Judith kept her promise, not only to please Honor, but because she was sadly out of practice. The wound on her head, though healed, throbbed after only a short distance at even a moderate pace, and she went back home feeling more out of sorts than ever, and decided to take a bath.
While she was rinsing the conditioner from her hair she heard the telephone. To her surprise Honor was still on the 'phone ten minutes later. Eyebrows raised Judith made coffee and carried the mugs into the other room just as Honor was saying goodbye.
'Martin,' said Honor, her cheeks rather pink.
Judith's eyes sparkled. 'Getting rather thick, you two!'
'He was reporting on the latest news of Rafael—not from the hospital. He'd heard from Robin Mellor, Rafael's agent.'
Judith sat down, her eyes questioning. 'How is he?'
'Pretty much the same, apparently. He's very concerned.'
'Do you think Rafael knows something he's not letting on, Honor?'
'That's exactly what Martin's afraid of.' Honor bit her lip. 'And apparently Rafael's not coming here to convalesce, after all.'
Judith felt sick with disappointment, and it showed.
'Oh,' she said blankly. 'That's—that's rather a change of plan, then.'
'It seems he needs to get away by himself for a bit, apparently. His engagements have been cancelled for a month anyway, so he's going to take a holiday, according to Mr Mellor.'
'Where?' asked Judith involuntarily.
'Martin doesn't know.'
'Spain, would you say?'
Honor shook her head. 'Too well known there. Gets mobbed everywhere he goes.'
'Well it's not really any business of ours,' said Judith dully. 'We hardly know him.'
'Forgive me, Judith, but I felt you got to know him a little better than you let on, however much you make noises to the contrary.' Honor's eyes were steady. 'Did you perhaps fall in love with him just a little bit?'
Judith turned away restlessly.
'In just a day or two? Come off it, Honor. You've been reading too many romances.'
Honor looked unconvinced.
'Those carnations were fairly romantic, wouldn't you say?'
'Absurd, you mean.' Judith shook her hair free and began combing through the damp strands, covering her face.
'Are you defensive because he's famous—a celebrity, Judith?' asked Honor curiously. 'Why are you so hell-bent on refusing to admit any attraction to him?'
Judith was still for a moment, then she threw back her hair and met Honor's eyes, her face flushed and her eyes stormy.
'All right. I do admit it. When he sang that thing from Carmen the hair stood up on the back of my neck—not because of his voice, to be blunt, but because he looked so damn' macho and, well, sexy, in that get up. Confident of his effect on every woman in the theatre, complete with that stupid knife in his belt. Sex and violence; the irresistible combination. All I could think of at the time was God help all the women susceptible to music as well!' She stopped, her colour higher, her face ablaze with self-derision.
Honor sat back in her chair. 'Go on,' she said quietly, 'get it off your chest.'
'When he walked over to me on the stage, with everyone looking on, to me it seemed he was still performing. Can you understand? I didn't like being part of the act. Then when I realised he was the man I ran into in the park—'
'What? You mean the one in the mask?' Honor's eyebrows shot into her hair.
Judith nodded moodily. 'Yes. That's why he singled me out like that; to apologise.'
'Oh, I see.'
'It seemed urgent to let him know I wasn't one of his adoring fans—all those musical groupies that seem to hang round him everywhere, according to the Press.'
It was news to Honor that Judith had ever read anything about Rafael at all before yesterday's item on his hospitalisation. 'So you ran for home,' she said.
Judith gave a hard little laugh. 'The big joke, though, is that when I saw this man coming behind me I thought it was him—Rafael, for a split second; the great man himself, running after Judith Russell! I was brought down to earth pretty sharply, wasn't I? Quite literally!'
Honor touched Judith's hand soothingly. 'But darling, Rafael isn't exactly, well, how shall I put it— immune to your own particular attraction, shall we say? I can vouch for that personally. When he saw you lying unconscious—'
'I know, I know,' said Judith impatiently. 'You've told me he went all Latin and dramatic, but that illustrates exactly what I'm saying. Melodrama is his daily bread. How could one ever possibly know if he were really sincere?'
'When one knew him well enough, presumably.' Honor hesitated, then asked carefully, 'The evening you spent together at Gresham House, did you—I mean was there—'
'We walked in the garden,' said Judith evenly, 'and we sat in that rather fictitious looking pergola in the dusk. On a loveseat. Instead of singing a duet, as could reasonably be expected with such a setting, we told each other our life stories, and then the talking stopped and the lovemaking began. It would have progressed in a hurry to its natural conclusion, too, only he threw me down on the grass with rather too much enthusiasm and I hit my sore head. Saved by the bell, as it were. I was so crumpled and disreputable by this time that I had no alternative but to go to bed as an excuse to take off my dress. It was a mess. I wasn't ill at all when you came in, just suffering from frustrated libido!' Tears welled up in Judith's dark eyes, and began to trickle down her cheeks. 'And I haven't seen him since, Honor, or heard from him except for those damned carnations, and—and it hurts!'
'Oh, darling!' Honor rocked her in her arms, at a loss for a way to give comfort.
Judith pulled a crumpled wad of tissues from her pocket and mopped at her eyes. 'I thought I would at least be able to see him if he came back here, but now— now perhaps I'll never see him again.'
CHAPTER SIX
Afterwards Judith was a little ashamed of her outburst, but in some ways it had acted as a necessary safety-valve for the feelings built up inside her like steam in a boiler. Unfortunately the aftermath was a bleak, desolate limbo, with no more daily carnations and no idea of where in the world Rafael might have taken himself off to lick his wounds. It was the not knowing which was so hard to bear. In vain she kept telling herself this feeling would eventually disappear and she would get over Rafael in time. A few hours together, a confidence or two, even some admittedly impassioned lovemaking, could hardly be counted as reasons for Rafael to reveal his whereabouts to her, much less his plans for the future. Reason with herself as much as she liked, Judith was nevertheless bitterly hurt by his silence, and had difficulty in hiding the fact from Honor.
As an antidote Judith threw herself into her work with whole-hearted concentration, trying to sublimate her hurt in sheer physical effort, and to some extent succeeded. Her leisure hours were more of a problem, with no Rob to help pass the time. Not that she missed Rob. Already it was difficult for Judith to remember him as anything but a passing acquaintance, even though he'd been her constant companion for almost a year and shared a great deal of common interests, both professional and social. By contrast the time spent with Rafael was minimal, yet he remained immovable in her mind, the memory of his lovemaking haunting her dreams. Diligently though Judith worked at trying to forget him, it was like giving up breathing for all the success she had.
Eventually Judith's annual holiday was due, and listlessly she mulled over the best way to spend it.
'Do you want to borrow the car? It's just passed its M.O.T. again,' said Honor.
'Could you spare it for a whole fortnight?' Judith's face lit up. 'That's exactly what I'd like. I could tour around a bit, and now the season's just about over I should be able to get bed and breakfast in most places, I think.'
'Where do you fancy?'
'I don't know. Not as far as Scotland; the Lake District maybe, or Wales.'
Next morning over breakfast and the Sunday papers Honor gave a little gasp and handed over a section of
her paper to Judith. There was a short announcement in the arts section to the effect that due to indisposition Rafael David would not be appearing in the scheduled performance of Carmen the following month, and was resting indefinitely on the advice of his doctors. Judith met Honor's eyes in distress.
'What is the matter with him, Honor? Doesn't Martin know anything?'
Honor shook her head.
'He knows where Rafael is, but he's promised faithfully to keep the location secret. All he will say is that Rafael's operation was completely successful; nothing malignant, if that's what's troubling you.'
'Everything's troubling me,' said Judith fiercely. 'But if he wants to play Garbo there's not much point in beating my head against a brick wall, is there? Never mind, I'm off on my travels on Saturday, thanks to my kind, lovely sister, and by the time I come back I promise faithfully I'll have driven the wretched man right out of my system—literally!'
'Big words, love. Let's hope you're right.' Honor smiled doubtfully.
'And while I'm away you can ask Martin round for cosy little candle-lit dinners, can't you?' Judith smiled naughtily. 'While the cat's away, and all that!'
'He's taking me out to the theatre tomorrow night, in fact,' said Honor, magnificently casual.
'Is he now!'
'Henry the Fifth, at the R.S.C.'
'You've kept that quiet!'
'He only got the tickets yesterday—from a friend who can't go, so he's taking me, which is nice.' Honor smiled ruefully. 'I didn't say anything last night, because you were—'
'Such a moaning misery,' interrupted Judith in remorse. 'I'll be better from now on, I promise. Have a lovely time tomorrow, darling.'
It was after one in the morning by the time Honor returned home after her night out. Nevertheless she went straight up to Judith's room and shook her gently.
'Judith, wake up.'
Judith scrambled upright in bed, rubbing her eyes. She peered at her watch indignantly. it's past one— what's the matter? Something wrong?'
'No, no, nothing wrong. Sorry about the time, but I couldn't wait until the morning.'
'Martin's proposed!'
'Don't be silly, of course not,' said Honor, put out. it is a sort of message from Martin, though.'
Judith's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'Oh yes? What sort of message?'
'He told me to say that the west coast of Wales is very beautiful, if you're undecided where to spend your holiday.' Honor met Judith's eyes very directly. 'He said not to miss a village called Morfa. There are a few of these dotted about Wales, I gather, but this one's on the coast somewhere between Aberystwyth and Cardigan.'
Judith looked at her in speculation.
'Does it have some special feature to recommend it, this Morfa?'
'Martin wouldn't say another word, so I didn't press him. He must think you'll like it there, I suppose.' Honor paused in the doorway. 'He did mention a nice pub where you might get a room. It's called the Anchor.' She smiled and said good night, leaving Judith very thoughtful as she settled back against her pillows. If this was where Rafael had gone to ground Martin obviously thought it a good idea for her to follow, to see how he was. Martin had kept his word in a way, not mentioning Rafael's name at all, merely extolling the virtues of Morfa. Even so, the possibility of Rafael's pleasure at seeing her, even if she did find him, seemed remote. Two brief encounters, a few kisses; hardly the basis for a relationship of any kind. But argue with herself as much as she liked, Judith knew very well that wild horses wouldn't keep her away from Morfa now. The trick would be to convince Rafael her presence there was a coincidence when she found him—and find him she would, or perish in the attempt.
Early Saturday morning Judith packed the car with a suitcase full of sensible clothes, added her Barbour jacket and green rubber boots, a cagoule and a bag of books and kissed Honor goodbye.
'Be good,' she told her cheerfully.
'And you be careful,' warned Honor. 'Did you remember a map?'
'Yes. I've tried to remember everything. I'll ring you from—wherever I get to tonight.' She smiled. They both knew very well Judith would be in Morfa by nightfall even if she had to walk there.
She rather wished she had as she guided the Morris at a snail's pace down the five miles of hairpin bends that led down from the main road to Morfa, which lay in a cove, a little nick in the coastline of Cardigan Bay. It was peaceful and very pleasing to the eye, she found, as the Morris squeezed down the steep road between sparkling clean cottages bright with immaculate paint. The commercial attractions appeared to consist only of a village shop, a small café with buckets and spades on sale, and finally the Anchor itself, a solid, weathered building crouched foursquare on the edge of the beach, looking out on a panorama of pebble-fringed sand and sculptured cliffs, with the blue sea beyond. Behind the inn the road rose sharply upwards again to disappear round the curves of fern-carpeted hillside which sheltered the Anchor from the east wind.
As Judith looked at the inn she felt a pang of doubt. It was by no means large, and if it were full there was no other place in Morfa to spend the night. Judith parked the Morris in the small car park adjoining the Anchor and got out, feeling stiff and hot. She went through the door of the pub, finding herself in a narrow passage separating two bars. The main, public bar lay to the left, already fairly full, and to the right lay the snug, more comfortable but less cheerful, and empty except for a quiet elderly couple gazing at the view over two glasses of lager. As she hesitated a door opened at the end of the passage and a thickset dark man emerged with a tray loaded with glasses. Hoping he was the landlord Judith smiled at him and said good evening.
'I was told you might be able to put me up,' she said hopefully.
'And who told you that, then, my lovely?' The man smiled back jovially. 'I'm happy to say we've been full up ever since Easter.'
Judith smiled ruefully. 'I should have realised, I suppose. Being late in the season I hoped—'
'Wait a minute, though.' He scratched his head. 'I might manage something.' He called up the narrow stairway. 'Mair! Is anything spare tonight?'
'Yes, Dad,' called a young, lilting voice. 'I told you when the beer dray was here—didn't you hear me? The Prossers arrived this afternoon without their eldest son; only the little ones are with them. The top room is spare.'
'There you are then, Miss …' He turned back to Judith expectantly.
'Russell,' said Judith, smiling radiantly. 'Thank you so much. I had no idea where to go otherwise—I'm very grateful, Mr—'
'Owen Morris is my name. I run the place with the help of my family. My wife does the cooking—nothing fancy, mind, and Mair and Gareth help in the bar and the house. How long were you wanting to stay, then?'
'Could you manage two weeks?'
'Right you are. Only a small room, mind. I'll get Mair to show you once we've seen to your luggage.'
The room was small, right up under the eaves, with a single bed, a wardrobe, a small dressing table and stool, all crammed in under the sloping ceiling, but the window had a wonderful view, the mattress was comfortable and covered by a woven Welsh quilt, and the entire room was scrupulously clean. Judith smiled warmly at the pretty teenager who'd shown her up.
'A bit small,' said the girl apologetically. 'Supper's ready when you are. Mam won't call it dinner—says that's too posh, but she's a good cook, I promise.'
Judith hurried down to the bathroom on the floor below for a quick wash, then dashed back upstairs to put on a clean white shirt and black linen trousers before going in search of supper. The small dining room was full, only a very small table near the door obviously waiting for Judith. She tucked into her meal with enthusiasm. After dinner she hesitated, wondering if it were the done thing in these parts for a woman to sit alone in the public bar, but her problem was solved by an invitation to join the pleasant young couple at the next table, Tony and Carol Thomas, both teachers from Cardiff. They had been there for a week, and were able to supply Judith with a lot of u
seful information.
'What lies up the hill behind the pub?' she asked, accepting the lager Tony bought her.
'A very nice walk, or climb, rather. It's steep, but worth it at the top, the view's marvellous,' said Tony.
Judith made them drink up so she could pay for the next round of drinks, and offered one to Owen Morris behind the bar. He accepted readily.
'Couldn't help overhearing your conversation, Miss Russell. Not a reporter are you?'
Judith laughed. 'Afraid not. I'm a physiotherapist, actually.!
'I thought you might be after our celebrity.'
Judith swallowed a mouthful of lager. 'No,' she said steadily. 'I didn't know you had one.'
Tony leaned forward, grinning. 'Maybe she's not keen on music, Owen, being English. She may not have heard of Brynmor Tudor.'
Judith had heard of the Welsh baritone, but only vaguely, and for a moment her disappointment was keen. Then she dismissed it. Rafael would hardly take the trouble to hide himself down here and then broadcast the fact to the world at large.
'Brynmor Tudor lives here in Morfa, then?' she asked.
'The big house behind the stone walls at the top of the hill. Says he can shout his head off up there and not disturb a soul—pity you missed him, he was here about a week or so ago, then he went off to Cardiff,' said Owen.
Although she joined in the general conversation with the friendly company in the bar Judith's mind was secretly working furiously. Perhaps Rafael and Brynmor Tudor were friends. It seemed likely; they moved in the same musical circles, and perhaps it was his house that was Rafael's retreat. She would do her best to find out at the first possible opportunity. At stop-tap she went up to her little attic room, feeling tired after the long journey and the substantial meal provided by Mrs Morris. The bed proved to be as comfortable as it looked, and she fell asleep quite quickly, comforted by the thought that maybe Rafael was somewhere close at hand, wherever it was.
After a large breakfast Judith dressed in a fleece-lined track-suit over shorts and a sleeveless top, and began to climb the hill behind the Anchor, striding easily along the road that wound up the hill like a helter-skelter slide around its tower. After a while the road levelled out slightly and meandered along the cliff, giving a breathtaking view of the sea below, the water changing colour like a chameleon as the wind blew clouds across the washed blue of the sky.
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