At the Villa Massina (16 page)

“Never! I couldn’t possibly risk my reputation like that in San Federigo.”

“If you don’t, he’ll come here and Ruy will know everything.”

Norma said through tight teeth, “You’re impossible! I leave things in your hands and you make a wholesale mess of them. All this is your doing, and you’ll have to wriggle out of it. I won’t have any part in it at all!”

“You’ve no choice,” said Juliet warmly. “When I offered to bring the children to Spain I had no idea you’d been having an affair here!”

“How dare you say that! There was no affair. The man fell for me and I was bored. He showed me his collection of stones and I liked the white jade. As a matter of fact I bought a couple of his stones not long after we met and had them set for Christmas presents. The jade brooch was a sort of ... bonus, I suppose, but it was a dangerous gift to a married woman. I took it, and afterwards I was sorry. Then when you were coming here earlier than we usually did, I thought it would be a good plan to get rid of the brooch and, by the action, let Lyle know that I didn’t want to see him again. I’m not a fool; if I hadn’t been bored crazy that year I wouldn’t even have answered the man when he first spoke to me.”

“I understand it was you who first spoke to him. Weren’t you in Cortana buying lace, when you lost your way? Didn’t you speak to him because he looked English ... and different?”

“Oh, what does it matter? Believe his lies if you like! You can tell the sort of man he is, by his threats. Juliet, you’ll have to see him on Wednesday and tell him he’s in danger. He’ll be grateful and anxious to get out of the district. He mustn’t know that I’m here.”

Juliet sat up straight. “I won’t do it. I’ve looked after your children and staved off this weak lover of yours, but I won’t go any further. The rest is in your hands.”

Norma swung round, a spot of high color in each cheek, the blue eyes angry. “If I’d been here I’d have nipped this thing in the bud and there would have been no tangle. You’ve let it grow, and now you expect me to put things right. But I won’t jeopardize my marriage for anyone! The problem is yours.”

“No, it’s yours. So is the reputation he proposes to shatter,” said Juliet quietly.

There was a silence. In an uncharacteristic gesture, Norma pushed her fingers through her hair, and then she looked at Juliet with a glance that was blue and calculating.

“The Conde de Vallos came into it because he found the stone under the table here at the villa?”

“Yes. He must have had ideas about it from the beginning; he wouldn’t give it up.”

“There’s one thing I don’t quite get. Why should he withhold what he knows about Lyle from the police?”

Juliet looked down at the small depression her fists had made in the sand. “He was sorry for me. He got the idea I’d fallen for Lyle Whitman.”

“And had you?” asked Norma in hard tones.

“No, I haven’t been poaching. I’ve been very frank with him as a matter of fact—told him exactly what I thought of him. Not that he cared. He seemed nice enough, but since Ramiro told me where Lyle gets his private income I’ve know he was only out for gain, and to save his skin. He didn’t trust the Conde with the ruby because he knew that once he suspected he would be merciless. He simply counted on his usual good luck. He even took the chance of selling stones to Inez because he thought he had her more or less enslaved and she’d keep the transaction secret if he asked her to. I think he became over-confident.”

After a pause Norma said slowly, “If we knew where he was at the moment we could put the police on to him there. I still think he has enough chivalry in him to keep silent about me if he doesn’t know I’m here.”

“You don’t care a thing about him, do you?” said Juliet with a slight bitterness in her tone. “Not that you should, I suppose.”

“He’s willing to blackmail—I can’t forget that!”

Juliet nodded soberly. “I wouldn’t trust him. You could send a note to his cottage at Cortana—he’s bound to go there first, when he returns.”

“I’ll send no notes anywhere,” stated Norma. “I won’t be incriminated in any way. Juliet, you’ve got to handle this on your own. All right, it’s for me, but you’ll have to do it. You haven’t anything to lose—and I have so much! You’re still a stranger here, and when you’ve gone they’ll forget you. I spend a third of each year in San Federigo, and scandal is the last thing these people will tolerate. I know them! It may seem strange to you, but here where we’re so well known I have to keep above reproach.”

“It’s a pity you didn’t think of that two summers ago!”

“I won’t have you preaching to me. It might have happened to any woman—it was just my bad luck that I happened to be attracted to a scoundrel. There’s no risk to you, Juliet. You merely meet Lyle, tell him exactly what has happened to his stone, and come away. He’s wily enough to work out the implications for himself. You say he’s giving up his cottage, so possibly he’s already had a scare and wants the cat’s eye back to close up that particular channel. I wouldn’t know. Juliet, you must do it.”

Juliet shook her head. “I’ve had enough of it. You have the facts, and now I’m willing to leave. If you wish, I’ll go off tomorrow morning, as you said.”

“You know Ruy wouldn’t like that!”

“You can’t have everything, Norma. Since I first mentioned this to you half an hour ago, you haven’t even hinted that you were sorry for all the disturbances I’ve had to put up with on your behalf. Instead, you’ve twisted things to make it look as though everything was my fault. Possibly I didn’t handle the man with sophistication—after all, I had no warning and no training! But I’m finished now with handling him at all. You found excuses before to go to Cortana; find them again, next Wednesday. If you get there early enough you’ll stop him from coming to San Federigo.”

Norma drew in her lip, then she looked sideways at Juliet with an uncertain smile. Her tones were softer. “Darling, you’ve put me in such a muddle with all this that I haven’t had time to think. I know it was stupid to get friendly with Lyle; I’m older and much more experienced than you are, and I think I knew he was something of a scrounger, even at the start. But he was a gay companion and I was feeling low, and somehow it was good to take it all up again the following year, after so much business entertaining for Ruy in London. Lyle made me laugh at myself; he chided me with marrying for money and a position—and I let him think it was true. It isn’t, of course. I adore Ruy and the children. But you know, there does sometimes come a phase in a woman’s life when she wonders if the romance she’s had is all she’s going to get. I was restless that summer, and Ruy was too foreign to understand it, or even to notice it.”

“I shouldn’t be too sure of that. He told me yesterday that you’d been tense for the last few days—probably since you’d decided to get here as soon as possible.”

Norma’s expression remained sweet. “Yes, he’s thoughtful but he believes me much more patient and obedient than I am. I wouldn’t hurt him, Juliet. I couldn’t.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Norma followed through. “So I have to be terribly careful, for his sake—and the children’s.” A pause. “You did say that Lyle has only been to see you because of this missing stone?”

“That’s right.”

“Then if you haven’t got it, you can’t do anything about it, can you? But we can’t let him come here, so you have to keep the appointment. It’s less risky, on the whole, than going to Cortana. Please see him just this once, Juliet. It’ll be for the last time!”

Juliet had known all along that it would come to this. She had fought against it, both in words and inwardly, but there was no shaking the logic of Norma’s point of view. She did have everything to lose, and Lyle Whitman seemed rather a poor thing to lose it over. If she were seen talking to him in San Federigo, Ruy would almost certainly get to know. That alone was enough to give him a nasty jolt, because Ruy was one of those men who implicitly trust those they love. Were he ever to discover that his wife had been friendly with Lyle Whitman over a long period he would never be happy again. Why, oh, why did men like Ruy Colmeiro fall in love with such women as Norma!

Juliet did not capitulate at once. “Have you thought about Inez de Vedro’s side of it?” she asked. “I believe she owns quite a number of Lyle Whitman’s collection.”

Norma had the grace to lose the artificial smile. “Yes, that’s a frightening problem. Do you think she’s really a bit gone on Lyle?”

“It looked that way. She’s not likely to have the jewels set for some time—not till the Conde has returned to Cadiz.”

“By then, perhaps it won’t matter. We may be back in England, anyway.” Her tones sharpened with cynicism. “Lyle caught me, and he caught Inez, too. I suppose the reason he didn’t bother with you was because you couldn’t afford to buy any of his stones. Juliet, for heaven’s sake get rid of the man! I shan’t rest till I know he’s cleared out.”

That was more or less the end of it. Norma didn’t bathe, after all. She got back into the wrap and they climbed to the villa, hardly talking. They separated and Norma dressed, and by the time she appeared again Ruy was home with the children, and full of tales he had heard from his friends.

After lunch, Norma drove them in a borrowed car into the country, and they watched a procession of plaster figures and choir boys and little girls in white at one of the village churches on the way. They had tea with still another friend of Ruy’s in Manca, and eventually made their way home as dusk fell.

That night, when she went into her bedroom, Juliet found an eggshell blue brocade frock lying over her bed. It was a splendid affair, with a deep-cut neck and a slim waist, the skirt full and stiff. Behind her, Norma had paused in the doorway.

“It was Ruy’s idea,” she said. “I took that cream frock of yours that fits so well down to my own couturier, and had this one designed to the measurements. I didn’t give it to you before because it got crumpled in the suitcase, but Luisa ironed it, and there it is. Like it?”

“It’s charming!”

“But not nearly so charming as the one it is to adorn,” put in Ruy from the corridor. “You do not mind that it is a dress, and not some piece of jewellery?”

Jewellery, thought Juliet faintly; she felt she would never again hear the word without wincing. “It’s perfect, Ruy. I don’t know how to thank you.”

He shrugged smilingly. “Norma wished to leave it for you in London, but I said no, we will make an occasion for the child to wear it. And so we shall, before you leave us. Who knows, it may be that gown of Fate, which young girls here sometimes talk about. A certain dress will bring the lover, so it is said; there is some magic which it works for the wearer. For you, Juliet, I would like this to bring the lover.”

From Ruy, it didn’t sound foolish because it was sincere. He said goodnight and drew his wife along the corridor, and after a moment Juliet closed the door. She hung away
the frock
and began to undress, but when she tried to drink water from the carafe there was a hard sharp lump in her throat.

CHAPTER NINE

IT was typical of Norma that she should make no further allusion to Lyle Whitman till she was forced to, on Wednesday morning. Even then she merely said to Juliet, “Slide out unostentatiously, won’t you, darling? It’s a very good time, so you’re not likely to be seen in town by anyone who matters. Be very firm, and do remember that Ruy and I are not here yet. All right?”

“No, but I’ll do what I have to,” Juliet answered.

And that was all. The whole family passed the morning on the beach, they all lunched together at one-fifteen, and soon after two Ruy allowed himself to be sent up to rest, like the children. Juliet went upstairs for a hat and came down quietly, and from her long chair in the sitting-room Norma waved a hand.

Juliet walked into the blinding sunshine, down the path and on to the road. She passed somnolent donkeys, a labourer sleeping by the roadside with his battered sombrero over his face, an abandoned load of maize cobs and tiny shuttered cottages. In the plaza only a stray dog or two stirred, but even they hadn’t the energy to sniff very closely at the baskets of produce on the curb.

The Alameda was a glaring vista of double roadway with hibiscus bushes down the centre and palms sprouting from regular circles of earth in the pavement. Behind the palms on one side there was an unending lawn which was irregularly shaped here and there to admit a statue within an arbour. All very Spanish and picturesque, even to the exotic blossoms which drifted from some of the trees beyond the grass.

She was early and took her time. The heat was not so fierce as she had known it, but very few cars purred down the wide road, and the little rostrum at the intersection, where a policeman mostly stood under a big white umbrella, was unadorned and forlorn. She went on, saw the Columbus statute in the distance and slowed. Across the grass there was a public aviary, and she decided to look at the budgies, parakeets and white doves in the large enclosure. But they were sleepy, too, and there was nothing else to distract attention from the musty color, so she passed on, to reach the statue with ten minutes to spare.

The seats Lyle had mentioned were placed in a semicircle about a dozen feet from the plinth, and they were shaded by a group of ornamental trees. One of the benches was occupied by a boy who slept smilingly with his hand on the basket of eggs and tomatoes which he had no doubt been on his way to deliver when overtaken by drowsiness. He was brown and healthy, his feet bare, his shirt and trousers skimpy. Poor, but as happy and vivacious as the birds ... between siestas. But he even looked happy asleep.

Juliet waited. An earnest young man with a book under his arm came to lean against the foot of the statue. He opened his book and read studiously, was warned by a sixth sense to look up, and found himself watched by a golden-haired girl wearing a pale green frock and a white cap. Instinctively, because he was a Spaniard, he smiled and murmured a compliment, but Juliet appeared so startled that he snapped the book shut and hurried away.

Half an hour later she stood up. Girls were appearing, brown, sloe-eyed wenches in swinging cotton skirts and white blouses, a basket on the hip or the head. Men strolled by on their way to the cafe, and birds winged dizzily across the wide thoroughfare. San Federigo had awakened.

Juliet walked back towards the Villa Massina, round the plaza and up one of the steep cobble streets, where here and there a woman sat sewing in a doorway, and children played in tiny patios. What came next, she wondered. Had Lyle already decided to disappear, or was this merely a small hitch in his plans? It might be something simple, like the breakdown of his car on the road. She felt sure that were he held up at Cortana he would somehow have got a message through to her. It was in his own interest to do so, and yet she thought he would have done it for chivalrous reasons, too. He was not the type to leave any woman waiting indefinitely near a public thoroughfare.

In the villa garden she hesitated. The blue car was there with a chauffeur at the wheel, in the shade of the usual tree. She went up and into the porch, entered the hall and put on a smile.

Ruy was with Inez, entertaining her in his pleasant fashion. He smiled at Juliet.

“Ah, the naughty girl has returned from her walk!” he said.

“You know, Inez, she will never be anything but British, this little cousin-in-law of mine. Me, I become Spanish the moment I set foot on this soil! The siesta is in my blood. Where have you been, Juliet?”

“As you say, for a walk.” She took off her hat, and still holding it, made as if to leave them.

But Ruy had moved towards the door. “You will remain with Inez, my dear? I must tell Norma we have a guest.”

“I am afraid,” said Inez, in her modulated tones, “that I have come too early, but I have some news for you. No, I will keep it till Norma is here. The children also, if you wish!”

Ruy bowed and went out. Juliet moved to a chair, but did not sit down. She kept the hat and her bag in her hand, said casually,

“I hope you are well senora.”

“Gracias. Of course, I hope the same for you.” Very distant, with a touch of hauteur.

“It’s a little cooler today.”

“Yes. It is said we may have rain soon.”

“It will be good for the gardens.”

“Oh, yes, though there is an abundance of water here at San Federigo.”

“I’ve noticed that.”

A silence. Then Inez said evenly, “I wish to do you a small kindness, Juliet. Mr. Whitman is not what he seems, and it would be as well if you were to forget him.”

“I intend to, senora.”

“Those stones I bought from him—I kept them locked in the drawer of a desk in my sitting-room—you remember, the room where the portrait of my flame-haired ancestress hangs? They have disappeared, though the drawer is still locked. Only Mr. Whitman himself could have managed that.”

Juliet sorted this out. “When did you miss them?" she asked.

“Only a day or two ago, but they could have been stolen at any time during the past week. I have not been to the drawer.” A superb cool shrug. “It is of no importance. He was obviously an adventurer; I was never for a moment deceived by him, but I did like those turquoises and opals. However, it was all very amusing, and I do not mind being charged for my amusement.”

Juliet understood, and admired her poise and serenity. Lyle Whitman had been an incident shared only with Juliet Darrell; he was to be treated as if he had never happened. No doubt Inez had heard something from her brother; or she might even have been told by the servants that Lyle had come to the Castillo when both Inez and the Conde were out. The discovery that the gems had disappeared had revealed the rest. In her way, the senora was astute; she had been ripe for a brief dalliance, but consciousness of her position had remained strong and ever-present. She had even taken the precaution never to see Lyle anywhere but at the Castillo, and with him she had doubtless maintained the slight imperiousness.

And now, in no time at all, she had made herself believe he had made no impact whatever upon Inez de Vedro. How fortunate to be the senora, thought Juliet bitterly; that was what excessive family pride could do for one!

For something to say, she enquired, “Was the white jade brooch with the gems you lost?”

Inez shook her head. “It was in my bedroom with my trinkets, naturally. But I do not care for it very much. It is too pallid. I am making some gifts for fund-raising for a new hospital in the Bahia de Manca; the brooch may realize a few pesetas.”

A clean break. It was as easy as that if you were Inez de Vedro.

Juliet heard Norma come into the room but did not look her way. In the clamour of greetings, she was thinking about Lyle who, perhaps against his will, had been forced to get back those gems he had sold to Inez. He had needed her money, but floating around in this district the stones spelled danger. Was it possible that he knew of his own peril and had decided to get out? For Norma’s sake, she hoped so.

Her cousin was exclaiming, “But how sweet of you to call, Inez! We were saying only this morning that we must pay our respects at the Castillo, and you shame us by coming here again before we have a chance to do so. You will have chocolate, my dear one?”

Oh, yes, Norma could be almost Spanish when she wished to impress. She was looking across the room at Juliet, one eyebrow slightly raised. Juliet knew she was expected to nod reassurance, but she had none to give. She shook her head slightly, and Norma turned away.

The children came in, bringing with them a small pandemonium. Luisa followed, carrying chocolate and lemon syrup, dishes of small cakes and a bowl of homemade sweets. Norma poured and Ruy served, the noises died to a domestic murmur.

Then Norma, from her place behind the low, laden table, bent forward eagerly to put a teasing question. “Ruy says you have some news, Inez. I can’t wait to hear it!”

The senora’s smile looked thoroughly genuine, her tones were soft. “Yes, I have news—splendid news. I am to be married!”

Norma let out an ecstatic, “O-oh! I did so hope it was that. It is Manuel Verrar?”

“But who else? He has been here, you know, but went to his relations before Easter. Now he is in Madrid, and he has written a formal proposal, both to me and to Ramiro.”

Ruy was exclaiming, “Que sea enhorabuena!
Congratulations, Inez. I am sure you and Manuel will be very happy. We saw him in England, you know, when he finished his mission. He spoke of you with much tenderness.”

“Where will you live?” Norma demanded.

“Wherever he is sent,” Inez replied, with a low laugh. “We shall come back to the Castillo quite often, of course, particularly if he is fortunate enough to be given a year or two in Spain, as he wishes. Dear Manuel. Both Ramiro and I have written at once, and I feel it will not be long before he returns to San Federigo!”

Manuel Verrar, reflected Juliet, would read one of those two letters with profound gratitude and ecstasy. Really, Inez was marvellous; one had to admit that. If it occurred to her that Ramiro had probably engineered the written proposal she chose to ignore it.

The talk went on, and Juliet was permitted to withdraw. In her bedroom she leant near the window and looked out. How tired she was of this place and these particular people. They rasped her nerves, roused antagonisms and yearnings of which she would never have believed herself capable a couple of months ago. Everything seemed to go their way, and wherever she, Juliet, looked, there were frustration and difficulty. Yet did England spell safety and peace of heart? Would she ever be content again after this tempestuous stirring of the emotions in Spain?

It was only now, thinking that she could leave when she pleased, that she realized how closely Ramiro had become woven into the fabric of her existence. It seemed strange that it should happen without his being aware of it, but there it was. No hour passed without her recalling his eyes, so black that they could burn, the voice like velvet which could harden into polished steel. A thousand times, lying in the darkness, she had wondered whether, by using every artifice and stratagem at her command, she could have made him look at her differently, as if she were a woman, and desirable. But, no. She had never been strong on tricks, and in any case Ramiro knew them all. He was experienced and urbane, the lean, handsome El Greco, with profound admiration for his own countrywomen. Elena, Lupita, Carmen ... some time he would philosophically marry one of them, and love her with all the considerable vitality and passion she had occasionally had reason to suspect in him.

The family came out on the path below, to wish Inez adios. The blue car swept away, its roof giving back the sunshine in sharp yellow rays. Norma looked upwards, spoke with a smile to Ruy and kissed his cheek; then she turned quickly into the house, and when, a few moments later, she came into the bedroom, Juliet had left the window and was ready for her.

Norma, in a narrow ivory skirt and a black blouse, her hair sleek and almost Titian in the dimness, carefully closed the door behind her. She looked at Juliet, slightly parted her lips so that she looked hollow-cheeked and beautiful.

Her tones weren’t beautiful. “What happened? Was he awkward?”

“He wasn’t there.”

The blue glance went stony. “Not there! Had you mistaken the time or the place?”

“No, I’m certain of that. I think he may have got wind of something, and cleared out.”

A slight relief showed in Norma’s expression. “It could be that, though he might have been held up in some way. What do you think?”

“I’m not sure. If he was prevented from turning up by an accident or something, he’ll try to get in touch with me again.”

“You don’t mean he’ll come here!”

Juliet gestured. “I’m not in Lyle’s confidence. The first time he came here I tried to get him to promise not to come again. He didn’t promise, but he hasn’t plagued me. He disliked having to mix me up in the business, but from his angle he had no alternative. Norma, I think you ought to say something to Ruy about it.”

The other paled, and her bright red lips went thin. “Be quiet, Juliet. You don’t know what you’re suggesting. Do you think I haven’t gone over it, again and again, since we’ve been here, wondering and quaking! Supposing I told Ruy that Lyle had pestered me last year, that I’d kept quiet about it because he was born an Englishman ... how long do you think it would be before he started tormenting himself with suspicions? Our life together wouldn’t be worth anything at all. No, we have to get rid of Lyle—unless he’s removed himself already.” She pressed a tight fist into the other hand. “It’s so unfair that a small indiscretion should be permitted to haunt one like this! Juliet, you must go to Cortana. It’s chancy, but there’s nothing else.”

“I’ve had too much of it, Norma.”