When Summer Fades (13 page)

Several hours later, she wasn’t so fortunate. It took considerable courage on her part to confront her boss with the news that Mario de Sousa had just telephoned from Milan. He was sure Carlos would understand, but due to a last minute hitch, he wouldn’t be coming to Lisbon after all.

‘He was extremely sorry, and said to pass on his profuse apologies.’

‘So he damned well should!’ Carlos replied, looking at his watch. ‘Oh, well, as I appear to be surrounded by incompetents today, I might just as well go home.’

Picking up his briefcase and slamming his office door, Carlos was already half way along the corridor when he realized he’d not wished his secretary goodnight, or passed on his best wishes for the coming weekend.

‘I’ll make it up to her next week,’ he muttered, through tight lips. Now all he wanted to do was get out of the city, away from the oppressive, stifling, heat.

Half an hour later, still stuck in the same suffocating traffic jam, he waited impatiently for the lights to turn green. As they did so, he caught sight of a familiar road sign. If he went left, the road would take him to his apartment; if he went right, it would take him due south. Not knowing why he did so, other than that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, Carlos indicated right and changed lanes. Ignoring the tooting of horns and waving of fists, he turned his car in the direction of Odemira, and headed for Alvor.

Once on the open road and feeling considerably calmer he pulled into a lay-by, took off his jacket, loosened his tie and reached for his phone. Perhaps he ought to ring Bernado, especially as Casa Maria-Clara would now be locked up for the night? With luck, Filomena might even leave him some supper and also make up his bed in the annexe.

Thoughts of beds, however, made him laugh out loud. If it was you I was ringing, Sophie, and not Bernado, he said to himself, with a broad grin, you would tell me in no uncertain terms to make the bed myself! So ... why don’t I do exactly that? Such a shame to disturb Bernado and Filomena on a Friday night. Thank goodness I still have my key for the annexe.

Chapter 9

Waking from her siesta, Sophie peered at the clock. She couldn’t possibly have slept for so long. Realizing only too well that she had, she also knew it would be difficult to sleep later that night.

‘This is absolutely ridiculous!’ she muttered, easing herself from the pareo placed across the bed to protect the white cotton counterpane. She’d slept more in a week abroad than in a whole month at home. Pushing wide the shutters, Sophie acknowledged that despite the sunburn, she was at least feeling relaxed. Who wouldn’t with such a magnificent view, and the dying rays of sunset, dusting the sky with a wash of terracotta and crimson?

What a pity you don’t make such a perfect picture, she lamented, turning to her reflection in the mirror. With crease marks on her face from the pillow, and skin the colour of a pink blancmange, she was not a pretty sight. Grateful there was no one about – Bernado and Filomena were at home watching television – Sophie made herself a sandwich and attempted to sit by the open balcony doors with her book. With only a few chapters to go, she stood up distinctly uncomfortable. Not only was it impossible to find a comfortable sitting-position, but also she was fed up with lying on her stomach. There was only one thing for it; another walk, where under cover of darkness, no one would see her.

Once more tracing her steps along the seashore, this time by moonlight, Sophie gazed across the bay to myriad twinkling lights of the tiny fishing village. Rosa had explained how, at this time of year, Alvor buzzed with the sound of tourists weaving their way along the twisting, narrow streets. Out of season however, it was infinitely quieter.

Thinking she would like to come back in the early spring when the air was heavy with the scent of almond and orange blossom, she was suddenly reminded of her aunt and uncle. Spring in the Algarve was one of their favourite times. At Easter, Monty had even spoken of selling Casa Edna and moving to Portugal for good. At the time, Sophie thought he had been joking. Now she wasn’t so sure. Filled with melancholy, she understood how the Algarve climate would certainly suit them better. Monty and Edna were showing signs of age, but she’d miss them both dreadfully, and what if anything were to happen…

You’d
come
and
visit
them
,
silly
! an inner voice echoed.
Stop
being
so
melodramatic
.
Go
back
to
the
house
,
wash
off
that
disgusting
calamine
lotion
,
and
put
on
something
decent
.
You
don’t
have
to
look
like
a
creature
from
a
Hammer
Horror
!

With trepidation, Sophie stepped into the shower, knowing that unlike the earlier soothing seawater, the jets from the powerful shower head would feel like red-hot needles against her skin. What a pity there was only a shower in the annexe. If only she’d thought of it before, she could have used Rosa’s bathroom.

‘Maybe tomorrow,’ she winced, gently soaping away all traces of calamine.

Draped in one of Filomena’s freshly laundered towels, Sophie was reaching for another when she heard the sound of a car’s engine and saw a sweep of headlights through frosted glass. Rosa? Surely not, she puzzled, hearing footsteps while fixing the second towel, turban style on her head. Hurrying from the bathroom, she called out.

‘Rosa. I told you I would be perfectly all right on my own. There was absolutely no need for you to come back all this way to see—’

‘You half-naked in the hallway?’ came a bemused voice.

‘Carlos!’ With a tiny gasp, Sophie clutched at the towel draped about her naked torso, as a result the one on her head fell slowly to the floor.

‘It would appear I have an uncanny knack of disturbing you whenever you are taking a bath or shower, Sophie. Allow me to assist you with your towel.’

Walking towards her, Carlos stooped to retrieve the towel and was about to place it across her shoulders when he caught sight of her badly blistered back.

‘Good God! What’s happened to your back?’

‘It got burnt.’

‘I can see that! I thought you said you were careful about going out in the sun.’

‘I am ... but when Rosa took me to Loulé we ran out of petrol and had to walk to the nearest garage. ’

‘You what? Not again! Rosa did that at Christmas and again at Easter! When is she ever going to learn cars need petrol?’

‘She said she was very sorry.’

‘So she damned well should be! Where is she, by the way? Why hasn’t she been to the chemist for you?’

‘She’s in Lisbon. I thought she was with you.’

‘She was supposed to meet me for lunch, but never turned up. Do you know why?’

Sophie shook her head, causing wet hair to fall about her shoulders. Tiny droplets of water trickled on to her back. Carlos saw her shiver.

‘I think you’d better go and slip into something a little more comfortable.’

Glad to escape his penetrating gaze, Sophie turned and nervously clutched at the towels. ‘That’s not particularly easy at the moment,’ she said, ‘That’s one of the reasons why I’m glad I persuaded Rosa to leave me on my own.’

‘Oh, dear! And I’ve come along and ruined all that, have I?’ Carlos replied, a faint glimmer of a smile on his lips, wondering what, if anything, she had been wearing
before
she took a shower?

Blushing, and not wishing to explain the pareo, long floaty sun frock and enormous straw hat, Sophie hurried away. When she returned, wearing the familiar blue cotton wrap-around dress, Carlos eyed her suspiciously.

‘And is that comfortable?’

She eased herself gingerly onto a settee. ‘Let’s say it’s considerably more comfortable than most of the clothes I brought with me.’

‘I still can’t believe Rosa was so stupid to even suggest you walked all that way.’

‘It wouldn’t have been quite so bad if I hadn’t left my pareo in the car.’

‘Then why did you?’

‘The car was parked in the sun and Rosa thought – er –
we
thought we should leave them to cover the seats.’ Trying to
cover
up for Rosa, Sophie added feebly. ‘Unlike your luxurious C70, Elisabete’s car does not have air-conditioning.’

‘The reason it hasn’t is because that’s Aunt Elisabete’s
old
car. She’s been using that until her new one is repaired.’

Sophie frowned. Elisabete had a new car, then why…?

‘Perhaps I should explain,’ Carlos began. ‘Aunt Elisabete appears to have confrontations with delivery lorries almost as frequently as Rosa runs out of petrol. It seems to be a family trait.’

‘Just as yours is disturbing me whenever I’m having a bath or a shower?’

‘Ouch! I asked for that? Well, there you have it, Sophie. You see I’m not nearly as perfect as Rosa would have you believe.’

‘Does that bother you?’

‘In what way?’

‘In as much as you think that you’re not perfect, or because Rosa thinks you are?’

Fixing her with eyes the colour of midnight, Carlos raked his fingers slowly and deliberately through his hair. ‘As well as being a nurse, are you also a psychologist?’

Frightened she was getting out of her depth in more ways than one, Sophie struggled to rise from the soft, feathery cushions of the settee. ‘I think it’s perhaps time I went to bed, do you think you could help me? I appear to have got myself stuck. The backs of my legs got burnt too.’

‘So I see,’ Carlos watched the wrap over dress fall to one side when she tried to move, ‘Here, take my hand, and first thing tomorrow we shall have to find you something for that dreadful sunburn.’

Pausing by the sitting-room door, Sophie called softly. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted anything.’

Carlos bit his lip, momentarily taken aback by such a leading question.

‘To eat or drink?’ Sophie prompted.

‘Oh, no, there’s nothing I want,‘ he lied.

‘Where will you sleep? Shall I help you make up a bed in the house?’

Following her into the hallway, Carlos shook his head. ‘I don’t think that will be necessary. I know where everything is kept. Perhaps I should have explained when I first arrived. I usually sleep in the annexe. It was originally built for my parents when I was a boy. That’s why I have a key.’

‘Of course,’ Sophie said, stopping outside her bedroom door. ‘Rosa told me you and Cristovao prefer the annexe. What fun it must have been to stay here.’

Carlos made no reply. At the moment he would have preferred not to think of either Rosa or Cristovao. Hearing Sophie whisper ‘goodnight’, he looked up with unseeing eyes.

‘What? Oh, goodnight, Sophie. Sleep well. If you can.’

‘The problem isn’t getting off to sleep it’s finding a suitable position,’ she said, without thinking, ‘Lying flat on your stomach with your face pressed into the pillows, isn’t exactly the most comfortable way of spending the night.’

‘I can think of better ways,’ Carlos murmured out of earshot, turning to walk away.

*

The smell of roasted coffee, freshly squeezed orange juice and crusty
pappo
secco
filled the air. Sophie stirred, and lifted her face from the bed clothes, to her horror Carlos was standing in the open doorway.

‘I did knock, but your head must have been buried in the pillows.’

Grateful to be lying on her stomach, she turned her head to one side. The reflection, in the full-length mirror, told her that she was at least decent and covered by a sheet from the waist downwards. She breathed a deep sigh of relief.

‘I thought as you found sitting so uncomfortable you might prefer breakfast in bed. That’s if you can eat and drink from that position?’

‘Thank you. I’ll try.’

‘Good. And if you intend to go for your usual walk or swim, I was wondering if I might come along?’ Not waiting for a reply, Carlos placed the tray on the dressing table and discreetly left the room.

Later, preparing to leave the annexe for their walk, they were halted by the ringing of the phone. Sophie lifted the receiver. It was Rosa.

‘Sophie, how are you? How’s the sunburn?’

‘Not hurting quite so much.’

‘Then that is good,’ Rosa announced, a little too cheerfully, Sophie thought, ‘So … would you mind very much if I didn’t come back to Alvor tomorrow? You see I’ve met up with some old school friends, and they’re having a party. Unfortunately, Mother needs her car after all, and it’s so annoying that Carlos couldn’t make it to Alvor this weekend.’

‘But he has. He’s already here.’

‘Carlos is at the beach house! Why didn’t he tell me? To think I even called at his apartment because his mobile was switched off! Is he there now?’

‘Yes. Would you like to speak to him?’

‘
Sim
!’

‘Rosa wants to speak to you. She’s not very happy,’ Sophie mouthed to Carlos.

Hearing Carlos’s voice rising in anger, Sophie slipped away unnoticed to the beach.

‘Rosa! How could you be so utterly stupid? Running out of petrol once is bad enough. Three times in a row is inexcusable. Also inexcusable was leaving Sophie alone at Casa Maria-Clara.’

‘She isn’t completely alone,’ Rosa argued. ‘Bernado and Filomena are there.’

‘That’s not the point! Sophie is your guest. She went out of her way to make you welcome at Victoria Villas, even giving up her own bedroom!’

Surprised to find Carlos so angry, Rosa tried a softer approach. ‘But Carlos … Sophie made me go. She insisted I have lunch with you.’

‘Then why didn’t you! I’m a busy man Rosa. I can’t afford to waste time sitting in restaurants, waiting for you to turn up. By the way – what was your excuse? My secretary never did tell me.’

‘I met an old friend and we got talking. I suppose I – er – forgot.’

‘Like you forgot your manners when it came to looking after Sophie?’

‘I said I was sorry … and if you think Sophie is really angry with me Carlos, perhaps you will come and fetch me, and bring me back to Alvor? Mother needs her car and as I don’t have transport—’

‘It’s not Sophie who’s angry with you Rosa, it’s me. As for driving to Lisbon just to bring you back here, the answer to that is definitely
no
!’

‘Then what will you do?’

‘I shall be doing what
you
should be doing – taking care of Sophie! First I intend to find something to ease her sunburn, and later I propose to show her the Algarve. I certainly wouldn’t want her spending three weeks in Portugal seeing nothing other than this beach house – wonderful though it might be.’ With that Carlos hung up the phone and considered the matter closed.