Doctor at Villa Ronda (16 page)

Nicola clasped her hands tightly, willing herself not even to try if the drawer were locked. She could not stoop to this mean, despicable act. Even the thought brought a shamed blush to her cheeks and she ran out of the room as though a demon were pursuing her.

The prospect of a trip in the lovely
Clorinda
now riding at anchor in the harbour should have excited her, but she thought of the miles of sea separating her from Sebastian. Yet she welcomed the breathing space that a fortnight in San Fernando might provide. Perhaps by the time she returned she would have her emotions under better control and be able to view events in their proper perspective. She tried not to remember that Sebastian had promised that he might come later to Ramon’s house in San Fernando. At this moment, Nicola hardly knew whether she would be glad or sorry.

The
Clorinda
sailed during the early evening with much hauling of ropes from the mooring buoys and clanking of anchor chains. Besides the crew of three or four men, Ramon had his skipper aboard, a stout, podgy man with a small dark moustache, expressive eyes and a gentle but authoritative manner. When the yacht glided out of the harbour and turned for the open sea, Adrienne pointed out to Nicola the Villa Ronda, a white patch set in a clump of green trees high up above the shore. Nicola wondered wistfully if Sebastian happened to be on the “Mediterranean balcony” watching the yacht’s departure, but that was a silly, vain thought that should never have entered her head. He was probably not yet back from his hospital duty in Barcelona.

Since there was no time-table hurry Ramon decided on a leisurely cruising speed, and the night steamer from Barcelona to San Fernando soon passed the yacht with much waving from passengers on the steamer’s crowded decks.

N
icola reflected on her good fortune to be travelling in such luxurious style, and Patrick’s remark echoed in her mind. “... the sort of life Lisa was looking for. Comfort, security and plenty of amusement. .

His words described Nicola’s present mode of life. Surely she could be content with that and not sigh for the moon as well!

Ramon’s chef, Juan, had apparently spent all day concocting a celebration dinner for the party on board.
Gazpacho,
the delicious iced soup, was followed by a
zarzuela,
an assortment of fried fish and seafood in a sauce of laurel leaves, wine and tomatoes. Then, as this was still San Juan’s day, the chef served his special version of the little round cakes appropriate to his name
-
saint.

Elena as hostess to her brother was at her most charming and Nicola was only too eager to comply with her mood. To be staying eventually in Ramon’s house and be at loggerheads with his sister would be undeniably uncomfortable.

Nicola’s cabin was romantically elegant in turquoise and cream, while the adjoining bathroom which she shared with Adrienne was panelled in a blurred pattern of sea-green tiles, giving the impression that one was in an ocean-cave.

After a short walk around the deck after dinner to watch moonlight creaming the yacht’s wake, to gaze at the stars in the vast arch of inky sky, Nicola was glad to retire to her cabin. Lulled by the murmuring hum of the yacht’s engines, she fell asleep almost instantly and it seemed only a couple of minutes before Inez, Adrienne’s maid, brought in a breakfast tray of coffee and rolls and fruit.

When she bathed and dressed and went up on deck, she was amazed to see that the
Clorinda
was about to enter San Fernando harbour, a vast sheet of water backed by blue sky, the spires and towers of the ancient cathedral dominating the hill. A crescent of dazzling hotels, white or golden coloured, swept along the harbour edge to the distant point

“We shall stay a day here,” Ramon told her. “Then you can see some of the fine buildings, visit the shops, the markets, just as you choose.”

Nicola smiled at him. “You think of everything for the passengers’ comfort and enjoyment.”

He returned her smile, put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a friend
l
y shake. “That is my pleasure, as well as my duty.”

“But he does not tell you why he must first come to San Fernando town,” Adrienne’s voice broke in behind them. “He has to report to the authorities that he has arrived.”

Ramon’s face drooped scornfully. “Oh, Adrienne,
querida,
you must learn not to spoil my fine speeches.” He put an arm around each of the girls. “Come, you must prepare for going ashore, and get out of my way or the skipper will grumble at me.”

Nicola thought, as she had on previous occasions, that there was something about Ramon so engaging, so lighthearted and amiable, that it was a pity that Adrienne could regard him only as her future betrothed and not as a man to be adored and loved for his charming qualities.

The day was exciting enough with Adrienne to show Nicola some of the attractions of San Fernando.

“You must see the cathedral another time,” Adrienne advised. “It is very beautiful and deserves a leisurely stroll through it. Also, we will take you one day to the glassworks near the harbour where you can see men making very lovely pieces.”

She conducted Nicola through some of the old streets where the Arab quarter had once been and where it was easy to imagine dark-eyed girls peering from barred windows. A long, winding flight of steps was edged with small shops selling leather articles, souvenirs, baskets and shoes. Suddenly at the top of the steps a large, a
r
caded square opened out, with cafes at almost every point.

Nicola was glad of a long, cool drink of brandy and soda with ice.

“
After lunch,” said Adrienne, “we will look at the paintings in the open air down near the harbour. Painters arrange them under the palm trees.”

Nicola smiled. “How fortunate the climate is so reliable! In England the artist would probably have to cover them three times a day because of the rain.”

Adrienne laughed. “Also because of the fog?”

Lunch at one of the fashionable hotels along the Paseo Maritimo was a lengthy affair, especially when Adrienne insisted on a siesta in the hotel garden, but at four o’clock Nicola suggested, “Why don’t we drive along the promenade in one of those basket-work carriages? They look as though they would be fun, and you can still finish your nap riding along.”

Adrienne agreed, and the two girls found a sleepy driver with an equally sleepy horse which consented to plod sedately along the Paseo with the two girls in the woven cane carriage.

“I feel a mad desire to wave to the passers-by,” said Nicola. “You know, royal salute and all that.”

“Then please choose only the very old men and the women,” advised Adrienne, taking Nicola’s remark seriously, “or else the young men will walk alongside and make
piropos
.”

Nicola laughed. “Oh, I know what they are. Extravagant compliments that mean exactly nothing. ‘A man might die happy kissing your dear little elbow—that sort of thing.’ All right, I won’t wave to anyone.”

The carriage took the girls to the far end of the promenade and had returned nearly to the starting point when Nicola, idly glancing along the Paseo, suddenly saw a girl staring at her.

Her heart leapt with excitement. “Lisa! Lisa!” she cried out. Then without thinking she jumped out of the slow moving carriage on to the roadway, ran back to the spot where she had seen her sister, but the girl had vanished.

Nicola stood bewildered, then dashed to the entrance of a small garden adjacent to one of the hotels. Two
waiters, their feet resting on a table, regarded her with surprise.

“
Senorita
?”
one asked.

Hurriedly in stammering Spanish she asked if they had seen a young girl in a red and white dress, dark hair, slim.

“
No aqui
,”
the other waiter answered. Not here.

Nicola could see that for herself for there was no one else in the garden. She thanked them and went across the road slowly to where the carriage had stopped. Adrienne had alighted and now looked concerned as Nicola approached.

“
What is the matter, Nicola?” she asked. “I was half asleep and suddenly you had jumped out of the carriage.”

“I saw my sister. I’m sure it was Lisa. Then she disappeared.”

“Come and sit in the carriage,” urged Adrienne. “You look most white.”

“The girl was exactly like Lisa,” reiterated Nicola in a dull toneless voice.

“But your sister would not run away when she saw you. You must have been mistaken.”

“She had Lisa’s face, her hair, her height, everything.”

“While we are in San Fernando we could make enquiries,” suggested Adrienne. “We could try the
Guardia Civil."

Nicola shivered, then tried to recover her poise. “Oh, it was probably just a girl who resembled my sister. Think no more about it
.
”

She had the best of reasons for not contacting the police if that could be avoided, reasons unknown to either Adrienne or Sebastian.

Adrienne instructed the driver to stop at the harbour end of the promenade and paid him off.

“Now,” she said to Nicola, “we will inspect the pictures.”

Under a double row of huge palm trees several artists had their open-air galleries, hanging their pictures on thin lines of stretched rope. Nicola strolled with Adrienne,
who stopped now and again to study the pictures in detail, but Nicola’s mind was far from appreciation of art at this moment. If that girl had really been Lisa why had she disappeared when there was everything to gain by being reunited with Nicola? Or had Lisa other reasons for avoiding any contact at all?

Adrienne’s attention was caught by a glowing scene of one of San Fernando’s old streets, a painting that held all the pulsating colour and mystery of what might lie within the walls. She nodded. “That is very good indeed.”

The artist was at her elbow, unobtrusive but attentive. They began to talk in Spanish, discussing the points of first one picture then another.

Nicola moved away and sat on a bench by the edge of a flower-bed where closely-packed succulent plants substituted for grass turf which would already have been scorched and withered by the hot sun. Was she beginning to see Lisa’s face in other girls, as she fancied she had seen the young Spaniard who had once called at Lisa’s flat?

Adrienne concluded her deal with the artist and returned with the painting she had purchased wrapped in polythene.

“One artist must help another,” she said. “Perhaps he does not really need the money, but it is pleasant to sell your work sometimes.”

Nicola roused herself to make some vague remark in agreement.

“When we arrive at Ramon’s house,” continued Adrienne, “you should try your hand at painting. Perhaps you will be so good that I shall be madly jealous of your talent.”

Nicola managed a smile. “No fear of that! I’ve done very little since I left school except paint a couple of backcloths for a dramatic society.”

“But that is very good for you. To paint something large makes you use broad strokes so that you do not—er fidget—is that the right word?”

“
I think you mean ‘niggle’,” supplied Nicola, aware
that Adrienne was making conversation to help her over the shock of even imagining that she had seen Lisa. Yet long after she and Adrienne had returned to the yacht for dinner the girl’s face haunted Nicola. If only the
Clorinda
could have stayed in San Fernando harbour for a few more days instead of leaving tomorrow for Cala Castell at the other end of the island! Ashore in the town of San Fernando there was a possibility that Nicola might see the girl again, but at Cala Castell that would be out of the question.

After dinner when the huge harbour was pricked with lights and shimmering reflections, Dona Elena announced, “I am going tomorrow by car to our house at Cala Castell. Perhaps, Adrienne, you would like to accompany me with the Senorita Brettell? It is tedious to remain on the yacht. Ramon will bring that to Cala Castell.”

Ramon smiled gently. “A ship is a lady. I will take
her
to Cala Castell.”

Adrienne remained thoughtful for a moment. “As you wish,” she said at last to Elena. “It will give Nicola a chance of seeing the interior of the island.”

Nicola knew that she had no choice in the matter. If she could not stay indefinitely in San Fernando town and search for Lisa, then it hardly mattered whether she went to Cala Castell by sea or land. Yet her commonsense reminded her that searching for Lisa in San Fernando would be just as fruitless as in Barcelona. The towns were too big and a tiny village might have yielded results, but then Lisa would probably never be found in a small place. She liked life and gaiety, lights and dancing.

In spite of her depression Nicola found the drive to Cala Castell full of interest. Ramon’s car with a driver was waiting at the harbour when she accompanied Dona Elena and Adrienne ashore.

There were districts of San Fernando that Nicola had not had time to see, the melon market, newly constructed streets to replace old congested alleys and buildings, but designed with care and artistry to blend with ancient surroundings. Out in the country they drove through
small villages of golden stone where the houses were shuttered and few people appeared. Sometimes doors hung with chain curtains stood open and black-clad women sat outside on the pavement or dusty doorstep preparing vegetables or busy with some other household task.