The Turquoise Sea Page 16

  Mariana was in her element, waving to friends, bowing, looking very proud. Her excitement grew as she leaned forward and looked down into the ring.

  The whole arena was packed with shouting, laughing, excited people. There was no shade and Kate’s face began to burn and her eyes to ache. Inside her she felt sick with fear. Everyone — except Kate — seemed a little drunk.

  “It’s excitement,” James whispered when she mentioned this. “Look.” He pointed out the brilliant blue velvet cloak, decorated lavishly with gold embroidery, its spangles sparkling in the sunshine, which had been thrown over the parapet before the day’s guest of honor — a visiting film star, who sat a little stiffly, smiling determinedly at everyone who looked at her.

  James showed Kate the sturdily-built wooden screens.

  “The matadors jump behind them if the bull comes too close,” he explained.

  Music started — gay, martial music. The picadors rode into the arena on great white horses, who looked as proud as their riders. Behind them marched the bandoleiros, strutting like peacocks in their skin-tight trousers and short gay jackets as they swung their hips and gazed round haughtily at the adoring shouts from the crowd. Then a pause and a sudden roaring cry as the matador entered the ring. He walked along, his cape swaying, his face beaming, as he bowed right and left.

  Mariana turned, her face radiant. “He is superb!” she said breathlessly.

  Kate stared at him. An ordinary, rather plump, little man with a kind face — what was there so wonderful about him?

  Everyone else thought there was, apparently. Roses and flowers were being tossed into the ring. Everyone was shouting. For a second, Kate caught the infection of excitement.

  But only for a short time. And then everything went wrong. The color and gaiety was wiped out. The eager excited faces were distorted; now they were cruel, sadistic.

  She thought it was how the Romans must have looked when they watched the Christians being thrown to the lions.

  It was all the bull’s fault. Maybe if it hadn’t been that bull He came into the ring so happily, so confidently. He looked round — every man was his friend. He was a great broad beast and he strolled nonchalantly, turning his head slowly from side to side, graceful, contented — with a dignity of his own.

  And suddenly he lost his dignity, and his contentment.

  Two picadors rode round the ring. They chased the bull. They harried him. He went from one side of the ring to the other, bewildered, surprised – obviously wondering what was happening.

  It got worse. They made him run. Soon he was breathless, pawing at the ground, turning his head angrily, looking ... a fool, Kate thought, as her eyes filled with sympathetic tears. She tried not to look, but the excited cries from the crowd made her imagine even worse things. James had said they would not hurt the bull.

  Now the bandoleiros were walking round him, teasing him, flicking the cape in his face, then standing out of the way. Then the matador, as the bull rushed past, flicked something else — Kate saw a ribbon fluttering from the bull’s neck — a pretty red ribbon.

  And she saw the blood trickling down from the small wound.

  “Ole! Ole! ” everyone screamed excitedly.

  The bull pawed the ground, looking round wildly. And another bandoleiro came

  — and another — and another — until the bull was plunging about, his neck half hidden by the ribbons, the blood trickling.

  Kate knew she was going to be sick.

  She put out her hand blindly and felt James take it.

  It was like a nightmare; Kate was only conscious of James’s arm round her as they pushed their way through the crowd, Kate fighting the nausea, stumbling over people.

  All she could hear was a wild frenzied shouting from the crowd:

  “Ole! Ole! Ole! ”

  Somehow she found herself in a cloakroom, being sick, then washing her face and hands, trying not to hear the excited screams, not to picture ...

  James was apologetic as he drove her back to his house. “I ought to have known,” he kept saying. “I just wanted Randel to see ...” He never finished the sentence, for a car rushed round the corner on the wrong side of the road and James was too busy slamming on brakes, righting his car out of a skid, to talk.

  James told his mother that Kate should go to bed. “I’ll explain to the others,” he promised. “Her nerves are shot to pieces.”

  Kate saw the understanding look that passed between him and his mother.

  “Kate and Rosa must spend the night here,” Mrs. McCormack said firmly.

  Kate was thankful to lie between the cool sheets, close to her eyes, to try to forget the look on the bull’s face. Cruelty of any sort always distressed her.

  Natala could not understand her. “To us — it is a chance for a man to show how brave he is,” she tried to explain.

  “But if you could have seen the poor bull’s face—” Natala shook her head. “The bull — he has no heart, no feelings.” It was useless, Kate saw. They just thought of it from a different angle.

  Mrs. McCormack told her that James had returned to the bullfight. That several picadors were injured but not seriously.

  “I gather,” she finished dryly, “that Mariana enjoyed herself.”

  “She must have been very triumphant about me,” Kate said miserably. “She said I had no stomach for a fight.”

  “I should hope not, dear,” James’s mother said warmly. “I wouldn’t go to one.” She smiled at Kate.

  “I don’t think it’s brave for all those men to attack one bull,” Kate said.

  “Darling, neither do I, but—different countries, different ways. I think James was shocked by Mariana’s intense excitement. On the other hand, Kate, we have our fox-hunting — our stag-hunts. Yet we don’t call that cruel.”

  “I do,” Kate said stubbornly.

  In the morning, Mrs. McCormack telephoned Randel Lister. Kate was in the room, a little surprised at Mrs. McCormack’s rather dictatorial tone. It worked, though, and Mrs. McCormack discovered that Senhora Dominguez had not passed on her message that Kate and Rosa would sleep at the Villa Paradis.

  “I’m worried about Kate,” Mrs. McCormack said bluntly to Randel. “She suffered a lot when Rosa disappeared. She is on edge — that’s why she can hardly bear to let the child out of her sight. It’s not good for either of them. This — this bullfight has just tipped the scales. My doctor is seriously concerned—” She smiled at Kate.

  It was a white lie! “I am leaving tomorrow to stay in my cottage at Pumgeni,” she went on. “I wondered if you would permit Kate and Rosa to come with me for a few weeks.

  It is an ideal setting, right on the beach, plenty of shade, and a safe paddling pool for Rosa.”

  In the end, after a very short discussion, Mrs. McCormack turned triumphantly to Kate as she replaced the telephone receiver.

  “He seemed quite relieved,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

  Kate sighed. “I expect he is. Now he can have Mariana without any encumbrances.” She turned her head away, for her eyes were filling with stupid tears.

  She was wondering how she could bear to be two hundred miles away from him.

  Yet she should start getting used to that — for soon it might be six thousand miles!

  C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N

  THE McCormack’s cottage was beautiful, hidden from the road by weeping willows and tall graceful palms, while down the windy side loomed dark cypresses, looking statuesque against the brilliantly light sky, where you could sit on the wide terrace, gazing over velvet-smooth lawns which ran right down to the white sand which was lapped by the blue waters of the Indian Ocean.

  It. was not a cottage in the sense that Kate would have used the word, for it had large gracious rooms and so many servants that she lost count. It was sheer luxury to be there after the dingy, frightening atmosphere of the Pensao Fadora.

  Rosa obviously loved the cottage too. She seemed immediately relaxed, almost as thou
gh she also felt safe. There was a plump African girl called Beauty who took charge of Rosa, and Rosa liked her from the beginning.

  “I thought you needed a real rest, Kate dear,” Mrs. McCormack said, a little apologetically, as she saw the look on Kate’s face as Rosa went off, quite happily, for a walk with Beauty. “And Rosa should get used to other people.” Kate smiled at her. “You’re so right. I’ve been thinking that for some time. It was just — just that there was no one I could trust. I can’t help feeling that if Randel does marry Mariana, they will come back here to live. I don’t, for one moment, think that Rosa will ever become what he calls an English child. And if that happens, Rosa must get used to trusting people.” She sighed. “You know, I’m not even sure that Randel wants Rosa to be an English child now.”

  “He’s a strange man,” Mrs. McCormack said.

  “Strange, indeed,” Kate agreed, and closed her eyes quickly, hoping Mrs.

  McCormack could not read her unhappy thoughts.

  After two weeks of lazing, “not lifting a finger to do anything,” as Kate put it, with good food, plenty of sleep, and this lovely serene atmosphere, Kate felt a different girl.

  She had lost the tension, the nervous “looking over her shoulder habit that worried James so much, even the quick aggressive protective movements she had made

  instinctively towards Rosa if anyone spoke to her. Now she could almost laugh at her fears about the Dominguez.

  James drove Natala down to the cottage for a long weekend. Natala, also, was a new person. Her eyes followed James about, like, according to Mrs. McCormack’s description, an adoring spaniel. To Natala, James was a god. Not that Kate was surprised. Especially when she heard Natala’s latest news.

  “He sends me to America! There is the latest treatment. He says I may even be a complete cure,” Natala said in an awed whisper. “He is so good, so kind. He even tries to help Antonio.”

  James told them about it later. “You were quite right. It was Mariana’s fine hand behind that abduction of Rosa.” He looked grim. “Vidal was a mass of frightened jelly

  – they don’t treat their prisoners as s V.I.P. s in Mozambique, you know — and I easily got the truth out of him. Mariana promised him no one would know — that it was the joke!”

  “But why should she do such a thing? How could she be so cruel?” Kate asked.

  James shrugged. “I suppose she didn’t see it as no idea of what it means to love a child — to worry so desperately about its being frightened. I guess she wanted Lister to think you were not capable of looking after Rosa.” He smiled ruefully.

  “Funny — I dropped some pretty broad hints to Lister as to who was behind the plot, and for one moment I thought he was going to hit me. I’ve never seen him so angry. Anyhow, I managed to persuade him that Vidal had been badly scared, that Rosa was not hurt, nor even frightened, that it had been done as a peculiar idea of humor. Then Lister contradicted me. He said that Vidal had done it solely out of revenge because of the way he had been treated by you, Kate. That you encouraged him and then snubbed him.” Before Kate could speak, James lifted a hand “Don’t say it, Kate, we all know that’s a lie. It was Mariana’s story, of course.

  What a woman!”

  “James,” Kate ventured to say, “I always thought you were in love with her.” James’s head shot up in surprise as he stared at her. “Me? In love with her?

  Heavens, no. She may be attractive, amusing — even astounding. But to be in love with her! Are you mad, Kate?” He stared at her so strangely that she felt quite uncomfortable. Then she realized the silence in the room and that both Natala and Mrs. McCormack were gazing at her.

  “So what happened to Antonio?” Mrs. McCormack said hastily, almost as if she wanted to save the situation. But why? What situation was there?

  Natala beamed. “Ah — that you should ask! It is so wonderful.” She beamed at James, worshipping him, as his mother would have said. James looked sheepish and then winked at Kate.

  “Look, isn’t life ironical? If you want a girl to think you’re wonderful, do something for the man she loves — the joke being, of course, that it doesn’t benefit you at all.” He told them that Vidal was working for him. “I think he’ll turn out all right. He got in with a bad crowd, drinking, gambling, and also fell under Mariana’s spell. I think he’s a bit disillusioned about her.”

  “Oh, he is,” Natala said happily. “But tell them the rest of it.”

  “Antonio is escorting Natala to America for me. He will act as my agent and also put through some quite important deals. I think he needs responsibility. I’ll give it to him. I’m also giving him some introductions. We think they — I mean he—” James gave Natala a conspiratorial wink. “—may settle out there.”

  “It would be so wonderful!” Natala said, her face glowing.

  Just before James took Natala back to Lourengo Marques, Natala had a letter from a friend. She took it excitedly to the terrace to read it to them all. She was triumphant.

  “I have been making the enquiry about the Dominguez,” she told them. “This, then, is what I have heard. It says the same as the story I heard before, but this, now, is the certain truth. These people were in Lourengo Marques at the time — they remembered the talk, the questions, the thoughts. Listen, if you please.” James met Kate’s eyes with an amused smile, but they settled down obediently while Natala installed herself on a straight chair before them, looking grave as a judge.

  She told them that no one knew where the Dominguez came from originally.

  One moment they were not there — and then they were.

  She began to giggle. “We say maybe they come on the magic rug.”

  “More likely broomsticks,” James suggested. Natala ignored the remark. “No one hears of them and then, hey presto, there they were. Accepted by Senhor Lister, settled in a manage, looking after his child. It was queer. People talked, gossiped, wondered, then shrugged their shoulders and thought the obvious.” Natala’s cheeks turned a dull red for a moment as she looked hastily at James’s mother. But Mrs. McCormack was only looking puzzled.

  “They must have been his in-laws, though, if Mr. Lister gave them the baby.” It was Kate’s turn. “He told me he had no idea that his wife had any relations at all. He thought she must have run away from home. Maybe there was an arranged marriage that was distasteful, he said.” Natala nodded, and Kate went on, “Or just that she wanted to see the world and her family didn’t like it. Anyhow she never mentioned them, and he was sure she was an orphan. It was only when he was so desperate after losing his wife and wondering what to do with the baby that his in-laws miraculously turned up.”

  “He must have been very glad to see them,” Mrs. McCormack remarked.

  “Oh, he was,” Kate said earnestly. “He sounded as though he was desperate at the time. He loved Candida so very much, and then to lose her, and have a baby to care for. He has no relatives. His parents are dead. He never hears from his brothers, they have all drifted apart. He said it was wonderful when the Senhora and Mariana arrived, though he had a terrible time with them, for they were hysterical with grief.

  They said that they had heard she was very ill, dying, and had come at once. He thought it rather odd that he had not known anything about them, so he was sure that Candida had quarrelled with them — and that now it was too late they had forgiven her. He never liked to ask about the quarrel — they were too unhappy.” Natala lowered her voice. “My friend says that all are afraid of them — the Dominguez. No one dare make trouble lest a spell be cast.” She saw James’s sceptical smile and shook her finger at him. “I am telling you — it is not all moonshine, Senhor James. Things have happened. That, I am sure, was why Antonio stole the bebe. He is not a bad man, that one. Just a little weak,” she said tenderly, as if it was a virtue. “I know that he fears the Senhora greatly.” Kate shivered. “So do I. I don’t blame him. I dread the thought of going back there.”

  James looked at her. “You don’t
need to think about that for a long time, Kate. I gather Lister is only too happy for you to be here with us.” Natala was turning the letter over in her hand. She looked up, eyes bright, still hesitating. “I know not if to tell you this. If they guessed ...” She shivered. It seemed to Kate that everyone shivered when they talked of the Dominguez, so it was not only her imagination that cloaked them with such melodramatic garb. She saw that Natala, while nervous, was longing to tell them.

  “They say ... that it is believed that the Senhora and Mariana were not related to the Senhor Lister’s wife at all.”

  The startling words fell into the room, leaving a long silence.

  “But Mariana is Candida’s sister,” Kate said.

  “Mariana says so. Can she prove it?” Natala asked, shrugging her shoulders.

  James was frowning. “That’s quite an accusation, Natala. Are you implying that they have succeeded in deceiving Lister for all these years? I’m sure he would have demanded proof before handing over the baby.”

  “I wonder,” Mrs. McCormack said, at once. “Picture yourself in such a situation, James. Your wife has died, you are stranded with a sick, helpless baby, your employers expect you to carry on with your job and not allow your personal problems to take precedence. You know what big firms are like.” Her voice was crisp.

  “Randel must have been desperate. A home or foster parents for his child? Then, out of the blue, along come his wife’s heartbroken mother and sister. How could he ask them for proof?”

  “You must think, Senhor James,” Natala said in a demure voice, her eyes wide.

  “When you have a Mariana who cries and clings to you, for she is heartbroken, can you then ask for birth certificates?”

  It wasn’t very funny, but Natala’s voice and expression made them all collapse with laughter. Perhaps it was as well, Kate thought, for she had been tensed up, before, with anger for Randel’s having been so deceived.

  Mrs. McCormack was obviously thinking it all out. “But — but what did the Dominguez get out of it? I mean, that dreadful Pensio ...” James and Natala stared at her as if she was mad. “Mother — all these years, Randel has kept both these women. Paid their expenses, paid for all sorts of extras, for, knowing him, I know he would never query them. The Senhora is at ease in a place like that. I’m sure many of Mariana’s trips away have been paid for by Randel