by Jane Corrie
Serena looked away and concentrated her gaze on a lovely purple blossom entwined on a trellis running the length of the low patio wall. 'I was so grateful to him,' she went on tonelessly. 'But when I found out what he was up to, encouraging Mother to splash out like that, I was furious with him—still am, as a matter of fact. He knows how much I hate being in debt to anyone,' she sighed. 'He's often told me I'm too independent, but someone in the family has to watch points if we're to keep our heads above water.'
'And your mother is in New York now, is she?' Mrs Tonetti asked.
Serena nodded. 'Yes, I told her to go on ahead. She's all right on her own, we've several friends there and they'll look after her until I join her on Saturday. Roger will be free by then, too. The cruise starts the following Monday—that reminds me, I ought to cable her and tell her I won't be joining her until the weekend. She was expecting me tomorrow.'
'Do so right away, then,' urged Mrs Tonetti. 'Use the phone.'
After Serena had made the call she rejoined her hostess on the patio, remarking cheerfully, 'You're right, it is a small island! Whoever took the cable was consumed with curiosity about me. She knew where I was speaking from and short of actually asking me who I was and why I was here, she tried everything else in the book! I didn't give my surname, just signed the cable Serena.'
Mrs Tonetti chuckled and all but clapped her hands. 'That would have been Beryl Johnson, I'm sure. By this evening it will have got round the whole island that I have a visitor named Serena. I wonder if they'll guess who you are?'
'Oh, dear, does that mean you'll have floods of visitors tomorrow?' Serena queried worriedly.
Mrs Tonetti chuckled again. 'No, dear, it's the ball tomorrow evening, remember? They'll know better than to expect me to entertain if I intend to go, and I shall let it be known that I will be present.'
'Oh, I see,' said Serena, not really seeing at all.
Nevertheless, she was slightly relieved, wanting to put off the actual moment of duplicity as long as possible.
'I've been thinking,' Mrs Tonetti remarked consideringly. 'When you were sending off the cable, it occurred to me that your best course would be to invent another young man. This Roger of yours would have to give up the pursuit if you found someone else, wouldn't he? You could even make that your excuse for not joining them until Saturday,' she added brightly.
Serena found herself chuckling. 'You're incorrigible,' she scolded gently. 'Soon I'll be as bad as you are.' Then she looked serious and slowly shook her head. 'It wouldn't work, I'm afraid. You don't know Roger. I'd not only have to present the mythical young man but show him an engagement ring to boot I The only reason I've been left in peace for a few days is because he doesn't know which island I'm staying on. When Mother gets that cable I expect to hear from him directly. If it weren't for the conference he'd be here on the next plane.'
Mrs Tonetti looked somewhat despondent, then brightened. 'Well, there's time enough yet, dear. We've several nice young men on the island and you just might meet the right one at the ball. I'm a firm believer in fate, as I believe I did tell you, and I'm sure it wasn't just chance that you picked this island to try and find a solution to your problems.'
Serena wished she could echo this sentiment, but was rather of the opinion that it had been sheer chance she had chosen the island—that, and the plain simple fact that she had liked the name of the island, for blue was her favourite colour, and she really didn't think fate had much to do with it at all.
Mrs Tonetti retired after lunch, leaving Serena free to explore the gardens, kept in such immaculate order by Thomas, Molly's brother. She told Serena, 'He comes every day for a few hours, and he should be around somewhere, so do ask him anything you want to know. He's immensely proud of his work and rightly so.'
As she strolled through the grounds Serena looked back at the chalet, admiring the way the building sat on its elevated position overlooking one of the many small bays that surrounded this island paradise. It was quite a large establishment and she did wonder why Mrs Tonetti had chosen it. A cottage or a smaller bungalow would have been ample for her wants, she thought, particularly as she had decided to retire there.
The gardens sloped gently down a terraced incline and Serena found Thomas, or to be more precise, Thomas found her admiring some huge purple convolvulus. The blooms were at least three inches in diameter and absolutely begged for attention. Serena was able to recognise a lot of the flowers and the variety surprised her. With delight she spotted species of honeysuckle, its sweet perfume drifted towards her as she stood admiring a mass of brilliant orange nasturtiums thinking with wonder of their English counterparts that seemed to be almost dull in comparison, a poor relation indeed to these exotic blooms. Such was the case of each species she recognised, the flowers larger, the colour intensified to an almost translucent beauty.
One plant evaded her and she asked Thomas its name. It had large fleshy leaves and pendulous flowers of a green and purple colour and grew in profusion, appearing every now and again in between the riot of flowers and seemed to act as a foil for their brilliance. 'What is that plant, Thomas?' she asked.
Thomas, unlike his sister, was tall and thin, and a little shy, but eager to be helpful. He gave Serena a grin that showed white even teeth. 'Don't rightly know, missy, but we call them Poppers.'
Serena frowned. 'What an odd name,' she commented. 'Must be an abbreviation of the botanical name.'
Thomas grinned again and picked up his spade. 'See, missy,' he said, and selected a large bud of the plant on the point of opening, and to Serena's surprise gave it a sharp tap with the spade. The next moment there was a loud crack sounding like a mild explosion in the sultry stillness of the garden.�
'Good gracious!' commented Serena. 'It ought to be called "crackers"!'
Thomas accompanied her on the rest of the tour of the gardens. The rear garden was, if anything, more beautifully laid out than the front. Terraces with frangipani-entwined arches covered the walks. Here shrubs were more in evidence, all in full flower and forming partitions from one section of - the garden to another.
It was at the end of the grounds that they came across the part of the garden that Serena fell in love with. The lawns had been replaced by a small paved courtyard, and a rose-like flower grew in profusion on trellises surrounding the area. In the middle of the courtyard stood a lovely statue of a nymph holding an urn on one graceful shoulder. Serena stood entranced. There was peace in this corner of the garden and she sensed it was somehow special. The layout inevitably reminded her of Italian gardens and their love of courtyards and neatness combined with beauty. She felt she knew now why Mrs Tonetti had chosen this particular place to retire to. She sighed; it made her feel a little sad, for it was obvious that the old lady had loved her husband very much.
Her thoughts were communicated to Thomas. 'Mr Tonetti, he came here often,' he said, and indicated a small covered archway with seating accommodation for two. 'Now, only Missus come.'
Serena looked at Thomas in surprise. 'Did you know Mr Tonetti, Thomas?'
Thomas nodded. 'He and Missus come every year for holiday. Always have this place. Boss said keep it for Mrs Tonetti.'
She frowned. Boss? did he mean Mr Tonetti?
Thomas's next words answered her unspoken question. 'Plenty like to get this place. Mrs Simpson always on at Boss, wants to buy it, but Boss likes Mrs Tonetti, he won't sell.'
Things were getting a little clearer to Serena now. No wonder Mrs Tonetti didn't like Mrs Simpson, and vice versa! Mrs Simpson was obviously put out because this boss, whoever he was, preferred to have Mrs Tonetti as a paying guest rather than receive hard cash at what Serena surmised would be a fabulous figure. Properties in this part of the world could rise to almost astronomical heights.
CHAPTER THREE
Wednesday evening and Serena's debut as Mrs Tonetti's granddaughter came all too soon for her. She had enjoyed two days of idyllic peace and cosy chats with her charming hostess, to whom S
erena was growing very attached.
Now the time had come for her to fulfill her promise, and as she dressed for the ball she found herself wondering how she had ever let herself be talked into the masquerade in the first place. It was too late now to back out and she would have hated herself for trying, but she couldn't help wishing Mrs Tonetti would decide to call the whole thing off.
Upbraiding herself for her cowardice, Serena gave her attention to the dress she would wear and eventually chose the deceptively simple velvet one of midnight blue with long full sleeves buttoning at the wrists. The dress clung to her slender figure and the neck not too low, dipped into a sedate V which emphasised the creamy whiteness of her neck. Her only ornament was a long gold filigree chain necklet of flowers and leaves entwined. This had been her father's gift on her twenty-first birthday and was her favourite piece of jewellery.
Before joining Mrs Tonetti, Serena gave herself one last critical inspection; her glance passed down the dress to the gold sandals on her feet, she then stood back from the mirror to get a glimpse of the overall effect and frowned as an odd sensation swept over her. She didn't feel at all real and her reflection solemnly staring back at her accentuated this feeling. She had left her hair long and parted in the middle, and it fell in a dark cloud on her shoulders to frame her pale features. Her eyes looked enormous and she wondered whether she ought to have chosen a slightly darker eye-shadow instead of the greenish-blue one that appeared to highlight her eyes so much. She wasn't sure whether it was the dress that gave her such a wraithlike appearance, almost, she mused, as if she had stepped out of medieval times, making her feel there should have been a knight in attendance somewhere.
She grimaced at her reflection. Bizarre situations brought bizarre thoughts, didn't they? and shrugged impatiently, she was just being fanciful. Taking a deep breath she collected her stole and evening bag. It was all in keeping with her role; models were supposed to stand out in a crowd. These thoughts brought her no comfort, and as she walked towards the lounge to join Mrs Tonetti, the first pangs of nervousness assailed her and her fingers gripped her evening bag more firmly. She must remember to give Mrs Simpson a wide berth, prom all she had heard of that lady she was the most formidable obstacle she was likely to meet.
Mrs Tonctti sat quietly awaiting her and did not at first see Serena as she entered the room. Serena saw she was lost in thought and a hope that she might be considering changing her mind about going through with the deception sprang into life. Her plain black silk dress, relieved only by a single string of pearls, drew added attention to her fragility and Serena was on the point of asking her whether it might not be a good idea to forgo the ball, when Mrs Tonetti became aware of her presence and gave a gasp of delight. 'Oh, my dear,' she said softly. 'Paris —Pierre, it couldn't be anyone else!'
Serena's brows rose. For an old lady she certainly knew about fashion I She nodded. 'Yes, but how…' she began.
Mrs Tonetti smiled. 'We lived in Paris for a while not long after we were married,' she explained. 'Pierre was a special friend of ours, he was only just beginning in those days, but I'd know his creations anywhere. You know,' she added wistfully, 'I only wish he could see you in that gown. He must have had you in mind when he created it.'
The sound of a car drawing up in front of the house put an end to the conversation, and to any hope Serena was secretly nursing about a cancellation. Mrs Tonetti picked up her wrap and Serena placed it over her shoulders for her. 'Thank you, my dear,' she smiled, and sniffed appreciatively. 'I'm a little behind with the perfumes,' she said with twinkling eyes. 'But I like it, whatever it is. Now, are you ready for the fray?' she asked brightly as they moved towards the door.
Serena's stomach started churning again, but she put a brave face on it and managed to smile back at her. 'I only hope I don't let you down,' she replied, trying to sound airy about it.
Mrs Tonetti patted her arm. 'Of course you won't, and if anything does go wrong, and I really don't see how it could, it will be entirely my own fault. I ought to have known better.' She gave Serena a wicked look and added conspiratorially, 'Isn't it exciting? I wouldn't have missed it for worlds!'
As they left the chalet Serena couldn't help wishing once again that she had more of her mother's character in her, not to mention courage!
The car waiting to convey them to their destination was an opulent Rolls, and not an early model either, in fact the very latest on the market, Serena suspected, but surely a little unusual to be used as a taxi service she thought.
'Jordan's, dear,' Mrs Tonetti supplied in answer to Serena's unspoken query. 'So kind of him, isn't it?'
A thin wiry man detached himself from the driving seat and walked towards them.
'Good evening, Jake,' greeted Mrs Tonetti. 'This is my granddaughter, Serena.' She turned to Serena.
'Jake is Jordan's jack-of-all-trades, almost as useful as my Molly, eh, Jake?'
Serena caught the flash of white teeth at this gentle raillery, but could see little else of the man as he stood in the shadows. He spoke in a soft singsong voice and she hazarded a guess that he was probably Polynesian. 'Pleased to meet you, Miss Serena.'
During the short ride, Mrs Tonetti inquired solicitously after Jake's wife and family, and all, it appeared, were doing well. During this exchange Serena was able to follow her own thoughts, and she thought of Jordan Kerr. The more she heard about him, the more she warmed to the man. He must be extremely busy, but he found time to see to the welfare of an old lady—not that Mrs Tonetti was just any old lady, she was a sweetie, but nevertheless not many in his position would bother. Suddenly she was sure that if anything did go wrong with the proposed scheme she had only to tell the truth and he would see that Mrs Tonetti received no backlash. On these thoughts Serena's fears slipped away from her. She could now go on to join her mother and Roger in New York with the comforting knowledge that all would be well. As the car swept down a long bordered drive and drew up in front of an imposing mansion, she found herself actually looking forward to the evening's entertainment.
The strains of dance music drifted towards them as they mounted the stone steps to the entrance of the house. Serena looked about her with interest. Two stone pillars supported the ground entrance porch and lighting from the open windows limelighted the bordering flowering shrubs flanking the entrance. Bougainvillaea in brilliant colours crept round the stone verandah and two stone nymphs holding urns of yet more exotic blossoms stood cither side of the great studded doors of the house, now thrown open to welcome guests. For a moment Serena stood inhaling the perfume-laden air, then noting the fact that they were alone with no other guests either arriving or in the immediate vicinity, she asked, 'Are we very late?'
Taking her arm and leading her into the house, Mrs Tonetti replied, 'A little late, yes, dear.'
A young West Indian girl in a brightly coloured sarong drifted towards them one slender arm extended to take their stoles. 'Ah, May,' greeted Mrs Tonetti smilingly. 'We shall be going early, dear, so leave them somewhere handy, won't you?'
The special smile the girl gave in answer proved once again to Serena that Mrs Tonetti was not only respected but well liked by the islanders.
Giving Serena a mischievous look, Mrs Tonetti murmured, 'Now for it! Don't worry about our being the last to arrive, Jordan knows I tire easily. We'll only stay an hour or so, just so everybody sees you.' She gave Serena an apologetic look. 'Of course, my dear, if you're enjoying yourself we'll stay longer.'
As they walked down a long richly carpeted corridor, Serena hastily replied, 'I shall be quite ready to leave whenever you are. I'll be on tenterhooks in case I say the wrong thing,' adding tentatively, 'I rather feel it might be better if I acted dumb, you know.'
Mrs Tonetti looked slightly alarmed at this pronouncement, and Serena grinned. 'Perhaps what I should have said was quiet, not talkative, I mean.'
The increasing volume of music told Serena they were almost at their destination, and they were. The double door
s of the large room opened on to a galaxy of colour. All the colours of the rainbow seemed to be represented by the gowns worn by the women, their displayed jewellery flashing as they were pirouetted round the dance floor by their no less resplendently dressed partners.
As she entered the room Serena felt slightly bemused. The ballroom was magnificent and dated back several centuries, although one would never have realised this by its present decor. The walls were hung with rich tapestry depicting scenes of what Serena presumed to be the island's history. One huge exquisite chandelier hung from the centre of the ceiling, its glittering light throwing out sparks that scintillated over a deep purple, intricately moulded ceiling, giving it a fascinating pattern no decorator could hope to emulate.
Although many of the guests were dancing to the strains of a waltz played by a small orchestra seated on a dais at the end of the vast room, Serena could feel the curiosity their entrance had aroused, and was sure Mrs Tonetti was just as aware of it as she was, for she laid a comforting hand on Serena's arm and led her down the room.
The carefree attitude Serena had talked herself into in the car on the way to the ball deserted her, and the pangs of nervousness returned with interest. Her throat felt dry and she was absolutely certain she would ruin the whole plan within minutes of her entry. She couldn't understand why they all seemed to be staring at her. She swallowed hastily and chided herself for her heightened sensitivity. The trouble was she had a guilty conscience and was dramatising the whole thing, and if she didn't pull herself together soon she really would spoil everything. After giving herself a good talking to, she was almost composed by the time they reached a small knot of people and the first introductions began.
Mrs Tonetti was greeted with much enthusiasm, and remarks were made such as how nice it was to see her at a social function. After solicitous inquiries about her health had been exhausted, Serena was introduced. She shook hands with them and before a general topic of conversation could be introduced, found herself whisked away by Mrs Tonetti and on to the next group.