Island of Mermaids (26 page)

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Authors: Iris Danbury

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1971

BOOK: Island of Mermaids
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Are they really old, these pieces?

she enquired.

He shook his head and smiled.

No. Probably made in some secret workshop in the hills behind Naples, suitably aged, then displayed for sale. Still, I haven

t paid much for them, so I

m not grumbling.

Carla thrust her arm through Kent

s and swirled him around to talk to her, but in a moment or two she, too, was defeated, for Kent said he and his friends must go down to Capri for the first part of the
festa
.


See you all down there, I hope!

he called as he followed the others.

Ciao
!’

Together Althea and Carla watched the party walk to the villa gates, the odd-girl-out by Kent

s side. She was small and dark-haired and looked up at Kent with an assured and possessive manner.


What was her name?

demanded Carla when the others were out of earshot.


A Miss Holroyd, I think,

answered Althea.

Jennifer was her first name. I think she is the sister of one of those other married girls.


She is most dangerous,

declared Carla, and the intensity of the girl

s voice made Althea laugh.


Why?


She means to get him for herself, I think.

Althea giggled.

Oh no, Carla. You see enemies in every
girl who comes within a mile of Kent.


Oh, indeed, I am not always selfish to think of myself. Sometimes I care about other people.

Before Althea could make much out of this ambiguous sentiment, Carla had skipped off towards the terrace and into the villa.

It was not long before Lawrence and Emilia and the two girls were down in Capri watching first the religious procession, the saint carried high by perspiring men, followed by the priests in their gorgeous purple and gold robes. Then came tiny boys dressed in brief white shirts; they might easily have been animated cherubs from Della Robbia. Little girls in white dresses with blue veils followed, then the nuns, and after them the band from Naples, blowing as though they would split their instruments, drummers smiting their parchments as they would clout brigands.

After a tour of the narrow streets clustered around the piazza, the procession wound down the curving road to Marina Grande. From the parapet in the square, it was possible to catch glimpses of groups as the road twisted. It was wholly impossible not to hear the band blaring and tootling and thumping away down the valley towards the sea.

Now there was to be a longish interval for eating, recovery from exhaustion and the gathering of strength for the evening parade.

Brian joined Althea and the others.

There was no point in keeping the studio open. Anacapri is deserted. Everyone is down here.

That was evident. It seemed also that most of the population of Naples and the surrounding countryside had come across the bay to take part in today

s festivities.

When so many of the restaurants and caf
e
s were full, Brian led the rest to a place he knew where there might be room. It turned out to be the one through the arch and in a courtyard where Kent had taken Althea the first time she had dined with him. There was room here for lunch, although the alcoves were occupied and many tables had been laid in the courtyard itself. Althea stifled a pang of regret that she had to visit this place again without Kent and when the situation between them was so different. But with Brian in the party it was not so difficult to assume a fa
c
ade of light-hearted carnival gaiety.

Althea, mindful of her father

s limited strength, suggested that they should all rest in the Augustus Gardens for the afternoon, but although there were places to sit in the shade, there was no respite from noise. A small band dressed in local costumes, the men in red and green waistcoats over brown breeches, the girls in long red skirts with embroidered white blouses and aprons, maintained a constant succession of folk tunes, mazurkas, snatches from opera. Drums, tambourines, guitars and accordions joined in with fervour.

Emilia said mildly,

It is always like this for the
festa.
No peace anywhere, but I have a friend with a quiet house. Come, Lorenzo.

She led the way back through one of the narrow streets and her friends welcomed her warmly. There was a small enclosed garden at the back of the house and here the party were plied with iced drinks or coffee and tiny cakes, although it was still too soon to eat much after the protracted lunch.


Where do you intend to see the evening procession?

asked Emilia

s friend.


In the piazza.


You will be crushed like a sardine. Wait while I telephone.

After some delay, for it was quite possible, thought Althea, that the entire telephone staff were at the
festa
and off duty, the woman came back to say that her friends in the Piazza Umberto would be glad for Emilia and her husband and daughters and anyone else who wanted to be included, to watch the
festa
from the roof of her flat which overlooked the piazza.

It was not easy to push through the crowds that were now again filling the narrow streets, but once on the roof there was breathing space. A dozen or more other friends of the flat-occupier were scattered about the roof; a couple of tables and a few chairs made focal points for groups, and Althea and Brian chose to lean against the parapet to watch the seething mass of people below.


Isn

t that your friend Kent?

Brian asked.

She glanced across to the point he indicated,

Yes, that

s Kent,

she answered casually.


I didn

t know he

d come back.


He came this morning and brought some friends with him specially to see the
festa
.

She wanted to move away from the parapet or at least turn her head, but she could not do so and some sixth sense must have caused Kent to look straight up in her direction.

Brian waved and shouted, indicating that there was probably room up here on the roof for Kent and his friends. That was the last thing Althea wanted and she was relieved when Kent merely smiled and shook his head. It was then that she noticed the girl she had mentally designated as the odd-girl
-
out, the one called Jennifer. As Kent waved his hand in a salute, the girl waved hers, too, her left hand on which sparkled the unmistakable glints of diamonds. Her right hand was tucked inside Kent

s elbow.

A feeling of physical nausea swept over Althea and she momentarily moved farther back from the parapet. Odd-girl
-
out indeed! How blind she had been to the fact that it was she, Althea, who was the real odd-girl-out! Oh, yes, she had been handy enough for Kent in his voluntary exile during the summer. What luck that besides an attractive Italian girl who was infatuated enough to respond to his lightest call, an English girl had come to the Villa Stefano! Althea blamed herself for not being more reserved, forgetting that when the heart calls the head does not always listen. Well, she was finally cured now. She would not be so simple-minded in future. She told herself that Kent Sanderby had taught her a valuable lesson. She could put that one-sided friendship into the past behind her.

The first of the floats was approaching and now she gave the present moment her undivided attention. Headed by the band from Naples, there came a succession of handsomely
-
decorated floats and tableaux. Every aspect of Capri

s culture seemed to be represented; the fishermen with their nets, the vineyards with men balancing huge baskets of grapes on their shoulders. There were the tourists, gently mocked by being hung about with cameras, or sunbathing in brief bikinis. A collection of sea-horses represented Marina Piccola, two pseudo-Greek maidens blowing gilded pipes for the Grotto di Matromania. A Roman slave held an amphora high in the act of pouring imaginary water over his master and someone swung his telescope in all directions, peering for alleged enemies as he stood on the top of a small castle.

Then came the most important float, Tiberius seated indolently on his couch, while slaves proffered food and wine, and young boys danced around him to amuse and entertain him.


They tell dreadful tales of old Tiberius
,’
said Althea,

but I

m sure half of them aren

t true. Throwing his boy slaves over the cliffs when he tired of them or they offended him.


Legends are usually concerned with wicked men
,’
returned Brian with a laugh.

Saints are all right in their niche, but not quite so interesting.

Tiberius was followed now by a cargo of mermaids gathered around a rock and beckoning to a boatful of sailors following behind them. The sight of the mermaids caused Althea a sharp pang of memory. She could not help wondering what would pass through Kent

s mind when he saw them combing their long hair, gazing in their mirrors and crooning their mournful music.

Later in the evening when the processions had all dispersed there was dancing in the piazza and then when darkness fell, thousands of lire worth of rockets and stars, showers of coloured fire and fountains of flowers exploded into the sky and over the darkened blue sea.

In due course Althea and the rest of the party arrived in Anacapri and still the dancing and music continued in the streets.

Tm for bed
,’
said Brian.

I can

t stand the pace. These gay young things in their fifties and sixties make me feel an old man. See you tomorrow, Althea, if I can survive the night and its din.

Next day there were more processions, dancing and bands, as well as a regatta with decorated boats and, late in the evening when it was dark, a mock battle with realistic flames
and smoke and explosions.


I need at least four days

rest to recover from two days

carnival,

Althea said to her father when the festivities were all over.


From what I saw of the wine-drinking abilities of some of the men, I think they

ll need a fortnight to sober up,

he returned.

Well, now all the gaieties are over, we can concentrate on our winter

s work. When would you like to go to England?


Any time you like,

she agreed.

We

d better arrange a programme of sons, I suppose, so that I have appointments already fixed before I arrive.

It took a week to fix arrangements and Althea made her preparations to fly from Naples. Her father had set up a fairly complicated work schedule for her; visits to buyers of silks, the fashion houses who had been her father

s customers, to whom she would take samples from Italy, for Lawrence believed he could still do a certain amount of selling in this way. Then Althea was to visit the mills for tweeds and woollens to export to Italy and possibly elsewhere.


I

m not anxious to do business particularly on the grand scale,

Lawrence pointed out.

It

s the fashion houses I

m after. Then the rest follows if you can persuade the designers to use this or that cloth.


Sometimes you do the pioneering, but other people make the big profits,

she pointed out.

I saw this happen quite a few times in England.


That doesn

t worry me. I make the initial profits.

He cast a twinkling glance at his daughter.
‘P
erhaps now that you

re my elegant representative, you

ll squeeze a commission out of the manufacturers on both sides.

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