Read Doctor at Villa Ronda Online
Authors: Iris Danbury
Doctor at Villa Ronda (9 page)
“And the houses have stood up all this time?” she queried.
“Oh, yes. They’re solidly built, not just canvas and plaster.”
As they walked through the various squares and up the narrow, twisting streets, he pointed out replicas of typical houses found in Andalusia and Catalonia, Castille and Navarra and all the other provinces of Spain.
“But they haven’t made it a dead showpiece,” Patrick said. “All kinds of crafts go on in the workshops and there are shops to sell the products.”
Nicola was charmed to see leather purses actually being embossed and decorated and could not resist buying a couple. At a small printing shop she bought some Christmas cards illustrating scenes from Don Quixote.
“
Look, Patrick, straight from a hand press. None of my friends in England would be able to match that.” Other shops sold hand-woven textiles and there was even tucked away under an archway a blacksmith’s forge where ironwork was fashioned.
“I could spend days here,” she said happily.
“Why don’t we?” returned Patrick.
She laughed. “Since both of us have to work, that’s not a very sensible question!”
They returned to the miniature Plaza Mayor, which Patrick said was similar to the one in Madrid. One side was a balcony cafe and Nicola was glad of the opportunity to rest her feet and drink coffee.
“We must come here again when they have a fiesta,” Patrick suggested. “Sometimes they dance the Sardana in costume, or they have entertainments on Sundays for children. All kinds of shows go on here.”
“Yes, we must make a date,” she replied. After a pause, she added, “Dr. Montal found a girl in hospital whom he thought might be Lisa. I went to see her this morning. But she wasn’t Lisa.”
“Disappointing,” he said almost curtly.
“
Not really,” Nicola said hastily. “This girl was in a
very unhappy state. Mental breakdown, I think. I hope never to see Lisa like that.”
Patrick was silent, and Nicola had the impression that in some way he was relieved that Lisa had not been traced.
“You didn’t like Lisa, did you?” she questioned.
“If you must know the truth, no, I didn’t.”
“Any particular reason? Or shouldn’t I ask that?”
Patrick sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just that she was the kind of girl I don’t care for. Too mercenary. Too eager to have a good time. You see, Nicola, you’re paying for her good time, and if she knew about it she’d laugh and tell you what a fool you were.”
Nicola smiled. “I think you’re a little hard on her. Anyway, I shall be able to pay off the debts quickly, thanks to Dr. Montal’s generous salary. After that, I shall be able to enjoy my own good time with money to fling about like Spanish gold.”
He gazed across the table at her, his eyes stared with an intensity that slightly disconcerted her. “Your idea of a good time isn’t the same as Lisa’s,” he said at last. “But I’m glad you’ll get a run for your money later on. I may not be here when you polish off the final debts. I’m due home in September.”
“For a holiday?”
“In a way, yes. I’m getting married.” He turned his head away to look across the
plaza.
“My
fiancée
lives in Sussex.”
“
But you’ll come back here to your firm—with your wife?”
“
H’m. I don’t know. I have a contract with the firm, but it’ll expire about that time and I don’t know if we shall renew it. But we’ll let the future take care of itself.”
“Then let me wish you every happiness,” said Nicola quietly with a smile.
He gave her a swift glance. “Thanks, Nicola,” he said, but his tone was cool.
She caught sight of the clock on the opposite side of the square. “Heavens! Is that the time?” she excl
aimed
in dismay. “It’s gone five o’clock and I promised to meet the doctor.”
“What? At this hour?” Patrick queried.
“Yes, at five.” She was gathering her handbag and the small parcels of shopping.
“
If I’d known, we could have had a decent lunch. I thought you had the rest of the evening free and then we could have dinner together. Why didn’t you say so?”
“It didn’t occur to me,” she said lamely. “Anyway, I don’t want to take up all your free time.”
He frowned. “Where are you meeting this all-important boss of yours?”
Nicola bit her
li
p in vexation. “I’m not sure. He didn’t make any definite arrangement as to place—except that he suggested the Spanish village.”
“So therefore if you didn’t accept his suggestion, he’d expect you to let him know by telephone where you’d gone?” Patrick raised his eyebrows mockingly. “He certainly keeps tabs on you. Doesn’t like you roaming around Barcelona on your own.”
Nicola smiled rather nervously. Patrick’s acid comments had solved her problem. “Thank you for such a nice afternoon,” she said hurriedly. “I’ve enjoyed it, but I apologise for leaving you so early. I ought to have explained.”
He smiled, apparently having recovered his normal good humour. “Don’t worry, Nicola. It’s as I said. You’re so different from Lisa. She wouldn’t have cared two hoots about keeping a promise, employer or anyone else. I’ll come out to the exit with you in case his lordship hasn’t arrived.”
B
ut as soon as Nicola reached the exit and walked down to the road through the park she saw Sebastian Montal’s car. She said goodbye to Patrick, thanked him again for a pleasant afternoon, and ran towards the car. Dr. Montal opened the door without a word.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Dr. Montal,” she said contritely.
“Who was the young man you were with?” he asked, ignoring her apology.
“
He’s English. He works at the firm of wine-shippers where my sister worked for a time. He’s been helpful to me.”
“
Oh? In what way?”
“
Well, he had known Lisa for a short time and he was able to give me information about her. He was someone with whom I could discuss the problem. He even offered to find me a job in his firm if he could.”
“
But I gather he was not successful. I believe you said there was no immediate vacancy there.”
“
Yes, that’s so. But it was kind of Patrick to try to help me.”
D
r. Montal had sounded so critical of Patrick that in turn her voice took on a defiant note.
“
Are you in love with this man—Patrick?”
T
he question took her by surprise, but she did not hesitate in her reply. “No, indeed! He’s a good friend. Besides, he’s engaged to a girl in England and later in the year he’s going back to marry her.”
T
hat should settle the doctor’s uncertainties, she thought with satisfaction.
H
e drove for some minutes before he spoke again.
“
I asked if you were in love with him—not he with you,” he said brusquely.
“
The situation doesn’t arise, Dr. Montal,” she answered stiffly. Why must he catechise her like this? What business was it of his if she and Patrick fell in love?
“
Is there someone in England with whom you have —as the English so often say—an understanding?”
“
No one at all,” she snapped.
“
Good. I like to know where we stand in these matters. I apologise for my curiosity.”
H
e gave her a warm smile and began to ask her about her visit to the Spanish village.
S
he thought his change of mood entirely remarkable, but since there was no point in maintaining a hostile relationship with her employer Nicola matched his geniality.
I
t was only when she arrived at the Villa Ronda and went to her room that it now occurred to her why
Patrick might be so hypercritical about her working for the doctor. Possibly he had been disappointed that he had not succeeded in obtaining a job for her with his own firm and therefore annoyed that she had grabbed at the first available chance elsewhere.
It could hardly matter to him now, for he would be returning to England in a few months’ time. It was more important to Nicola that Dr. Montal seemed reasonably content with her secretarial services. How she succeeded in the other half of her dual post, as companion to Adrienne, was another matter. In this direction the doctor was easily displeased, and Nicola knew she must be careful not to make careless blunders.
CHAPTER IV
Nicola
was resting on her balcony overlooking the flowered patio when Adrienne approached from below. “Come down and bathe!” she called.
“In the pool?” queried Nicola.
“
No, in the sea. We’ll go to the beach house.”
A few moments later Adrienne came into Nicola’s room. She was bubbling with high spirits.
“Oh, this has been a day!”
“You’ve been up to mischief, I can tell,” Nicola said with mock severity.
“No, truly, I have been working hard painting all day. But tell me—did you find your sister?”
N
icola shook her head. “The girl was not Lisa.”
“
Ah. A pity.” After
a momentary pause, Adrienne con
tinued, “Dona Elena called quite early, as I knew she would. Oh, she pretended it was pure chance, but I know Sebastian had warned her to come and follow me.”
“Well, what harm was there in that?”
Adrienne exploded with laughter. “None to me. But poor Elena! She is so tired, walking all those kilometres. You see, when I am painting, naturally I have several canvases not finished. I wait for them to dry, so today I worked on numerous scenes. Elena had to follow where I went. Down to the beach, then up the hill, along the road, down again to the harbour.”
“That was very naughty of you. Inconsiderate, too,” said Nicola.
“Do not blame me! Blame Sebastian!” Adrienne was all pious indignation. “If he had told me that Dona Elena was to be my jailer in your absence, I would have treated her more politely, but when she came uninvited by me, then she must put up with my plans already arranged.”
On the way down to the beach house, Nicola told Adrienne of her own day and that she had met Patrick.
“You must invite this young man to our party,” suggested Adrienne. “Then you will have more freedom to flirt with all the other young men there.”
“How does that follow?” queried Nicola.
“Naturally. If you have no special companion of your own, then you are not free to capture someone else’s admirer. But with a man to exchange, the position is simple.”
The two girls had reached the beach chalet and Nicola stood for a moment outside the door, convulsed with helpless laughter at Adrienne’s sophisticated philosophy.
“You make it sound like a French farce,” she spluttered at last. “Tossing men about as though they were children’s balls!”
“
That is the true essence of a party,” declared Adrienne. As she changed into her swimsuit, Nicola reflected that now that she knew that Patrick was engaged it would be reasonable to invite him to a festivity at the villa. There would be no suggestion that she was trying to impose on
a friendship and, after all, he had shown her a great deal of courtesy and hospitality.
The cove which was apparently private property belonging to the Villa Ronda was probably an ideal setting for a seashore party, thought Nicola, as she surveyed it from the gentle tossing waves. She could already imagine it, lit with lanterns, alive with music and the sound of laughter.
Tonight the two girls dined alone with Sebastian, this time in the shadowed dining room. Adrienne was all bubbling gaiety, but Nicola instinctively felt that under Sebastian’s calm exterior a threatening storm was brewing.
“
Tomorrow evening,” he said casually, when the meal was nearly finished, “we shall be dining on Ramon’s yacht. I suppose, Adrienne, that if I give you a day’s warning, you can manage to be ready by eight o’clock?”
She grimaced at him. “I will do my best.”
N
icola did not jump to the conclusion that the arrangement included herself, but Sebastian, perhaps understanding that she could not ask such a question, said, “Of course you will come with us, Nicola.”
“
Thank you.” She smiled at him, appreciating his tact. The doctor himself drove the two girls down to the harbour next evening. Nicola supposed that the chauffeur, Ignacio, could hardly be expected to guess the time he would be required to bring the party home and Sebastian was too considerate of his staff to keep the man waiting there needlessly.
Nicola was doubly glad now that she had recently bought a new evening dress of dull satin in a glowing sapphire shade that enhanced her blue eyes and put highlights into her mid-brown hair.
Adrienne, in her turquoise and silver lame dress, looked like a particularly innocent and vulnerable angel with her long fair hair and flawless complexion. Nicola was beginning to understand that a guileless appearance could often be belied by a single mischievous glance from Adrienne’s eyes.
