The Turquoise Sea Page 12

  C H A P T E R T E N

  KATE sat at the table in the corner of the dark smoke-filled cellar and gazed around with alarm. Antonio had told her it was called the Matador Club. Nearly everyone there was a man—they sat in groups, close together, hardly talking, drinking steadily, their dark faces and deep glowering eyes lifting suspiciously when a newcomer entered the room.

  She had danced twice with Antonio and had then pleaded a headache.

  He sat opposite her, his dark eyes fixed on hers, an inscrutable look in them. Kate had hated dancing with him. The dance floor was so small that they hardly moved, and Antonio held her so close that she could hardly breathe. The last straw had come when he had turned and bitten her arm.

  It was a gentle bite — but a bite, nevertheless. She had shied like a frightened horse and jerked herself free.

  “I don’t care to dance any more,” she had said. “My head aches.” As they sat down, he refilled her glass with a sharp, bitter red wine.

  Then he toasted her, his eyes mocking.

  “You Engleesh girls are the teasers,” he said.

  Kate stared at him, puzzled, then thought she understood. Her cheeks grew hot. Did he think, because she had come out with him tonight to look for Natala, that she was encouraging him? That she was prepared to—”

  “Where is Natala?” she demanded abruptly. “I don’t believe she would come to a place like this.”

  She looked round again. The air was thick with smoke. Suddenly someone shouted and a bottle sailed through the air, to crash against the wall.

  Kate sat, frozen stiff with horror. She wanted to get up, yet was afraid to move lest she be involved in trouble. She stared at Antonio again and saw that he was amused by her panic. She leaned forward and said slowly,

  “Where is Natala?”

  He flicked the ash off his cigarette airily. “If you are good girl, I will tell you. If not ... I won’t.” He smiled mockingly.

  Kate sat back. How could she have been such a fool as to trust him? If only ...

  It was no good regretting what she had done. Now she .must find a way to get out of here. It could not be done by antagonizing him.

  The whole evening had simply been a trap to make her go out with him.

  And she had walked into it! He had driven down town fast, telling her they would see Natala at once. Then in that crowded room, the air filled with smoke, and the sound of noisy laughter, they had danced, Antonio keeping up the pretence of looking for Natala.

  “She has a friend — they come here every night,” he told Kate. She tried to imagine Natala in such a place and failed. Yet Antonio seemed sure.

  They had gone through the hot black night to another noisy place, this time being whisked aloft in a lift to a roof-top where the glorious sea with its circle of dancing lights made a never-to-be-forgotten picture. They danced again, and when Kate got restless, Antonio said that the Matador Club must be the one and he had made a mistake. He had been humble, apologetic, or she might have insisted, then, on going home.

  Now she wondered how to do it. They sat silently staring at one another. Antonio looked triumphant, and Kate tried to hide her dismay.

  This was a foreign land — suppose Antonio turned unpleasant? How could she cope? She might have to walk through the darkness. Mrs. McCormack had once said that on each street corner lurked a bandit with a long curved knife. Maybe she had said it to frighten Kate, but Kate remembered it.

  “Antonio —” she began desperately.

  He leant forward and took her hand. She fought the desire to snatch it free — made herself smile a little, and then ...

  Things happened!

  Across the room two men were suddenly shouting insults — a table was overturned. A chair flew through the air, crashing noisily in a group of people, who leapt to their feet, screaming angrily. Two men were fighting, surrounded by a group of men who shouted encouragement.

  Kate was on her feet, back pressed to the wall, her hand to her mouth in terror. She saw Antonio’s face — he was white, too, staring in dismay at the fracas.

  And then, miraculously, James was there, taking her arm, swinging her into the circle of his, holding her close as he pushed his way through the crowd. Even as she felt the tears of relief flowing down her cheeks, she saw, to her amazement, Randel following them, his face grim, his fingers hooked round Antonio’s arm — a struggling, frightened Antonio, who looked completely helpless in Randel’s firm grasp.

  They all piled into the car, and before Kate realized it she was being led by James, his arm round her shoulder, into a big room. It was obviously Mr. Lister’s, for, as he almost threw Antonio into a chair, he said curtly:

  “I think we all need a drink.”

  Kate’s hand shook as she tried to sip the whisky he gave her. He looked down at her coldly.

  “Drink it up,” he ordered.

  She obeyed, and the strong drink burned her throat. But she felt better and the trembling ceased. She was aware of the silence in the room, of Antonio trying to make himself so small in the chair that no one would see him. Of James’s kind, curious eyes. Of Randel’s cold, hostile ones.

  Randel Lister spoke first.

  “When I was told you had gone dancing with this ... man—” his finger made a contemptuous gesture towards the crouching, terrified Portuguese

  — “I refused to believe it. You told me yourself that ...”

  “I know,” Kate said quickly. Mariana again, of course. But perhaps it was as well that she had told Randel, otherwise they might never have rescued her. “It wasn’t to go dancing with him—” They listened in silence as she told them the whole story. James began to laugh.

  “Honestly, Kate, you swallow every story. How could you be so stupid?” His voice was kind, and she did not mind his amusement.

  “I hadn’t time to think — I tried to get you on the phone....” Randel frowned. “You telephoned McCormack?” He sounded annoyed.

  Maybe he thought she should have telephoned him. She had never thought of it. She stared at him wonderingly. Did that mean something — that she had not thought of Randel when she was in trouble? She thought only of James.

  She turned wondering eyes first at James and then at Randel, not realizing she was doing so. She was asking herself a question. If she loved Randel, why hadn’t she thought of him?

  “We could have traced this girl through the police,” Randel went on impatiently. “It seems rather foolish to risk your neck with a ruffian of this type just for an acquaintance.”

  “Natala is her friend,” James put in quietly, and smiled at Kate. “That’s different, eh, Kate?”

  Randel was frowning again. “It was by sheer chance that McCormack and I bumped into one another. I didn’t like the idea of you mixed up with such a man as Vidal, and apparently McCormack had a feeling—”

  “Kate rang my mother, who said she had behaved oddly. Mother left a note by my bed. I went to sleep, had a bad dream about Kate, woke up, re-read the note and decided to do something about it,” James said cheerfully, as if it was the most natural procedure in the world. He met Randel’s long thoughtful gaze for a silent moment and then smiled. “We’re very fond of Kate, you know, Lister.”

  Randel’s mouth twisted. “So I see,” he remarked.

  James stood up, his big body moving with a leisurely grace. He walked to Antonio, lifted him by his collar gently and put him on his feet. He grinned at Kate. “I’ll have that address for you in five minutes. We’ll find your friend tomorrow.”

  “Oh, James, you’re so good!” Kate watched him march the unfortunate

  — as her soft heart now called him — Antonio outside. Her eyes shone, James was wonderful!

  Randel Lister spoke curtly. “Honestly, Kate, you alarm me. You walk into trouble without even noticing it. A good thing for you we came on the scene then. It could have been very ugly.”

  “I am sorry,” she said earnestly. “I’m afraid I act before I think. But I’m so worried abo
ut Natala, and he promised ...”

  “You mustn’t believe everything a man tells you,” Randel said crossly.

  He looked at her and she saw, with a sudden sweet breathlessness, that he was really concerned about her. “You’ll get hurt, and ...” James came back, grinning. “That’s okay. I’ll pick you up just after lunch, Kate, and we’ll go together and see your friend. I may be able to help her get another job.”

  Kate was on her feet, clasping her hands with youthful excitement, her eyes shining as she stared up at him. “Oh, James, I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

  The two men had a short argument as to who should drive Kate home.

  She stood waiting patiently, wishing the little argument was not merely a polite one and that both men really wanted to see her home. James had common sense on his side, for he had to go home, anyhow – so Kate said good night to a suddenly cool Randel Lister and went off with James.

  He walked up to the dark flat with her and saw her safely inside.

  “Tomorrow afternoon,” he said, and held her hands tightly. She looked up at him.

  “Oh, James, I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Then don’t,” he said, smiling. For one moment he looked as if he had been going to kiss her. She was glad when he did not. Somehow she did not feel she wanted James to kiss her. Yet she liked

  him so much, had turned to him automatically when she was in trouble.

  The following day they found Natala. Kate and James walked down a narrow lane between two high walls and found themselves in a small paved yard. There was a hut with a curtained window and closed door. James knocked several times and, when there was no answer, forced it open.

  A wave of damp, dusty heat hit them. As their eyes grew accustomed to the darkness they saw two beds. In one was Natala, with dark frightened eyes, in the other a small, wizened-looking little woman lay still.

  “Kate!” Natala cried, and then began to sob — dreadful shaking sobs that racked Kate as she held her friend close and tried to comfort her.

  They learned that Natala had fallen and could not move, that her mother had somehow got her to bed, then had one of her frequent heart attacks, managing to crawl round the room until the last of their food was gone.

  James acted swiftly. Soon an ambulance arrived to take Natala and her mother to hospital. He told Natala not to worry about the expense.

  “You can pay me back,” he said, judging instantly that charity would be an insult. Kate looked at him with wonder. James sensed everything. “I’ll help you find a much better job,” he grinned at Natala.

  Natala grabbed his hand and kissed it. “You are too good!” she murmured brokenly.

  He patted her head clumsily. “You are Kate’s friend — and therefore mine.”

  Natala clung to Kate’s hand, but no one was allowed to go with her in the ambulance.

  “We’ll come and see you,” Kate promised, and watched the vehicle drive off with tears running down her cheeks.

  “Hey!” James said. “Why cry now? Everything will be all right”

  “But it might not have been.”

  He walked back to the Pensio with her, where he had left his car.

  “No,” he said gravely. “It might not have been. Had it not been for your insistence on finding where she lived, they could both have died of starvation.”

  “Oh, James!” Kate looked up at him and shivered. “What a dreadful thought!”

  “It is.” He looked grim. “Awful to think they had no friends, no neighbors. I’ll go along later to the hospital and give you a ring, Kate.” Rosa was awake when Kate got upstairs. She was sitting in the middle of the bed, very still. When she saw Kate, she launched herself over the room, clinging to Kate. “I thought you’d gone ... gone for ever,” she kept saying.

  Kate held her close, rocking her a little. “I’ve promised you I’ll not go, my poppet.”

  Rosa would not be comforted for a long time. It was when they were out for a walk through the park that she said without warning, “You tell the truth, Kate, don’t you? You think it wrong not to tell the truth?” Kate looked at the small, earnest face. “I always tell the truth,” she said steadily. Which was true, for Kate was not one to tell a lie lightly and would only do it to save a person from pain.

  Rosa looked at her. “Mariana says she is going to be my new mother. Is that true?”

  Kate stared at her, her face rigid with dismay. Mariana would surely not dare to say such a thing to Rosa unless it was true.

  “I don’t know, darling,” Kate said slowly. “I can’t say if it is true or not.

  Why don’t you ask your father?”

  Rosa shook her head violently. They walked on for a while, then Rosa looked up. “Kate, why don’t you ask my father to marry you? Then you could be my new mother.”

  There was something so wistful in the young face that Kate forgot she was in a public park. She dropped on her knees on the grass, put her arms round Rosa, her cheek against hers, and said with all the honesty in her,

  “Oh, my darling, how I wish I could. There’s nothing I would rather be than your new mother.”

  “Indeed?” a cold, sarcastic voice said. “That may be true, but is it wise to tell the world?”

  Her cheeks scarlet, Kate scrambled to her feet and found herself staring into Mrs. Kelly’s face. For a moment she wondered who the woman was –

  then remembered the inquisitive woman who had cross-examined her on the ship the day they arrived, and for whom Mrs. McCormack had such amazing sympathy.

  Now Kate looked into Mrs. Kelly’s eyes and saw that this was a very sick woman indeed. A white-faced woman, trembling a little. Kate made her voice cordial.

  “How nice to see you, Mrs. Kelly. Look — there’s a seat here. Shall we sit down?”

  Her hand under Mrs. Kelly’s elbow, Kate led the way over the grass. It was a relief to see Mrs. Kelly sit down safely. Rosa was by Kate’s side, her face curious.

  It took Mrs. Kelly some time to recover her voice. Then she smiled—a gaunt, wolfish smile that frightened Kate and made her glance down anxiously at Rosa. But Rosa had wandered off and was gazing into a small fish pond, her soft pretty hair falling forward. Kate felt her usual rush of grateful wonder because Rosa looked so different these days. But she was startled when Mrs. Kelly echoed her thoughts.

  “She’s a different child,” Mrs. Kelly said. “I made a point of seeing her soon after you took charge, and I thought, ‘That quiet, weak girl will never be able to do anything for that unfortunate child.’ ” Mrs. Kelly’s dark eyes looked at Kate curiously. “You have more stamina than I guessed. I congratulate you.”

  Kate blushed with pleasure. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.

  Mrs. Kelly’s smile vanished swiftly. “Now I’m going to give you some advice that you won’t like. Don’t think about Randel Lister. He is not for you.”

  Kate gasped. It was the last thing she had expected Mrs. Kelly to say.

  Mrs. Kelly went on slowly, “I have been ill — but I hear things. The Dominguez are strange folk. There are rumors. Ugly talk—” she shook her head as if trying to shake away bad dreams. “I have heard things. They hate you — they will not hesitate ...”

  Poor old thing, Kate thought with quick sympathy. Obviously she has had a nervous breakdown and now has a mania about the Dominguez.

  True, Kate felt ill at ease and a little fearful with them, but danger? Oh, no, that was an exaggeration!

  Mrs. Kelly put her hand on Kate’s arm, and Kate nearly jumped out of her skin. Despite the great heat and the way Kate’s dress stuck to her wet body, Mrs. Kelly’s hand was icy cold. Her eyes blazened into Kate’s.

  “I’m warning you. They mean to get Randel Lister, and nothing will stop them. If you have any sense, you’ll let them see that you’re not interested in them.” Those strange, frightening eyes searched Kate’s face.

  “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

  Kate’s cheeks
were aflame. “I ...”

  Mrs. Kelly stood up, holding on to the seat as she began to walk unsteadily away, then turned round and said in a truly frightening voice, “If you don’t mind what happens to you — then think about the child. She could be involved, too.”

  Kate watched Mrs. Kelly’s unsteady progress and wondered if she should run after her to help her. But Rosa was absorbed in watching the goldfish, and Mrs. Kelly had seemed all right before she talked such rubbish. But was it rubbish? Kate was remembering some of the things Natala had said. About the Dominguez reputation – their few friends — the way people eyed them curiously.

  It was nonsense. Of course it was. Melodramatic nonsense. She got up swiftly and went to Rosa’s side, to watch with her the small shiny bodies of the little fishes.

  James called for Kate that night and took her to his house, saying his mother would be back before she need leave. He told her he had seen Natala; she would be all right, but unfortunately her fall and the lack of treatment immediately afterwards might make her spastic condition worse.

  “They have a new method of treatment, however, which they are going to try out,” he finished. Natala’s mother was very sick. In fact, the worst was anticipated. James met Kate’s concerned eyes. “I think Natala has always known that one day her mother would be too weak to outlast these repeated attacks,” he said gently.

  They talked that evening as they had never talked before. Kate, relieved about Natala, could relax, although running all the time through her mind was the thought of Rosa’s question about Mariana — and Mrs. Kelly’s warning.

  James told her about the vast business his father had built up, starting as he had done with one small native store. She asked him casually if he was the heir or owned the whole concern. She wondered at his quizzical glance and was embarrassed when he said chidingly. “Oh, no, Kate, not you too.