The Stars of San Cecilio Page 5

  ‘You mean that you have no one at all to look after you?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, there’s a woman who comes in to do the cleaning, and she does a certain amount of shopping for me, but I cook and do all the rest myself.’ He smiled at her. ‘You must come and have tea with me one day. ’

  ‘I’m afraid the local inhabitants would not approve of that. ’

  ‘Well, perhaps not,’ he agreed, grinning a little. ‘You’d have to bring a duenna with you, wouldn’t you? Then will you let me come and call upon you, wherever you’re staying?’

  In the end they agreed to meet on the beach the following morning, and the meeting was repeated the following morning, and the morning after that. Lisa saw nothing wrong in just foregathering with a fellow-countryman on the beach, particularly as they were in full view of anyone who cared to study them, and although Gia was bashful at first, and declined to have very much to do with the Englishman, after the second morning she unbent, and by the fourth and fifth they were on excellent terms.

  Lisa, who had been nervous of permitting Gia to enter the water while she was alone with her, had every confidence in entrusting her to the care of Peter, who seemed to take a liking to the small, plain Spanish child, with the enormous green eyes that made him think there was something elf-like about her. And after a few nervous essays on the edge of the water she gradually gained enough confidence to allow him to teach her a simple breast-stroke, which was followed by a sudden rush of enthusiasm to emulate everything he did.

  But while permitting her to believe she was making enormous strides he was very careful of her, and it was sheer ill fortune that a threatening bilious attack brought about an onset of queasiness when she entered the water on the sixth morning after Peter Hamilton-Tracey had suddenly appeared on their limited horizon.

  Only the night before Lisa had been thinking it strange that she had heard nothing from Madrid, and that after telephoning to make certain they were quite all right on the first night after their arrival Dr. Fernandez had suddenly seemed to assume that all must be well. He had written once, and sent Lisa a cheque for a generous month’s salary in advance, but that was all she had heard from him. And there had been no message for Gia in the letter.

  But now, all at once, while Gia started to tread water wildly and rush back to the beach as if she was either in pain or sudden fright — and she was afflicted by both the physical and the mental disturbance — a car drew up on the coast road, and two people alighted and came across the sands to them.

  Lisa took one look at the car and recognized it at once. She would know those long white lines anywhere. And the man in the light lounge suit, with a carelessly flowing tie and hair like

  black silk in the sunshine — he was known to her even better than the car. And the woman who accompanied him could be none other than Dona Beatriz de Camponelli.

  Dona Beatriz obviously didn’t believe in beach wear, or even informal holiday wear. Her silk suit was as impeccable as if she was going out to lunch at one of Madrid’s most exclusive clubs or restaurants, and the perilous high heels of her shoes were a menace to her ankles as she walked awkwardly across the yielding sand. The only concession to informality was the fact that she carried her large white cartwheel hat in her hand, so that her lovely red head was exposed to the caresses of the salt sea air and the sun.

  Gia hurled herself into Lisa’s arms, burst into a flood of stormy weeping, and then when she caught sight of her

  father absolutely rushed at him. He picked her up and, in spite of the detriment to his immaculate suit, carried her quite gently back to Lisa, and then knelt in the sand beside her to examine her. She celebrated his arrival by being violently sick, and crying out that she had swallowed a lot of sea-water.

  Dona Beatriz turned shocked and coldly disapproving eyes from Lisa to the tall, fair, handsome young man, wearing the briefest bathing-trunks, who had by this time joined the group.

  ‘We will get her back to the house,’ he said quietly, and he had hardly glanced at Lisa. ‘She is obviously suffering from some upset. It could be a touch of sun, or something she has eaten.’ ‘Or sea-water she has swallowed,’ Dona Beatriz said distinctly. ‘Perhaps Miss Waring was too busy with her friend to notice that Gia was in difficulties, and if the child has been taught to swim almost certainly she was in difficulties! Children of that age don’t lie!’

  C H A P T E R S I X

  They returned to the villa, and for the remainder of that day Lisa knew that she wasn’t merely under a cloud, she was highly suspect, and strongly disapproved of.

  Dona Beatriz didn’t attempt to conceal that she considered that Lisa had been put upon trial, and had ingloriously failed to justify any further belief in her, and that the sensible thing would be to replace her immediately. It didn’t matter that, once having been put to bed and treated by her father for an ordinary upset stomach, Gia recovered rapidly, and admitted that she had never at any time been in difficulties in the water, and on the contrary had been thoroughly enjoying herself until something inside her turned queasy. It didn’t matter that, just before he somewhat awkwardly dissociated himself from the group, and walked off towards his own cottage, Peter Hamilton-Tracey attempted to put in a good word for Lisa, and assured Dr. Fernandez that there had been no neglect whatsoever on her part, and that she was completely wonderful with children, as he had reason to know since she had looked after his brother’s — although since he hadn’t remembered her when they met again Lisa herself would have

  doubted this recommendation! — and looked concerned at what had occurred.

  Nothing, apparently, mattered apart from the fact that a father had been caused justifiable vexation, if nothing worse, and Dona Beatriz was in a position to offer advice, which she obviously did very freely.

  Once she had discarded her wet swim-suit, and donned a more suitable cotton frock, Lisa had hurried to her charge’s room, and assisted her employer in everything that he did for his daughter She had received curt instructions not to leave the child for an instant while he fetched a case (without which, apparently, he never travelled from his car), and dosed the invalid; and when, feeling slightly more like herself, Gia managed a wan smile, and attempted to snuggle for comfort into Lisa’s arms, an even curter instruction to allow her to lie flat was issued immediately. Gia looked as if she might dissolve into tears, Lisa colored, and the child protested: ‘ But I want Lisa to hold my hand! And I like to feel her close. And I’m better now.’

  ‘You will be better if you behave yourself, and do exactly as I tell you you must do,’ the doctor returned, so shortly that, for an instant, Lisa experienced a flaring of anger against him because he could adopt such a tone to a small sufferer. But he gave her no opportunity to say anything herself, for he went on: ‘It is wiser that she should be quite undisturbed for a time now, and not fussed over in any way. And if I can trust

  you to sit with her --------- ‘

  Lisa’s color burned in her cheeks as if it would bum holes in them.

  ‘I think you can trust me to do that,’ she replied quietly.

  ‘ And I shall do nothing to upset her. ’

  He sent her an odd, considering look.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t a particularly severe upset, so she should be all right in a few hours. And I shall be here now! ’

  The way he said, ‘ And I shall be here now! ’ suggested that he was interposing a rampart between his only child and someone who might carelessly — perhaps with reprehensible carelessness! — do her harm.

  When he had left the room Lisa sat expecting a visitation from Dona Beatriz, but the hours wore away and the lovely Spanish woman did not once come to make inquiries in the sick-room. Perhaps, Lisa decided, she had no great liking for sickrooms, as such; and having arrived, and created a certain amount of consternation as a result of her arrival, she was satisfied with the results so far. For naturally the English girl would be feeling less sure of her job, and might even be strongly apprehensive that her
services would very shortly be dispensed with. And Dona Beatriz probably needed time to recover from the effects of her journey, and would make her appearance when there was less likelihood of a fastidious nature being slightly, if unavoidably, revolted.

  For Lisa couldn’t help remembering that it was all over Dr. Fernandez’ expensive, light grey, superbly tailored suit that Gia had been violently sick, and she wondered whether he was holding that against her, Lisa. Although, as a doctor, that was one aspect of the matter that shouldn’t greatly trouble him.

  When she saw him again, late in the afternoon, he was wearing fine black slacks, and a silk shirt open at the neck. He looked composed and fresh, as if he had enjoyed a good lunch in the company of Dona Beatriz, indulged in the usual brief siesta — although sometimes it is not so brief, when the weather is very warm — looked upon by most Spaniards as an essential part of their organized day, and ready to be a little less hostile than his whole attitude had proclaimed him to be that morning. Having satisfied himself that Gia’s temperature was normal, that she had enjoyed a good sleep, and was feeling hungry, he perched himself on the end of the bed and looked at Lisa. She even gathered that he was willing to listen to some sort of an explanation.

  ‘That young man who was with you when we arrived this morning.’ He produced his cigarette-case, and then remembered where he was and put it away again. ‘ Is he a particular friend of yours?’

  Lisa, who was feeling stiff from much sitting, and had scarcely touched the tray that had been brought to her while the others were at lunch, returned his look vaguely.

  ‘Particular friend? No. No, of course not. He was only an occasional visitor at the Hamilton-Traceys. ’

  ‘The Hamilton-Traceys?’

  ‘My last employers. ’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ His indescribably lustrous black eyes were studying her, but with an expression so unrevealing that she could have no idea what he was thinking. ‘And this young man met you at the Hamilton-Traceys, and came here because he hoped to see you again?’

  She looked first amazed, and then shocked. ‘See me? The governess! . . . Nursery-governess, I should say.’ She pushed her fair hair wearily back from her brow. ‘ If you knew Mrs.

  Hamilton-Tracey you wouldn’t ask such a question as that! I don’t suppose I exchanged two words with Peter Hamilton-Tracey during the whole of the time I lived with the family, and even those two words were forgotten by him when he ran into me on the sands a few days ago. It is purely by accident that he is holidaying here. ’

  ‘I see. ’ But the black eyes seemed to hold such a cool tinge of doubt that they incensed her, and behind the doubt was that curious, blank wall of reserve that affected even the tones of his voice, so that at moments it had a strangely lifeless quality. ‘But you did run into him fairly regularly since?’

  ‘We have met in the early mornings. I suppose it’s not unnatural, under the circumstances. ’ ‘Compatriots, you mean?’ She thought his lip curled a little. ‘Well, perhaps not. . . . And you are very young. You probably

  feel the need for

  companionship. But if you’re already feeling homesick it’s hardly a good sign. Do you like it here?’

  ‘I love it. I told you I love San Cecilio.’

  ‘But this is not San Cecilio. This is rather an isolated spot. ’ ‘Nevertheless, I do love it. I think it’s beautiful. ’ He nodded so slightly that she didn’t know whether he agreed with her or not, and then he stood up and started pacing very quietly about the room. He picked up Gia’s beach-wrap which still lay across the back of a chair, and examined it idly; then he peered at the toe of one of the slippers that peeped from the end of the bed, and finally caught sight of the little volume of English poetry which was actually Lisa’s, but which she had given to Gia, and which now lay on the dressing-table top, and glanced through it with a temporarily averted attention. Then he thrust his hands in his pockets and turned and stared once more at Lisa.

  ‘I understood you had few friends, and I certainly didn’t expect you to run into one — quite literally! — so soon. ’

  Lisa endeavored to convince him.

  ‘Mr. Hamilton-Tracey is not a friend of mine. I know practically nothing about him. ’

  ‘But you will continue to meet him while he is here?’

  ‘I — I may, if — if you have no objections?’ She sounded so weary suddenly that he couldn’t help noticing it, and when she once more pushed back her hair from her forehead as if the weight of it oppressed her his eyes narrowed. ‘How long have you been sitting there beside the bed?’ he

  asked.

  ‘Since this morning. You told me to do so, and in any case I wouldn’t have dreamed of leaving Gia. ’

  ‘And you had no breakfast, I suppose?’

  ‘No, but it didn’t matter. We usually visit the beach before breakfast. ’

  ‘Did you have any lunch?’

  ‘Senora Cortina brought me a tray. ’

  ‘Did you eat what was brought to you on a tray? ’

  But as both pairs of eyes became glued as if the result of some mesmeric attraction to the tray that was not quite hidden away behind the window curtains on the window-seat, where she had sat for a short while while Gia was sunk in heavy slumber in the middle of the day, and it was plainly scarcely touched, she thought it best to say nothing.

  ‘I think you had better go and have a bath and change, and then come downstairs and have a drink in the library,’ Dr. Fernandez said, with sudden incisiveness. ‘After which, of course, you will join us for dinner. ’

  ‘Oh, but if you don’t mind I’d rather not—join you for dinner, I mean. . . . ’ Lisa was beginning, when Gia awakened and stretched herself and reached forth a small, determined hand to clutch at her.

  ‘Oh, no, you mustn’t leave me!’ the child cried, almost imperiously. ‘I don’t want you to leave me! ’

  Her father surveyed her coldly.

  ‘You are quite recovered,’ he said. ‘At any rate, you are recovered enough to be left alone, and Miss Waring has been cooped up here long enough. There is always the bell if you should require anything, and Senora Cortina can hear it in the kitchen. ’

  Gia looked at him imploringly.

  ‘I might be sick again. ’

  ‘You won’t,’ in the same cold tones.

  ‘But I might! . . .’ She began to whimper. ‘And I am used to having Lisa with me! She always has her own meals up here with me. . . ’

  ‘What? In this bedroom?’ He looked definitely shocked.

  ‘No, no, in the sitting-room, which is next door,’ Lisa interposed hurriedly. She felt disturbed by the strange behavior of a man who could display so much concern for his child at one moment, and treat her almost with dislike the next. It strengthened her determination to stay with Gia. ‘And that, I thought, was a sensible arrangement, because it would be absurd to expect Senora Cortina to behave towards us as she would towards — well, you and Dona de Camponelli! ’

  She didn’t know quite why she included Dona de Camponelli, or why it seemed absolutely natural to link the two of them together, but it did, and the name slipped out. She thought he frowned peculiarly for an instant, and then he returned rather curtly:

  ‘Sensible or not, tonight you will depart from a custom you seem to have established. I will expect you downstairs in the library in half an hour. ’

  ‘I’d honestly rather not. ’

  ‘And I don’t intend to argue the matter. ’

  He turned away and Lisa stooped above the small figure in the bed to soothe her. But as she did so she heard him remark dryly from the doorway:

  ‘She has no temperature, and if you leave her alone she will sleep. Sleep is more important to her than your presence just now, although you may prefer not to believe that. ’

  She felt not so much amazed as indignant, because having more or less openly accused her of neglect that morning, this evening he was implying that she coddled her charge. It was so unfair that she wanted to call
him back to protest.

  But he was not the sort of man one ventured to call back for any purpose whatsoever — not when one was merely an employee, and a more or less unknown English girl! And not for the first time she wondered whether she mightn’t have been wiser to have resisted the temptation to stay on in Spain

  — and the temptation, which had been so overwhelming, to see more of him! The more she saw of him, apparently, the keener was going to become her sense of inferiority, the conviction that they were worlds apart, and that it had been sheer audacity to think that even in odd moments he might look upon her as if that was not the case.

  She felt that so strongly when she went downstairs to the library that it was like an aura of foreboding that moved with her.

  The library contained the Tintoretto and the Greek bronze. It was also a particularly attractive room at that hour of the day, with the last echo of sunset making an arresting loveliness of the sky outside the windows, and the swinging bronze lamps glowing like mellow moons in the room itself. The walls were starkly white, and there was a great deal of old oak across which the light fell softly. Spanish chests discovered a richness and a patina that fascinated Lisa, crimson silk curtains and velvet cushions were almost sensuously colorful, and silver candlesticks and copper bowls shone out of shadowy corners.

  There were also a great many flowers, which Senora Cortina had arranged with a good deal of skill.

  Dona Beatriz was lying back comfortably in a deep chair when Lisa entered. She was wearing her favorite black — which, incidentally, is a favorite with most Spanish women of good family, whether sophisticated or otherwise, as Lisa discovered after only a very brief stay in the country

  — and she was looking supremely elegant. Her perfume, which was French, and not Spanish, overlaid sharply the milder perfume of the massed red roses in the room.

  ‘You feel quite easy about leaving your patient alone?’ she inquired almost indolently of Lisa, as the girl moved into the rays of light from the gently swaying lamps, and it could be seen that she had changed into a simple little cocktail-type dress of misty-blue georgette.