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He would have forgotten her by now. A man like Sam would shrug off an interlude with a troublesome girl who had been foisted on him, as if it had never happened. Maybe he had enjoyed the harmless attraction between them while it had lasted, but she could imagine him giving a cynical smile if he realised how she had almost fallen for it.

Almost! Thank goodness he had never known just how hopelessly she had fallen in love with him. He would probably laugh out loud. She felt wretched, the ache of parting hardly lessened since that morning at the airport when she had had to put on an act until goodbyes were said, otherwise she would have burst into uncontrollable tears.

Greg hadn’t helped much. On the night before they left he had verbally torn her apart for making such a nuisance of herself.

‘You should be ashamed, Minella,’ he had said, having followed her to her room as soon as they were back at the house. ‘Apart from anything else you ought to have had more sense than to trust a boy like that. It was thoroughly irresponsible. And to go off without a word to anyone was disgraceful!’

‘I didn’t intend to be long,’ she explained. ‘You were all at siesta and I would have been back before you missed me if Vasco hadn’t jumped to all the wrong conclusions. Honestly, Greg, it wasn’t what everyone seems to think.’

She hadn’t seen her brother so angry for years, and it upset her badly.

‘Sam is the one you must apologise to,’ he went on. ‘That man has gone out of his way to make us welcome. You’d think he’d known us for years, and you show him no gratitude. You amaze me!’

‘Really!’ she cried. ‘And wasn’t it
you
who objected so strongly when you saw me come out of his room one night? Make up your mind, Greg. Am I to show him gratitude, or would you rather I indulged in an innocent escapade with Vasco Hernandez?’

Greg’s face coloured and he looked down at the carpet, shifting his feet uneasily. ‘That wasn’t what I meant and you know it. Now I know Sam better I’m sure I misjudged you that night.’

‘How old-fashioned!’

‘There’s no need for sarcasm. All right, I know how it sounded, but I’ve got used to the idea of seeing the two of you together and I wouldn’t mind if you decided to make it permanent. Sam would be good for you, calm you down, but I guess today’s episode has put paid to that.’

‘There was nothing to put paid to in the first place,’ she had said adamantly, and went on to persuade him it was the worst possible idea. But her heart had been breaking. When Sam had kissed both girls at the airport, lingering slightly longer with Minella and teasing her with an affectionate smile, it was as much as she could do to keep from throwing herself into his arms.

And now all she had was memories. She stared out of the window, wondering whether she would ever be able to recapture the high spirits she had been noted for before joining the crew of the
Delphine Rose.
She had seen the yacht in harbour quite often since and viewed it with mixed feelings. With the help of a storm, the
Delphine Rose
had despatched her unceremoniously into Sam Stafford’s life, and there were times when she thought it was the worst thing that could have happened. If she had never come in contact with him she wouldn’t be suffering like this now.

The day was cold and a sea mist rolled in to obscure what sun there had been earlier, bringing dampness to everything. It dripped from the shutters and came against the window like fine rain. Even the brasswork all around had a dull bloom and she switched on an extra lamp to cheer things up a bit. Minella hated the cold, and in this weather the shop was positively depressing. She cinched a wine-coloured mohair cardigan tighter round her waist with a black suede belt that matched her boots, and a pleated tartan skirt swirled round her legs as she went through to the office at the back in search of comparative comfort until it was lunchtime, when she would be able to go for a walk along the sea-front. How on earth did Greg put up with this dismal place day after day? One morning was bad enough.

She switched on the gas fire and sat in front of it, her thoughts winging as always to the warm summer days on Fayal. She pictured the house in Horta with its random stonework and the smooth white panel between ground and first floor windows; the cottage with vines growing over the side wall; the garden and the bougainvillaea-covered fence. She thought of windmills and blue hydrangeas, and when she remembered the squeaking ox-cart wheels she thought of Vasco’s unrepentant expression when they left him with Dr Porva to have his ankle attended to. And then, inevitably, she was back with Sam.

Would she ever be free of him? Since returning home she had withdrawn into a shell of reserve and was only really happy when she was out alone in her boat. She had gained promotion at work, and a new young man with the firm who had high ambitions kept trying to date her, calling her a mystery girl because she never talked about herself, but she wouldn’t go out with him. She didn’t want any dates yet, in spite of having bought herself a more sophisticated collection of clothes.

At first she had avoided all discussion about events on Fayal, thinking that it was better not to even mention Sam in case it caused any repercussions between Greg and Annette. She dreaded that more than anything. But Annette knew it was not only the trauma she had been through in the summer that was affecting Minella. Trusting her feminine intuition, she had invited herself to supper at Minella’s flat one evening on the pretext of being lonely while Greg was at a meeting, and had gradually managed to bring the conversation round to Sam. They had been home about a month by then.

‘I know I went on a bit that day in Ponta Delgada,’ she said, having reminisced about the lovely time they had spent there. ‘I’ve thought about it a lot since and I’m afraid I said some pretty rotten things. You really
did
fall in love with Sam, didn’t you?’

Minella was taken unawares. She was so surprised at the sudden mention of his name her heart began Jo pound and she hadn’t time to wonder what had brought about the observation.

‘Yes, I loved him,’ she admitted. What use denying it?

Annette’s heart ached, too, for the way her husband’s little sister had grown up since she met Sam Stafford. There was a new maturity about her, a quieter outlook on things generally, and the candid answer she gave showed a new acceptance of life’s knocks. Resignation at the futility of such a love hadn’t come easily.

‘There’s something you should know, Minella,' Annette went on. ‘It might help you to get over it quicker, and if I’d had the courage I would have told you before.’ She sat close to the younger girl, fondness for her very much in evidence. ‘Do you remember me telling you once about the man I was going to marry before I met Greg?’ Minella smiled. ‘He let you down, disappeared, behaved despicably. Yes, you told me everything about him except his name. And you didn’t warn me
I
might fall into the same trap.’

‘You knew!’ Annette gasped.

‘Not straight away. Not when we had that awful row at the hotel in Ponta Delgada. It was Vasco who recognised you from a portrait.’ Minella paused, her eyes full of sympathy. ‘Oh, Annette, it must have been dreadful for you!’

‘It was,’ Annette agreed. ‘I wanted to tell Greg straight away, but somehow I kept avoiding it, and then it was too late. I had to risk the danger of meeting Sam again. But it didn’t take me long to realise the old excitement wasn’t there any more. He’s changed, Minella. We both have, and though I felt a sort of nostalgic affection for him, I wouldn’t swap him for Greg. After we got back I confessed it all to him, so he knows about it now and everything’s fine. I’m only sorry
you
had to be hurt.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll get over it eventually. I’m not the sort to hanker long after a lost cause.’

Annette sighed, wishing there was something she could do, but she knew from experience that only time would help.

‘It’s a pity he didn’t feel the same way,’ she said, ‘though I suppose he was a bit old for you. It would have been nice having him part of the family, but he told me that day at the hospital that there was someone else he was in love with.’

Oh, yes, thought Minella sadly, the truth of it was Sam still loved Annette, though it was a point in his favour if he hadn’t let her know. And it was a weight off her mind to know that Annette only wanted Greg.

‘Thanks for telling me anyway,’ she said. ‘It makes me feel a bit better.’

‘That’s what I hoped. You’re not alone, Minella. We’re here, and we love you. Never forget that.’

‘I won’t,’ Minella promised.

Talking had helped a lot, and the days were not quite so long afterwards, but though she managed to appear more like her usual bright self for Greg’s benefit, even perhaps reassuring Annette, there were still days when memories of Sam and his island were too painful to dwell upon. Minella was never sure if sunny weather or wet days were the worst, but certainly this particular morning had set her in the dumps with a vengeance.

She didn’t like the shop at all. It bored her because she couldn’t bear being so inactive, and she didn’t care for the musty smell or the constant reminder of age and the degeneration it brought. Things over which Greg enthused often looked too old for a second glance, and she couldn’t understand their value. Her flat was light and airy, and she wouldn’t have wanted any of these things cluttering it up. She got up and flicked a duster over a depressingly dull oil painting which bore a three-figure price tag and decided she would rather live with one of Sam’s awful pictures. For a few minutes she indulged in a longing to be back in the Azores that almost reduced her to tears; then she took herself to task. Nothing in life stood still, and there was certainly no going back. Once and for all she must stop thinking about what was gone and concentrate on the future. Tomorrow she would smile at the boy in the office who kept trying his luck, and she’d fix a date with him. She’d been alone too long.

Still wielding the duster, she came to a pile of old books in the comer and set about cleaning them up one at a time. Books were the most interesting things in the shop to Minella, and it wasn’t long before she was flicking through them, studying the coloured plates in a collection of old horticultural volumes Greg had recently bought. When she came to one about pineapple growing she drew in her breath sharply. Of all the subjects to stumble upon today! She picked it up hesitantly, almost afraid to be reminded of that wonderful afternoon with Alban da Costa who had explained all about pineapples, and mistaken her for Sam’s intended wife. How happy she had been!

She took the book over to the chair by the fire and soon became absorbed in it. There was so much fascinating information, and even though it had been written many years ago she could see the basic facts were the same. The subject was so engrossing she even delayed making coffee, and when the shop bell rang, announcing a customer, she put the book down reluctantly, hoping she could return to it quickly.

There was a man in the shop with his back to her, handling a piece of Bristol glass. Something about the way he stood, legs astride, shoulders well back, made Minella pause before approaching him, and she chided herself for letting the atmosphere of the pineapple book play tricks with her imagination. How many times since the summer had she seen men who resembled Sam in one way or another? She was getting used to the familiar lurch her heart gave just before she made the same mistake again, but this time it refused to be quietened. He was so tall his dark curly hair touched the chandelier and set the crystal tinkling as he turned. He put up his hand to steady it anxiously, and Minella’s hands flew to her face, not with any concern for the chandelier, but because she couldn’t believe her eyes.

It really was him.

‘Sam!'
she breathed.

He put down the blue glass and smiled calmly, then came over to her with outstretched hands. She put her own into them and they were lost within the strong grasp.

‘Hello, Minella. I hope you’re pleased to see me,’ he said, looking down at her from his vast height which seemed magnified in the confined space.

She couldn’t speak. Her lips parted and she tried to find words, but none came. He looked so different in a superbly tailored grey suit, a white shirt that emphasised his tanned skin, and grey silk tie. He appeared to be every inch a man who held authority and she was filled with awe.

‘Oh, what a wonderful surprise!’ she managed to say at last.

‘I hoped you would think so.’

The coldness of the shop made her shiver and she longed to give him a warmer welcome in every way, but he was a stranger. She’d had no warning. What would he think if she flung her arms round him and pressed herself close? She tucked a strand of hair nervously behind her ear and tried to compose herself.

‘I wish you’d phoned first,’ she said. ‘You’ve chosen the wrong day. Annette has gone to London with Greg, and there’s only me here.’

Of course, he had come intending to see Annette. He’d never stopped loving her, so it was only natural he would try to see her as soon as he got back to England. She drew herself up straighter and lifted her chin, determined not to let him see her agitation.

‘It was
you
I came to see,’ said Sam. ‘I went to the company where you normally work and they said you were here looking after the shop for the day.’ His eyes were bluer than she remembered and they searched her face curiously. ‘What made you think I’d want to visit anyone else first?’

‘I automatically assumed. . . .’ she faltered. ‘You came to the shop. . . .’

He put a finger under the dignified chin. ‘Never assume anything about me, Minella. I came to invite you out to lunch, but if you’re in charge of this mausoleum I guess it’ll be difficult.’

She giggled.
‘You
don’t like it either. I
am
glad—I thought it was just me.’ And yet with Sam standing there the place was charged with new life. He brought a vibrance that transmitted itself to every nerve in her body and she was just as aware of him as she had always been. ‘You really did arrive at an extraordinary moment. I was reading a book about pineapples, would you believe.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I can lock up for an hour at one o’clock. Can you wait until then?’