The Turquoise Sea Page 18

  C H A P T E R F I F T E E N

  IT was very pleasant at Komi Bay. Although it was crowded with visitors, there was room for all. There were specially trained life-savers, great, handsome, stalwart young men who lounged around, displaying coffee-brown sun-tanned biceps. The girls followed their every movement with bright eyes and eager voices. Randel, Mariana, James and Kate all swam. Someone lent them surfboards and Kate enjoyed herself, learning to come in on the great sleepy rollers, landing on the beach in a swirl of foaming water, scrambling up, shaking herself like a retriever, swimming out to try again.

  It was fascinating. At first James helped her. Then he wandered over to Mariana, who was swimming with elegance and not much strength and looking bored. Kate thought with a pang of sympathy that it must be hard for James. She realized just how he felt. She had the same misery every time she saw Randel with Mariana.

  Randel came up to Kate. “I’ve a headache,” he said. “I’m going up. Are you all right?”

  James and Mariana were already sitting under the great beach umbrella. James was laughing. Maybe it helped him if Kate wasn’t near.

  “I’m fine, thanks,” she assured him. “I’m enjoying it.” Randel smiled. “Good. Don’t go past the flags, though.”

  “I’m too scared of the sharks.”

  She came in after half a dozen futile attempts and had the most successful run of all. As she stood up in the foaming, swirling, lace-like water, a boy near her grinned, “Nice work!”

  Kate smiled back and turned towards the sands. She had really had enough now.

  She carried her board and the waiter was barely waist deep.

  She saw something swirl by her. Something long, steel-grey and shiny—

  And a voice called “Sharks!”

  Then everything happened at once. She turned and the shape was there again —

  slithering towards her. Even as she screamed, she felt something touch her leg. She stumbled forward and fell. People were screaming — falling over, bumping into her.

  The water that swirled round her was red ... Blood red.

  Suddenly she found she was out of the water — being carried. Fighting waves of nausea, she stared up into Randel’s face.

  He held her so tightly that she could hardly breathe.

  He looked down at her. “Kate — Kate!” he said sharply. “Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know ...” she said honestly. And knew no more.

  Later, Mrs. McCormack told her, James had said they had just missed seeing the whole thing. They were watching her. James had just said that she had learned fast

  ... and Mariana called their attention to a small boat on the horizon.

  It was the sound of that fearsome cry “Sharks!” that made them turn.

  They saw Kate falling — saw the evil grey form – saw everyone stumbling —

  heard the screams.

  “James said Randel was down the beach like a streak of lightning and in the water,” Mrs. McCormack said. “James followed him and Randel could hardly walk. He staggered — and you’re no heavy-weight, dear child,” she smiled affectionately. That was the lovely thing about Mrs. McCormack, Kate thought. Even though she had hoped Kate would marry James and make him happy, Mrs.

  McCormack would never blame her, allow it to alter her affection for her.

  “I wonder why he was so upset,” Kate said. “It isn’t as if it was Mariana,” she added a little bitterly.

  “James says it must have been a shock. They both thought the shark had got you. The sea was full of blood.”

  Kate shuddered. “I know. I saw it. I thought it was me.”

  “It was a boy, poor lamb,” Mrs. McCormack’s voice thickened. “He lost a leg.” Kate caught her breath. “I wonder if it was the nice kid that spoke to me ...”

  “James will know. He visits him sometimes. The boy is an orphan, was here on holiday from one of those homes. James is thinking,” Mrs. McCormack lowered her voice, “—we are thinking of adopting him. James says he is a good boy, never moans or is sorry for himself.”

  “Oh, James ...” Kate stopped herself. She did not feel she now had the right to keep saying James was wonderful. “You could trust James.” His mother nodded. “I am blessed, aren’t I?” Openly she mopped her eyes.

  “Where were we, dear child?”

  Kate was back at the cottage, tucked up m her own bed. She had slept solidly for two days, dosed by sedatives the doctor had ordered. Already the shock was wearing off — the tender part on her leg where the shark had scraped past her was already healing. She was enjoying being treated as an important invalid, yet getting restless.

  “You said James followed Randel down to the sea,” she went on.

  “Oh yes, he took you from Randel and Randel collapsed. James said it was quite extraordinary. Everyone was rushing about madly — beating off the shark —

  people having hysterics. Then calm came out of the chaos, he says, as an ambulance arrived. Your leg was scraped badly, but luckily not torn — of course, you were right out. Anyhow, there were nurses there and a doctor. They gave James pills for you and advised him to bring you straight home here and put you to bed. They did that, and we had the doctor. I don’t expect you remember much of the rest of the day.”

  “I was so drugged. It must have been shock. Mariana always said I would faint at the sight of blood,” Kate said, smiling ruefully. “What a thing to do!” Mrs. McCormack plumped up Kate’s pillows. “Comfortable, dear? Where was I? Oh, yes ...” She lowered her voice and looked over her shoulder. “You know, dear, I think Randel had a bad shock. He’s so odd. He sits staring at Mariana the whole time.”

  “Probably thinking how awful if it had been her,” Kate suggested.

  Mrs. McCormack looked shocked. “I suppose it could be. You know, dear child, what James told me? He said Mariana saw the shark. That that was the reason she called their attention to the ship. He is sure of it. She deliberately diverted their attention from you, James said.” Mrs. McCormack’s whisper was horrified.

  “Can you believe that any woman could be so wicked?” Kate found herself shivering. Instinctively she caught hold of Mrs.

  McCormack’s warm plump hand, feeling the sudden need for reassurance.

  “I — think she might,” she said. She told the older woman of the scene Rosa had witnessed. “She hit me so hard.” In memory, she touched her cheek gently. “It was so vicious. It made me think that if she had a knife—” She shivered again.

  Mrs. McCormick looked horrified. “She must be mad. James thinks that Randel knows it, too ... that Mariana saw the shark, I mean. That he is shocked, trying to understand that Mariana, whom he ...”

  “Worships,” Kate supplied the word, “could be so inhuman as to want to dispose of me.”

  She saw that she had shocked Mrs. McCormack. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

  “But you must see that I’m standing in Mariana’s way. Not really, of course, for Randel doesn’t even see me as a woman — but to Mariana, I am in the way. Next time, perhaps, she won’t fail.” Kate began to tremble again.

  Mrs. McCormack reached for the bottle of pills. “Oh dear, I am naughty. James would never forgive me. I’ve got you all upset ...” She gave Kate a pill. “Take this, dear, it’ll make you sleep.” She hovered like an anxious mother hen. “Oh, dear!” Kate did not want to sleep. She wanted to think. So she pretended to meekly swallow the pill and let it slide under the bedclothes. She hazarded a guess as to the time to allow and then feigned sleepiness. She closed her eyes and felt Mrs. McCormack tucking her up, tiptoeing out of the room. Then Kate opened her eyes, looked round her and began to think.

  She realized later that she must have dozed, for when she awoke it was that half-light before night The reflection of the lights on the terrace slid into the room, making it all look unreal and very beautiful. Suddenly Kate felt very well and had the urge to see people, to talk, to return to normal life.

  She stood up, surpri
sed to find her legs a little unsteady, and pulled on her dressing-gown. She brushed back her hair; it was hot and damp and sticky from the sea water. Thrusting her feet into mules, she opened the door. Now she could see a reflection of the veranda as it showed up in the large mirror in the lounge.

  Mariana, slim, lovely as ever in a gold lamp dress, was sipping a drink with an amused smile as she looked at James, and then back at Randel. Kate held the door post firmly, half wishing she was back in the safety of bed. Then she saw Mariana smile, heard that seductive husky voice say:

  “But why all the fuss about her? Normal people recover from a shock — Kate was always neurotic.”

  Kate moved forward, closing the door gently behind her. Now she was in the darkness with no fear of being seen. Like one hypnotized, she watched the little drama that showed so clearly in the mirror.

  James was moving, refilling glasses. Randel was sitting, slumped in a chair, looking at Mariana as if he wanted to eat her.

  Kate’s heart seemed to skid. She turned away. Why torture herself?

  Then James’s words gripped her attention. He handed the glass to Mariana and spoke to Randel. “I’ve just heard about that Fortescue case, Lister. Bad luck on them, isn’t it? But they ought to have used their brains, if they have any.” Randel moved his head slowly. He was a changed man. Kate’s heart cried out in pain, What has happened? Don’t, please don’t look like that.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Tell me, James — my James,” Mariana said gaily.

  James came to sit near her, smiling at her. “Just bad luck on a couple who are desperately in love and now find they can’t marry.” A strange cautious look crossed Mariana’s face. “Why not?” He turned away, flicked the ash off his cigarette. “She was brought up as an orphan. Has just discovered her real parents. Now she finds that her husband-to-be is the widower of her sister.” He burst out laughing, but the others did not join in.

  Randel went on staring moodily at Mariana and Mariana frowned.

  “I do not understand.”

  “I don’t expect you do,” James said cheerfully. “Boiled down to plain English it’s this — by English law, a man cannot marry his widow’s sister.”

  “She can’t?” Mariana said slowly.

  “No, she can’t,” James said, grinning. He stood up, went to the window and fastened the mosquito netting. “Pity, but there it is. It is the law.” He came back, looked at Randel. “Drink up, old man.”

  Randel looked up and seemed to come out of a dream. “You know, James, I thought that law had been passed,” he remarked.

  Kate, standing very still, leaning against the cold wall, watched them. She saw Mariana’s quick look at the two men, saw the way she pretended to be interested in the glass in her hand. Saw James look at Randel — and, despite the distance, saw him wink.

  “What? Oh!” Randel said in some confusion. “They’re trying to get it passed, are they?” He looked so confused that Kate longed to rush in and comfort him. But he would not want comfort from her ...

  To Kate’s dismay, James murmured some excuse and walked right down the corridor. He had obviously seen her, for he grinned and came to stand by her side, taking her weight on his arm which went right round her.

  “Keep still, I’ve laid a trap. Trouble is, Lister’s behaving very oddly and I wonder if he’s got the sense to make use of it,” he whispered.

  Mariana was standing up, moving round the room, turning out the lamps. Now they could only see her faintly — but they could hear her voice.

  “Randel, my Randel — what is wrong? You are angry with me.” They guessed she was sitting on the arm of his chair. Kate closed her eyes, imagining that long, cool, lovely hand stroking back the hair from Randel’s head.

  “Randel, tell me the truth, my darling. Is that why we are not married? Because I am your late wife’s sister?”

  There was silence. Kate felt James’s body tense against her, his hand tighten on hers.

  “What reason?” Randel asked dully.

  Kate felt James sigh, heard him whisper, “What’s wrong with the man?”

  “Oh, my Randel, you heard what James said. That a man cannot marry his widow’s sister. Is that why you cannot marry me?”

  “Look, Mariana—” Randel sounded beyond help, so utterly tired. “Why must we go over this again? James has told you—”

  “So!” Her voice changed, became low, soft, pleading. “You love me, Randel, that I know. That everyone knows. They see it when you look at me, hear it in your voice. They wonder at the delay. Now that I know, we can put the matter right. All will be well — we can find happiness.” Her voice soared triumphantly.

  “What are you talking about?” Randel said. Kate jumped a little. He sounded irritable, impatient. With Mariana?

  “My Randel, I have a secret to tell you. Swear you will forgive. Swear you forgive, my Randel.”

  “The needle seems to have got stuck in the groove,” James whispered wickedly in Kate’s ear. She turned to look at him in the dimness, half shocked, half amused.

  “I’m afraid poor Randel is missing his cues.”

  “What is it, Mariana?” Randel said, and it was the voice Kate knew so well —

  tolerant, forgiving, patient.

  “Randel,” Mariana was now using her most dramatic tone. “I am not your wife’s sister.”

  “What!” In the mirror, they could see he had stood up. That now Mariana was standing too, facing him, hands clasped, face lifted imploringly.

  “Do not be angry, my Randel,” she said quickly. “We were desperate —

  starving. We heard of the death, and my mother thought we could help. You took it for granted that we were her mother and sister.” She caught his arm.

  “You told me you were,” Randel exclaimed.

  “Only afterwards. It was tempting to agree. We were starving,” she pleaded.

  Kate felt James’s hand behind her, felt him turn the knob that touched her back, push open the door and lead her inside. He left her by the bed.

  “We’re best out of this,” he said. “Randel can handle it now.”

  “Oh, James, if he knew you!” Kate breathed. Poor Randel — now he knew that his beloved was a liar, a cheat ...

  James touched her arm lightly. “Hop into bed and I’ll send along some dinner.

  Mother has retired to bed with a headache.”

  “Your poor mother!”

  James bent and kissed the tip of her nose lightly. “The same old Kate,” he said gently. “Unfortunately,” he added, and left her.

  Kate lay in bed, longing to know what was happening, yearning over Randel.

  How terrible for him! So Natala’s story was true. She must write to Natala, already on her way to America and good health. And romance, for James had told Kate that he was giving Natala a very substantial “dowry” and that would fix Antonio, all right.

  James seemed to think that, with Natala behind him, Antonio might turn out all right.

  James was a sort of fairy godfather, wasn’t he, Kate thought. If only he could meet the right person! He deserved to be happy. And then she thought of Randel Lister again, and could have wept with sympathy for him.

  In the morning Mrs. McCormack announced with glee that Mariana had already left, and Randel was going that afternoon.

  “He says you and Rosa can stay another month and then he will make arrangements. I think he will take a villa. My dear ...” she lowered her voice, “James tells me that dreadful story about the Dominguez was true. What a couple!”

  “I’m sorry for Randel — it must be awful to be disillusioned,” Kate said.

  “I think you’re being sorry for the wrong person,” Mrs. McCormack said, in an unusually tart voice.

  “Where is Rosa?” Kate asked.

  Mrs. McCormack looked vague. “Around somewhere. Do you want her?”

  “No.” Kate watched the door close as she was left alone. Why wouldn’t they let her get up? Would Randel g
o off without even seeing her? How could she bear it?

  She turned her face to the pillow and the tears rolled down her cheeks. She hated herself for crying. Why was she so weak? Mariana was right – she was weak ...

  “Kate!” Randel’s voice said quietly.

  Kate turned round, and he was standing there. He looked ill at ease. Well, most men were unhappy in a sickroom, though this shouldn’t be considered a sickroom, for they were just spoiling her. Or keeping her prisoner? Had Randel said he did not want to see her? If so, why was he here? These thoughts whirled in her mind as she stared at him.

  He came forward and, with an oddly abashed gesture, gave her a spray of roses.

  “Rosa and I picked them,” he told her.

  Kate stared at him. It was the first time he had ever called Rose Rosa.

  “How is she?” she asked.

  He sat down. “Worried about you.”

  Kate swallowed. “I don’t know why she should be worried . .” He smiled — that same thrilling, never-to-be-forgotten smile. Kate felt the old magic again and her mouth was dry.

  “Kate,” he said, and took her hand gently. “Kate — is it true?” She could hardly speak. “Is what true?”

  “What Rosa tells me. That I am the only man in the world you would marry?” If ever she had prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her, it was now.

  She could not answer — could only stare at him, hypnotized by shock and embarrassment. But Randel did not wait for an answer. He hitched his chair closer to the bed, put both hands on her limp one and went on.

  “If so, I’ll be the happiest man in the whole world. I was sure you hated me, despised me. Oh, Kate!” he said, with an impulsiveness she had never seen in him before. “I’ve behaved just like a crazy mixed-up kid.” He smiled, tried to laugh. “Oh, Kate, how could I have been so blind? So bewitched? There is no excuse. I honestly thought Rosa was being looked after kindly — that they loved her, that I owed them gratitude. Now I find they were frauds — that it was a plot. But they did look after her — but in what a way! I’ve been so selfish — so stupid.” He smiled ruefully.