip upon his throat, enabling him, in that split second, to duck out of her deadly embrace. He barely had time to gulp in air before she clutched out again, but before her desperate hand could fasten she felt a blow that sent her rocketing down into black, bottomless depths.

  "Chiquita!" She wondered who he was addressing with such urgency. She wanted to open her eyes, but they felt heavy as sandbags, and as gritty. "Open your eyes, do you hear me? Sacramento! you must...!" Stupidly

  Hazel pondered on the exclamation that forced its way through the sound of rushing waters to penetrate her brain. But a violent shaking intruded upon her slow thought processes, bringing pain and light, and an overwhelming nausea. "Dio gracias! Be sick, niha, as sick as ever you want to be!" And she was, humiliat-ingly so, with a violence that left her drained and too exhausted to protest when he swung her up in his arms and began treading a path upwards in the direction of the Casa.

  Once there, servants were despatched with haste to run her bath, call a doctor, attend to an hysterical Carmen, and set out night attire for the sick Marquesa, who was to be bathed, then put to bed as quickly as possible. Even through her distress, she felt surprise at the terse, almost angry manner in which Francisco addressed his servants; his sharp commands ricocheted from walls and vaulted ceilings, sending up echoes to speed along the tardy who might just conceivably have missed interpreting his first demands. She tried a feeble protest, but was shushed to silence, then handed over to women whose eager hands ministered to her wants in the manner of handmaidens bidden to serve a queen. It went completely against her principles to allow such feudal servility, but the two women were so gentle and considerate, and independent effort really was so very much beyond her, that she murmured her gratitude and surrendered.

  Later, when Francisco entered he
r bedroom, he was accompanied by a doctor, a slightly built, handsome Spaniard whose cool hands soothed as he made his examination. Standing by the window, his back to-

  wards them, Francisco questioned tersely, "Well, doctor, how is she ?"

  Hazel blushed as she read in the doctor's smile understanding of the strain which he so often encountered from anxious husbands. "The rest of today in bed and a light diet - no solids and no excitement. Tomorrow she will be as fit as ever."

  She jerked upright when Francisco objected, "What, no medicina ? No special instructions ? Forgive me, but I think perhaps another opinion ..."

  The doctor shrugged, but his smile held no offence. "Of course, if you wish it, but I assure you it is not necessary."

  "It certainly isn't!" Hazel croaked indignantly, sending a plea for forgiveness to the doctor, who was snapping shut his case, preparing to depart. Her glance swivelled from the doctor and collided with Francisco's haughty stare. She shrank inwardly, wondering if the emotion he projected was genuine or just momentary dislike. His attitude was astonishing; never would she have believed herself capable of arousing within him such heated concern, but perhaps this was the way of Spanish aristocrats with their employees - to treat them on the one hand casually, almost as if they did not exist, then when trouble arose to elevate them to the status of family, making them then eligible to receive the bounty of the family's considerable resources. The Drach Family Health Service! Somehow a giggle escaped her, hiccoughing its way past unwary lips to emerge sounding slightly hysterical.

  The doctor had just left and Francisco swung round as if to call him back, but he hesitated beside her bed,

  brooding down at her small face, a delicate cameo glowing pale against a background of heaped pillows with not a grain of gold visible in shadowed eyes. When his hand reached out to trace lightly across her cheek she did not stir, but met his look, sensing a turmoil within that was preventing him from finding exactly the words he wished to speak. "I had to hit you, otherwise we both would have drowned."

  Hazel lifted a hand to her cheek, exploring the swelling, understanding only then that part of her pain was physical and not completely emotional as she had thought.

  "I'm glad you did," she smiled, eager to ease his remorse. "I owe you an apology - my foolish action placed us both in great danger." Her brow wrinkled as, quite involuntarily, she made aware her complete confidence in him. "I simply don't understand why I panicked - after all, I knew you were near." His tense jawline relaxed to make way for a smile. It was just as well he did not smile often, she thought; in repose his strongly etched features did strange things to her heart, but when he smiled his attraction was unbearable.

  "Thank you," he said, but his warm look promised more; it promised a lifting of hostilities, deeper understanding, and as his eyes lingered, enjoying the confusion that brought pale cheeks to life and golden glints to escape from under downcast lashes there came between them a current of awareness - a cloud of potential dynamite that needed but a spark to set it alight.

  The door burst open with a bang shattering to the nerves. Hazel sank back against her pillows, pallored by the shock of abruptly severed tension and feeling

  unbearably deprived by Francisco's abrupt withdrawal from her side.

  "Hazel, are you really feeling better? Did the doctor speak the truth .. . ?" Carmen flung herself on the bed, her impetuous Spanish strain uppermost, demanding to be reassured.

  "Get down, aprisa! How dare you have so little consideration for one so ill ?" Francisco glared at Carmen across the width of the bed, irate and impatient with the child whose relaxed upbringing was the cause of her so often behaving in a manner completely out of line with the standards expected of Spanish children. Her lips trembled as she looked to Hazel for guidance, the fun and companionship she had shared earlier with her uncle completely cancelled out by possessive jealousy as the perceptive child reacted to the attitude of change in the air.

  "Hazel is my special friend!" she challenged, tears tracing a course towards a fiercely jutting chin. Then, sounding the knell of Hazel's hopes in a childish treble, she attacked again. "It's your fault, all of it! We never wanted you to teach us to swim, we just pretended to want you to because Hazel suggested we should. We played a trick on you, Tio, but I don't want to play that game ever again if it means you'll be coming along to spoil our fun. I hate you, and so does Hazel! Tell him, Hazel, tell him . . . !"

  But Hazel could tell him nothing - he had gone.

  CHAPTER VIII

  For days afterwards they did not go near the beach and a very subdued Carmen made no demur. Hazel had scolded her severely, once, for her impudence to her uncle, but then had withdrawn into a shell of silent hurt which indicated to the child some small measure of the damage she had caused. Their two wan figures flitted from room to room, Carmen a constant shadow following in Hazel's wake, anxious for an opportunity to atone, but frustratingly unable to penetrate the cloud of misery surrounding her friend. Eventually, her pathetic eagerness to oblige became known to Hazel, and the realization brought shame. Dear, impulsive Carmen was in no way to blame for the widening gulf between herself and Francisco; her own devious plan which had misfired, and Francisco's arrogant pride which had driven him into seclusion were the culprits that had engineered the void of misunderstanding neither excuses nor explanations would bridge.

  It took great effort of will to pin on a smile and suggest brightly, "Let's go to the beach today, it's too warm indoors and there'll be a breeze nearer the sea." Carmen's expression of relief almost brought tears to Hazel's eyes, and the child's beam of pleasure, hastily subdued into a hesitant smile, made her vow never to reveal her newly born fear of the mass of blue water. A thrill of horror shot through her when quite unsuspectingly Carmen offered:

  "Shall I get the swimsuits? It won't take me a minute."

  "No!" Hazel recoiled from her own sharpness of tone, then took a grip upon her senses. "No, dear, we'll just laze today. Perhaps tomorrow ..." she petered out, ashamed of her cowardice, but happily Carmen was too preoccupied to notice.

  They had been settled on the beach no longer than half an hour when instinct warned her they were not alone. She looked up, shading her eyes, and had to choke back her heart that rose hammering to her throat when Francisco appeared, striding a path made golden by rays of sun. Like a majestic sun god he towered over her, casting a shadow across her face so that it appeared pinched and starved of vitality.

  "You are recovered?" he asked, the politeness of his tone contrasting oddly against sharp, examining eyes.

  "Yes, thank you," she quavered, digging her hands deep into the sand to hide their trembling.

  "Good, then we can continue with your lessons." He dropped down beside her, his action smooth, performed with athletic ease. Hazel groped for her sunglasses, the only shield she knew he would allow, and felt only slightly less vulnerable when she countered from behind their shade, "I don't want any more lessons, thank you. I prefer not to swim."

  He nodded, as if it was the answer he expected. "I came today for that very reason. If you do not enter the water now you will develop a fear that will haunt you all your life. I cannot allow that on my conscience, therefore I must insist you don your bathing suit so that we may continue your lessons immediately."

  "I haven't brought one!" she flashed, nervously aware of the futility of opposing his indomitable will.

  "Carmen!" He snapped his fingers and she came running. "Go to. the Casa and fetch your swimsuits, aprisa!"

  Hazel watched her small figure scurrying out of sight as if the crack of a whip was at her heels, then refused, tight-lipped, "I won't go in, you can't make me!" She almost felt the muscles of his will flexing, sensed his enjoyment of superior power, and wondered if the order he meant to enforce was his method of punishment. "Francisco, let me explain about the other day ..."

  "Don't bother," he crisped, rising to his feet so that sunlight camouflaged his features.

  "It was for you
r sake - and Carmen's," she tried again, desperate to make him understand so that even if they could never again recapture the happiness of those moments the memory of them at least would not be scarred. But he moved out of earshot, concentrating his attention upon a sheet of sail far on the horizon.

  "I'm here! I've got them!" Carmen hove into sight, already clad in her own prettily printed swimsuit, waving Hazel's scanty piece of green cotton above her head.

  "Be as quick as you can," he indicated briefly. "I have very little time to spare."

  Fear raced in hot and cold waves as Hazel fumbled her way into a one-piece suit, green-frilled, and light as her heart would never again be, before joining him at the water's edge with teeth chattering, eyes darkly enormous and a mouth a straight line of terror. She

  sent one last appealing look into a face which knew pity only as a stranger, then when no compassion stirred she closed her eyes and allowed him to lead her into the water.

  He came every day to the beach, coaching both her and Carmen until proficiency conquered fear and she was able to cleave fearlessly through the sea she was once convinced would become her shroud. But it would have been foolish to imagine any softening of attitude on his part; he came to fulfil a duty which was carried out with the efficient impartiality of a professional instructor. Only once did she make the mistake of trying to express gratitude, only to be cut by the snub, "Nominally, you are a part of my family - I hold myself responsible for your safety."

  It was both a relief and a pain when he pronounced himself satisfied with their progress. Carmen and she had formed the habit of taking a picnic basket with them to the beach, but although Hazel hopefully packed enough for three he always refused to join them. Until the last day. He watched her pouring chilled soup made from garlic, tomatoes, onion, green pepper and cucumber from a thermos, then accepted with the comment, "Ah, gazpachol You must have guessed my preference!" She had not guessed, she had asked in the kitchens, but he was not to know her smile hid satisfaction of her small deception. Crisp rolls with butter accompanied jamon serrano - sun-cured ham - then fresh strawberries pushed into peaks of ice cream ladled from a second wide-necked thermos, formed a meal that was to remain for ever a pleasant memory.