No Time For Love (Bantam Series No. 40) (16 page)

It was famous for its fish, but most especially for its oysters, clams and mussels.

There were fish swimming in tanks of water outside the door, and as a boy he had found it amusing to choose what he wanted to eat and watch the waiter catch it in a small net.

He entered the restaurant and gave his order for an arogosta-lobster which already cooked was lying on a green salad garnished with prawns.

“The Signor must try our
Zuppa di cozze
,”
the proprietor suggested.

Wynstan knew this was a soup made from mussels which was a speciality of the restaurant.

“Will it take long?” he asked.

“Five minutes,
Signor,
and I will serve it in a covered dish so that you can take it to your boat, as long as you promise to bring back the dish!”

“I will do that,” Wynstan answered. “Very well then, I will have the
Zuppa di cozze
and two dozen
Ostriche-
oysters. Open them and in the meantime, I will take the lobster and the wine back with me now.”

They were being packed into an open basket and Wynstan was waiting to leave the restaurant when he heard a voice he recognised.

“Wynstan! What are you doing here?”

It was Nicole, surrounded as usual by men and looking extremely attractive.

“As you see,” Wynstan answered, “I am shopping.”

“It sounds very domestic,” she smiled, “but I will not ask awkward questions. I am well aware that you could not eat all that yourself.”

“Hello, Wynstan,” the man who had joined her remarked.

“Hello, Chuck,” he said. “I have not seen you in ages.”

“I arrived this morning. Nicole told me you were in Sorrento and I had hoped we could get together and talk over old times.”

“I hope so,” Wynstan replied automatically.

“By the way,” Chuck said, “I was sorry to hear about your brother, but he really had not much chance against Roosevelt.”

“Roosevelt has been re-elected?” Wynstan asked. “I expected it!”

“Yes, he is back in the White House,” Chuck said. “If you want to read about it I have yesterday’s newspaper which I brought with me from Rome.”

“Thank you,” Wynstan said.

“Do come on, Chuck,” Nicole interposed, “you know we have people for dinner and we shall be late if you do not hurry.”

She paused to say to Wynstan:

“Join us if you feel like it. You know I want to see you.”

“I am afraid I shall be too late,” Wynstan replied.

She had received his note, he thought, and she was really behaving quite sensibly about it.

“Here is the newspaper,” Chuck said.

He handed it to Wynstan and hurried after Nicole who, with the two other men in the party, was already walking towards the jetty.

Wynstan picked up the rest of his purchases but gave them time to move away in a motor-boat which was not as up-to-date as his own and which required two crew to run it.

He then walked back to the ‘Napier Minor’ and saw Larina smiling at him from the cabin as he stepped aboard.

“Here is the first course, at any rate,” he said handing her the wicker basket. “I have to go back for the rest, but I have ordered something which I think you will like.”

“It sounds exciting!” Larina replied.

“You will enjoy the
Zuppa di cozze
,”
Wynstan promised. “I will not be long.”

He walked away again back towards the restaurant.

Larina carried the basket into the cabin. She put it down on one of the bunks, saw there was a newspaper on top of it, and laid it on the table.

Then she lifted out the lobster and thought how prettily arranged it was on the dish. There were also two bottles of wine, fresh rolls and a small china pot containing butter!

As Larina looked at the lobster she realised that she was in fact not hungry.

She had felt ever since she had upset Wynstan that there was a constriction in her throat, and something suspiciously like a stone heavy in her breast.

Because she could not bear for the moment to think about herself or how foolish she had been, she opened the paper.

It was an American paper, published in Rome, but printed in English.

ROOSEVELT BACK AS PRESIDENT

Larina read the headlines and wondered if Wynstan was interested in politics. He had never mentioned them, and yet, she thought, if there had been a General Election in England, people would have talked of little else.

She looked further down the page, then suddenly she gave a shrill cry like an animal that had been wounded.

It seemed to echo round the small cabin. Then with a violent gesture, she threw the paper onto the floor and climbing out of the boat onto the jetty, started to run frantically
—
wildly!

Wynstan had to wait longer than he had expected for the
Zuppa di cozze.

“It is coming.
Signor
—one little second!” the proprietor kept assuring him.

The oysters were opened and arranged neatly on a tray so that they were easy to carry.

Finally the
Zuppa di cozze
came from the kitchen and the proprietor told a waiter to carry it to the boat.

The two men set off down the jetty.

By now the sun was very low on the horizon and darkness was encroaching across the sky carrying with it the first faint twinkling stars.

Wynstan glanced up and remembered that the moon
would be full tonight, so there would be no difficulty in finding his way back to Sorrento.

There he would talk to Larina and there would be no more secrets between them. He would no longer be apprehensive about what she had to tell him.

He knew he had hurt her, he knew he had brought her back, from an ecstasy that had seemed to them both divine, to the mundane and the common-place.

Yet he had not been able to prevent his feelings about something which concerned Elvin.

He had to know! He had to hear what it was that had worried and perturbed her ever since he had known her and which had made her send that frantic telegram across the Atlantic.

He and the waiter reached the boat.

There was no sign of Larina and Wynstan thought she was perhaps lying down on one of the bunks inside.

He put the tray with the oysters on the flat roof of the cabin and took the soup from the waiter, tipping him as he did so.

“
Grazie, Signor
,”
the waiter said and hurried back towards the restaurant.

“Here I am, Larina?” Wynstan called out, “with our culinary feast!”

He bent his head and entered the cabin as he spoke to set the deep dish containing the soup down on the table.

To his surprise Larina was not there!

‘She must have gone for a walk,’ he thought.

He collected the tray from the roof of the cabin and put that too on the table. Then he went outside again.

There was no sign of her on the jetty and it surprised him that she could have walked towards the harbour without his seeing her.

He swung himself out of the boat and started to walk slowly back the way he had come from the restaurant.

‘Where can she be?’ he wondered.

There were no shops by the water’s edge to interest a woman and now the sun had almost vanished and the dusk was purple in the shadows.

Wynstan reached the Quay and looked around him.
The restaurants and the cafes were already bright with light, but there were not many people about and the small boys had gone home for their supper.

A few fishermen were getting their boats ready for the morning, but otherwise it was very quiet. He thought perhaps he had made a mistake: Larina must in fact have been at the end of the jetty and he had not seen her.

He walked back to the boat.

Everything was as he had left it and there was no sign of her.

He wondered where on earth she could have gone to. In spite of what she had said to him yesterday she had never seemed to be unpredictable, but always easy and pliable, and in that aspect different from any other woman he had ever known.

He decided she would not be long and he might as well open the wine.

He found a corkscrew, drew the cork from one of the bottles and sampled it. It was good, although it did not compare with the wine they drank at the Villa, most of which had been put down in his grandfather’s time and was exceptional.

He came out of the cabin and stood in the front of the boat. It was not easy to see far in the gathering dusk, but there was still no sign of Larina.

Her dress was white and he knew he would have seen it long before he would notice any other colour.

Puzzled he went back to the cabin again.

It was then his eye alighted on the newspaper lying on the floor.

The way it was unfolded and thrown down told him that Larina must have read it.
\

He picked it up and saw the headline.

ROOSEVELT BACK AS PRESIDENT

She could hardly be upset about that, he thought, unless there was something in the report.

He read it hastily.

It told him that Harvey had won a number of votes though not enough. There was nothing that could have disturbed Larina or lead her to associate the election in any way with him.

Then his eye caught a paragraph low down on the page headed—London.

He read it automatically hardly realising he was doing so.

MAD DOCTOR IMPERSONATES ROYAL CONSULTANT.

ANXIETY FOR THOSE GIVEN FALSE SENTENCES OF DEATH.

George Robson, a Doctor, who last year was struck off the Medical Register for unprofessional conduct, was arrested in London today and charged with impersonating Sir John Coleridge, Consultant to the Royal family.

Sir John, who was on holiday abroad, left his house in Wimpole Street in charge of a caretaker. George Robson, who had a particular grudge against Sir John because he was on the Board of the B.M.A. who had condemned him in 1899, gained access to No. 55 Wimpole Street. He imprisoned the caretaker in a downstairs room where he subsequently strangled him, and dressed in borrowed clothes, proceeded to interview any patients who called to see Sir John or who endeavoured to make appointments.

Robson was clever enough to see only patients who had not previously been examined and would therefore not recognise Sir John. The masquerade was only discovered when Sir John returned from his holiday four days earlier than he had intended.

George Robson had in fact left 55 Wimpole Street the previous day. Sir John was confronted with an angry patient who had obtained a second opinion on his condition. It was then discovered that every patient who had been seen by George Robson in the last month had been given exactly twenty-one days to live.

He told them they had a strange and unusual condition of the heart, that he was an authority on
the disease and there was no hope of their survival.

Sir John is trying to contact all the patients who might have been interviewed by George Robson, but as there is no record of how many people Robson saw, it will of course take some time.

Wynstan read the report at first quickly and then slowly for the second time. He realised that here must be the explanation of everything which had puzzled him, everything which Larina had kept secret.

Now he knew he must find her quickly.

He jumped out of the boat and ran down to the jetty.

It was obvious when he reached the Quay that she would turn right because there were fewer houses that way and almost immediately there was a road rising up the hill.

He walked up it, but when it turned at a right angle it seemed to him that she would not have carried on to where there were other houses and shops, but would have taken to the mountainside.

There was a path, narrow and twisting but he knew he had to trust his instinct, and he was almost sure this was the way she would have gone.

He set off looking around him and feeling thankful, as the sun sank and the stars came out, that there was also moonlight.

It was not bright at first but it grew brighter. There was not a cloud in the sky and soon the island was bathed in a silver light, ethereal and compelling.

Soon Wynstan had climbed above the olive-trees and grotesque, twisting rocks rose abruptly in front of him.

He still climbed, looking everywhere for something white, something he knew would show even against the rocks and stones which gave back a dull reflection of the moonlight.

It must have been two hours later that he saw Larina, below him instead of above, a patch of brilliant white against the lesser white of the stone on which she sat.

He started to make his way down to her and realised she was crouched on the ground, her head bent, her face hidden in her hands.

Now there was no urgency, no hurry and he came towards her slowly and quietly so as not to frighten her.

He stood for a moment looking down at her, her attitude one of poignant despair. Then he knelt beside her and put his arms around her.

He felt her quiver convulsively.

“It is all right, my darling!” he said. “I understand.”

For a moment he thought she would resist him, then she hid her head against his shoulder.

“It is all right! he said again. “There is nothing more of which you need be afraid. It is all over!”

He realised as he spoke that she was very cold with shock and also from the night air, which was chilly when one was not moving.

He pulled her to her feet and picked her up in his arms.

She made a little murmur as if of dissent, then she put one arm around his neck and hid her face again.

Afterwards Wynstan used to wonder how he had managed to carry Larina sure-footedly over the rough ground, down the steep paths—little more than sheep-tracks—that twisted and turned their way from the hill to the Quay.

But he had never slipped, and he seldom faltered.

Finally he reached the boat and carrying Larina aboard, he took her into the cabin and set her down on one of the bunks.

There was a cushion for her head but when he wanted her to lie against it she gave a little cry of dissent and her arm tightened around his neck.

“I want to give you something to drink, my sweet,” he said.

It was then she began to cry: hard, broken sobs which shook her whole body.

He held her very close, cradling her against him as if she were a child, and murmuring soft endearments as she wept.

“It is all right, my sweet, my darling, my precious little Aphrodite. You are not going to die! You are going to live! There is nothing to be unhappy about—nothing to worry you any more!”

Larina’s sobs began to abate and finally Wynstan took out
his handkerchief to wipe her closed eyes and the tears which had run down her cheeks.

“Why did you not tell me?” he asked at length when she had taken a few sips from the glass of wine he held to her lips.

“E
...
Elvin had said ... he would come to me if I ever
...
needed him and if I was dying,” Larina answered. “I could not
...
bear to tell
...
anyone else.”

“I understand that,” Wynstan said, “’but Elvin, my precious, is dead!”

“De
...
ad?”

She was very still.

“I was with him when he died,” Wynstan went on, “and he said something which now I understand.”

He knew she was listening and he continued speaking very quietly:

“Elvin said: ‘It is wonderful to be free! Tell
...
’ I am sure now he was about to say your name; but if he did, I could not hear it.”

Larina drew a deep breath.

“What
...
day did he
...
die?”

“It was on the 23rd of March.”

“He said he would
...
call me when he was
...
dying.”

“Perhaps he was about to do so,” Wynstan answered soothingly.

Larina gave a little cry.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The 23rd!” she exclaimed. “I knew ... I did know!
...
He came to me as he
...
said he would!”

“How?” Wynstan asked.

“What time
...
did he
...
die?”

“About ten o’clock in the morning.”

“Is there not
...
five hours difference between New York time and London?”

“Yes, there is.”

“Then
...
that was the afternoon! I went to Hyde Park and sat near the Serpentine. Because I was so
...
lonely I called
...
Elvin and he came to me ... in his own way ... he came to me.”

There was an elation in Larina’s voice that was very moving, and as she looked up at Wynstan he saw tears in her eyes—but they were now tears of joy.

“He kept his
...
promise! Only I did not
...
realise that it was he bringing me
...
life and
...
light.”

“That is what he found himself,” Wynstan said in his deep voice.

“I understand now,” Larina said, “and I think ... he must have
...
sent you to me.”

“I am sure he did. But why did you run away?”

She hid her face against him and whispered:

“I am ... so ashamed ... of what I
...
suggested.” Wynstan’s arms tightened as she went on:

“I am not
...
really sure
...
about what men and women ... do when they
...
make love
...
but it must be
...
wonderful
...
because the gods used to
...
assume human guise
...
”

Her voice died away.

“It is wonderful, my darling, when two people love each other,” Wynstan said.

“I thought ... I would
...
die
...
while you were
...
loving me.”

“I will make love to you, my precious little Aphrodite, but you will not die.”

It was like a pattern unfolding before his eyes, he thought. But Larina must never know what Harvey had suspected or what he himself had begun to believe on the journey from New York.

Harvey would never understand what had really happened nor would Gary. But perhaps one day he would be able to tell his mother.

In the meantime he had found Larina and she had found him which was all that mattered. They were together, just as Elvin would have wanted them to be.

His lips were on Larina’s forehead as he said:

“Suddenly everything seems very simple, my precious. All the difficulties, all the complications and the secrets have gone!”

“It is like coming out into the light,” Larina answered. “I have been afraid ... so desperately afraid
of ...
death and of dying
...
alone.”

She gave a deep sigh.

“I shall never be afraid again
...
not even when I really come to
...
die. Elvin has taught me that.”

She paused to add shyly:

“And so have
...
you!”

“There is so much for us both to do together before we die,” Wynstan said. “You said yesterday that I had work to do in the future which would be of benefit to other people. I think I have found something which will certainly interest me, and I hope, you too.”

“What is it?” Larina asked.

“When I was in India, the Viceroy, Lord Curzon, asked me to help him in finding and restoring the magnificent Temples and monuments in India which are being destroyed through neglect. They are a heritage to the world, and if someone does not take the trouble to save them and spend money on them, then they will be lost to posterity.”

He kissed Larina’s forehead again before he said:

“I think that, darling, is something we can both do together, and what is more we will both find it enthralling.”

“Do you
...
really
...
want me?” Larina asked in a low voice.

“I want you more than I can possibly explain in words,” he answered. “I want you not only because you are so beautiful, but because for me it is also an aching, spiritual need to have you with me for the rest of our lives.”

“That is what I want
...
too,” Larina murmured.

“We will be married immediately,” Wynstan said. “And we will go for our honeymoon to Greece!”

She gave a little cry of sheer delight and he added: “Would that make you happy?”

“I can imagine
...
nothing more thrilling,” Larina answered, “than to see Greece and to be with
...
Apollo!”