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The Turquoise Sea Page 15
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“You can cut that thought right out,” he told her curtly. “Rose wouldn’t go out of her depth.” Feeling better, Kate tried to smile. They walked back to the Pensio.
“Naturally the Senhora is distressed,” Randel said. “She has loved and cared for Rose since she was a baby.” Then he had an idea. “Rose may have gone to Mrs.
McCormack,” he suggested.
Kate lifted a suddenly hopeful face. “I never thought of that. Mrs. McCormack was out when I telephoned, and the houseboy told me James was away.” They went to the Villa Paradis. Mrs. McCormack was shocked. No, she said, she had not seen Rosa. Natala came limping out of the little office James had made for her.
She was now in charge of some charity accounts of which he was the chairman.
“Oh, Kate ... our poor Rosa!” Natala said, her ethereal-looking face, with it deep-set eyes, tragic.
Randel glanced at her quickly, and Kate saw that he was surprised — he had not thought Natala was speaking sincerely. Then Natala went pale.
“Kate!” she said in a frightened voice. “Have you thought Rosa might have been kidnapped?”
The ugly word hung in the air.
“Who would kidnap a child?” Randel began — but there was uncertainty in his voice.
Mrs. McCormack’s eyes were troubled. “It could be,” she said worriedly.
Kate was standing, tense and afraid. “Oh, no – please, no!” she almost whispered. “I couldn’t bear her to be frightened again.”
She met Randel’s questioning eyes.
“She was so afraid at first, but now ... now she is beginning to trust people.” But not much, she thought unhappily. “Anyway, who would kidnap her?” she went on.
Randel moved uneasily. “Money — there are people ...” He looked at his watch.
“Look, Kate, we’ll go back to the Pensio and see if they have heard anything. Then I’ll get on to the police again.”
“But, Randel,” Kate was completely unaware that she had called him by his Christian name, “if you do that, they may ... may ...” Her voice faltered on the words.
“Shouldn’t you go to your hotel and wait for them to telephone you? They’ll ask for a ransom.”
He stared at her, “It sounds very melodramatic,” he protested.
Mrs. McCormack nodded slowly. “That’s the usual routine. Oh, it can’t ...” In the end, Kate went back to the Pensio alone. Randel drove back to his hotel.
Mariana came into the hall, her face accusing.
“You have not found her,” she stated.
Kate shook her head. She was so tired and unhappy, she wanted to curl up and just die. How could she bear it if anything happened to Rosa — and all through her own carelessness?
She went down the passage, almost blindly, Mariana behind her, reviling her, accusing her of having slipped away to an assignation, of having neglected the bebe.
It was a relief to reach her own room — to slam the door rudely in Mariana’s face
— to fall on the bed, to cry heart-brokenly. Why, oh, why, had she fallen asleep? She never, never slept in the middle of the day — never indulged in a siesta. What could have made her sleep so heavily? Usually the lightest movement awoke her.
Yet Rosa had been able to wake up and walk away.
It must have been a heavy sleep — almost as if she was drugged. She sat up.
Drugged? How bitter the coffee had been. Both had remarked on it. The coffee was never very nice, but today it had been almost undrinkable.
She stood up, brushing back the damp, heavy hair, fighting her sleepiness. Her limbs still felt heavy, her movements sluggish. She went quietly down the corridor, not sure what to do, who to tell — or what good it would be.
They would only accuse her of making up a story.
She chanced to look in the bathroom, and stared at what she saw.
The flat was still. Kate ventured into the room, and lifted the thermos flask that the coffee had been in. It had been washed thoroughly — it was even now filled with clean cold water.
What did it mean? Fear curled her heart up into a tight ball. It could only mean one thing. The Dominguez!
They — who never washed a cup, a glass, leaving everything to the Pensio servant, who came at regular intervals. Why was the flask washed and left there? The servant would have taken it down to the Pensio’s kitchen. It could only mean one thing. Kate went back to her room, her legs unsteady. It could only mean one thing — but who would believe her?
C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N
THAT evening was like one long nightmare. Randel telephoned several times, and Mariana informed Kate that the Senhor Lister desired her to stay in the flat as the police might wish to question her! She herself was going to help the Senhor search.
Kate padded up and down the corridor between her room and the telephone restlessly, wishing with all her heart that James wasn’t away. He would have been so comforting.
It was hot, with a heavy storm threatening. Kate had a bath and changed into her yellow shortie pyjamas and nylon dressing-gown. Passing Rosa’s bedroom door, on the way back to her own room, she tried not to think of the child. Ever since she had felt sure the Dominguez were involved—and if not, why the hasty, guilty washing-up of the thermos? — she had not worried so much. They would not hurt her.
Suddenly she heard a cry — a moan. Her heart seemed to stand still. She opened the door. And stared.
Lying on Rosa’s bed was Rosa herself, still in her sandy swimsuit, her face flushed, creased red from lying on the pillow.
Rosa turned restlessly and half awoke.
Kate was on her knees by the child’s side, holding her close, saying very gently,
“Turn over, honey, it’s just a dream.” Obediently Rosa turned over, one hand up under her cheek. Kate drew a thin blanket up over her and stood staring down at her thoughtfully, beginning to understand.
If Rosa had drunk sufficiently of that drugged coffee, someone could have scooped her up in their arms and carried her back here without awakening her.
Kate went to the window and stared out blindly. Could Rosa have been here all the time? Kate began to tremble. Could anyone be so cruel — so heartless? She thought of Randel’s white, stricken face — of the police scouring the town — of her own heartbreak.
She closed the door softly and went to the telephone. Her hand was still shaking as she dialled the number.
When she heard Randel’s anxious voice she could not speak at first, but then she told him, “Rosa is all right — she’s here. In her room.” His excited questions buzzed in her ear. All she could think of was that she must make him understand what had happened.
“She’s covered with sand. I think she has been here all the time.” She paused while he expressed relief. Had no one looked in her room? — why had she not awakened?
“I think she was drugged,” Kate said deliberately. “I’m sure I was drugged — that was why I slept so heavily.” She paused.
Randel had obviously turned away from the telephone, she could hear him talking, but not his words. Then she heard Mariana’s sceptical clear voice distinctly.
Desperately Kate went on. “Please, Mr. Lister, bring a doctor with you. Rosa half woke, but I persuaded her to sleep again. I don’t think she need ever know how frightened we were.” She waited while he demurred. Wouldn’t a doctor alarm her?
Wasn’t it best to let her sleep until morning? Was that some of Mariana’s doing? Kate wondered. By the morning the effects of the drug would have vanished. She answered stiffly, “I think she should see a doctor.” She felt almost weak with relief when he unexpectedly capitulated. Maybe he had noticed that Mariana did not want to call one.
Then she dismissed that thought as foolish — Randel would never doubt Mariana.
Kate listened to his instructions. “Yes, I am serious, Mr. Lister. Rosa is not sleeping naturally. I’m sure she was drugged.” She hung up the receiver and turned away.
The Senhora was
standing in the doorway of her bedroom, a voluminous grey wrapper enfolding her huge body, her eyes malevolent How much had she heard? Or understood? And if she had, what did it matter?
Passing her, Kate said, “Rosa is well, Senhora. She is sleeping. The Senhor is coming at once, and we are not to disturb her.”
The elderly Portuguese woman looked at her with inscrutable eyes.
“She has been there — the whole time,” she said. It was not a question.
Kate looked at her. “I think so,” she said.
Suddenly she could hardly bear to be near the Senhora. How could they do such a thing?
She hurried to her bedroom and dressed. When she came out, she went running down the corridor, for the Senhora was in Rosa’s room. Rosa was crying bitterly and the Senhora was scolding her in a shrill voice.
“This nakedness ... this bad behavior!”
Most of what the Senhora said was in Portuguese, but Kate understood enough to see that the Senhora was in a violent temper, and determined to take it out of the child.
Or? — or no! To upset her so much as to make the doctor think she was not normal?
The frightening thoughts rushed through Kate’s mind.
Now she pushed the elderly woman aside and scooped Rosa up in her arms.
Glaring at the Senhora, Kate said, “I told you Mr. Lister said we were not to disturb her.”
The Senhora advanced, shaking her finger in Kate’s face and screaming at her. “I am the bebe’s grandmother, what right have you ...?” Randel and Mariana walked right into the little scene, with a short, dapper, bearded man behind them. Randel grasped the situation and soon had the Senhora out of the door — they could hear her having hysterics down the corridor and Mariana’s voice trying to calm her. Randel’s eyes were icy as he looked at Kate.
“I told you—”
Holding Rosa tightly, Kate glared back. “I told the Senhora what you said, but—”
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
“I had to get dressed, and when I came out she was in here, screaming.” Kate could feel Rosa’s burning tears on her neck. Now Rosa’s sobs became hiccoughs, slowly dying away.
The doctor waited patiently, a rather wry smile on his mouth. He was Portuguese, and Kate, looking at him, wondered what he thought of the situation. When Rosa was finally calm, the doctor gave her a quick examination. He looked under her eyelids, at her tongue, tried a few of her reactions, then looked up at Randel.
“Indubitably,” he said, with only the faintest of accents. “I can even tell you the name of the drug.”
Randel spread out his hands helplessly. “But why drug them both — and take the child? Why?” The doctor lifted an admonishing finger. “I will give the child a sedative
— in the morning all will be forgotten.” He looked at Kate, his eyes twinkling. “She is a little sandy, eh, but doubtless you will bathe her.” Kate clung to Rosa’s hand. She was frightened. So it was true ...
“I think I’d like her to sleep with me,” she said.
The doctor nodded. “It is wise. Then she will be secure.” He turned to Randel, but Randel was frowning at Kate.
“Look, Kate, don’t over-exaggerate this,” he said curtly. “Our main idea is not to frighten Rose.”
Kate looked at him and wondered if he could see in her eyes the scorn she felt for him at that moment. “The damage has already been done,” she said, and could not resist adding, “by the Senhora.”
Kate found that the story of the abduction and discovery of Rose Lister was soon all over Lourengo Marques. She took Rosa to tea the following day with the McCormacks, and James’s mother soon gave Rosa something to occupy her so that she and Kate could talk. Mrs. McCormack had met Mrs. Kelly in town. “And, Kate, even though you dislike her, you would be sorry for her now. She said that I must warn you again.
Kate, why again?”
Kate told of that first meeting. “She really frightened me. She says the Dominguez are dangerous women and intend to hurt me.” Kate tried to laugh. “I’m not afraid of them, but of what they might do to Rosa. Mrs. Kelly also said she was in danger.” A gentle cough startled them. They turned and saw Natala hesitating in the doorway. Mrs. McCormack welcomed her warmly.
“Come and sit down. This dear child works so hard, Kate, it quite worries us.” She smiled at the hesitant girl.
Natala’s face glowed. “I would kill myself with work to please Senhor James,” she declared.
“That wouldn’t help him much,” Mrs. McCormack said dryly, and then smiled. But her eyes, as they met Kate’s, held a question. Kate wished they were alone so that she could reassure her friend. Mrs. McCormack need not fear Natala was falling in love with James; Antonio’s slim, olive-skinned fingers held Natala’s heart firmly in their grasp.
Natala said, “I am so happy Rosa is safe, but so afraid for you, Kett. You may say I am being mello ... mello ...” She shook her head, searching for the word. “—
Melodramatic, but do you not see your danger? All these years, the Senhor Lister has paid for the menage of the Dominguez. That has been of use, for they had nothing, but nothing.” She saw their surprised faces. “Ah — there are many stories told of the Dominguez in this town and none of them are pretty. Desperate, they were lucky to have the Senhor to come to their aid.”
“He thinks he was lucky they came to his aid,” Kate said.
Natala shrugged. “It may be so — they help each other. But now — what lies ahead? Mr. Lister, he takes the bebe to England. No more money. How the Dominguez live? That is what they ask. Mariana must marry. But why does the Senhor hesitate? She think it is you.” Natala smiled as Kate shook her head vigorously. “That he likes and respects you, Kett, I am sure. I have seen with what eyes he stares at you. I agree –
it is not love,” she went on, quite as if she did not realize how it hurt, but now Natala’s eyes became kind and comforting. “You know that, Kett, you are no fool. But Mariana sees you as enemy. One to be disposed of.” It was an ugly, body-shivering remark. “So she tried to ... to ... delusion ... to disillusion ... to reveal ...” She sighed. “The word will not come. She try to make the Senhor think you bad at job — then he sack you and she look after Rosa again, plenty of money to live well and all are happy.” They talked for hours in the same strain, and when Kate took Rosa back to the Pensio, both of them by their slow dragging walk displaying their reluctance, her heart was really heavy. In the next few days, Natal’s words stayed with her. It seemed as if she was endangering Rosa just by staying with her. Then the storm broke. It was learned that Antonio Vidal had been arrested — he had been seen carrying the child into the Pensio. He was in the hands of the police. Mariana said it must be revenge — because Kate insulted him! Kate said she had not.
Natala wept bitterly. James tried to comfort her. “It is all Mariana,” Natala sobbed.
James looked at Kate, and lifted his eyebrows. Later she told him that she thought Natala was right.
“But why?” James asked.
When she explained and told him of the drugged coffee, he wanted to know if she had told Randel.
“It was a strange thing for them to wash up that thermos. Yet why drug you?”
“I think I should go away,” Kate said unhappily. “If I told Randel he wouldn’t believe me.”
“No,” James agreed. “He is bewitched. I wish we could open his eyes.” It was then that he invited them all to go to a bullfight. He had first taken them all out to dinner at the Polano. It was an uncomfortable meal, and when Randel had danced with Kate, he lectured her on her attitude towards Rose.
“I understand she never leaves your side now. She sleeps with you — that you fight every attempt the Dominguez make to talk to her,” he said coldly.
Kate lifted defiant eyes. Oh, what was this awful emotion she felt for this man? It could not be love, surely? Even while she trembled at his touch, she could still shake with anger at his obtuseness, his refusal to see the truth.
“Rosa is terrified of them — the Senhora told her she had been kidnapped and that it was lucky she was found!” Kate’s voice quavered before the anger in Randel Lister’s eyes.
“Rose has great imagination,” he said cuttingly. “Can’t you see you are encouraging her? She must accept the Dominguez. She has known them all her life. They are her only relations — they love her. Your attitude makes everything very difficult.” Seething with anger, yet miserably aware that every word he said proved that he planned to marry Mariana, Kate went back with him to the table. Mariana was being very gay — carefully ignoring Kate, addressing her remarks simply to the two men.
“Is it not wonderful, my Randel? James is taking us to see the great Costa de Merico,” she said reverently. “He has the tickets.” James turned to Kate. “Would you care to come?” He smiled at her shocked face.
“Bullfights are not the same here as in Spain. Here the bull is not killed, he only fights once and then goes back to the fields to graze and enjoy life. They don’t injure him —
just tease him to make him angry. It’s so colorful.” Mariana spoke before Kate could answer. “The Engleese mees would be sick. She has not the stomach for the fight. She would be afraid — cry.” Her voice was contemptuous. “She could not see it as we do. Beautiful — a pageant — a trial of man’s skill and courage.”
Kate was still going to refuse, but Randel surprised her by saying, with maddening smugness, “Mariana is right, Kate. You would hate it.” Kate took a deep breath. “I think James is right and I ought to see it, as part of my education. I may never have such a chance again,” she said a little bitterly, and then regretted the words. She knew she would loathe every minute of it.
She was to regret her words still more on the day itself. It was a scorchingly hot day with the sky almost colorless because of the heat. Even the palm trees seemed to have lost heart, their leaves hanging listlessly. Rosa had been left with Mrs. McCormack.
James kept close to Kate — for which she was grateful, especially as Randel had eyes only for the exquisitely lovely, elegantly dressed Mariana.