The Mermaid Garden (36 page)

the beach and listened. Rafa looked at her solemnly. “It must be stuck

on the rocks.” They both scanned the cliffs, but saw nothing.

“How can we reach it?”

“I’m going to swim round.”

“Isn’t it dangerous?”

“I hope not. But there’s a dog in trouble, and I’m a sucker for an ani-

mal in pain.” He quickly stripped down to his underpants.

“Then I’m coming with you.” She, too, started to undress.

“You’re very brave, Clementine.”

“Reckless, you mean.” But the way he looked at her gave her courage.

They waded out to sea. The water was cold, but after a while their

bodies grew accustomed to it. They swam together, but neither said a

word, they were too busy listening to the barking and trying to ascer-

tain the dog’s whereabouts. Clementine would never have dared swim

out so far on her own. The waves crashed against the rocks, and the

beach seemed way behind them.

“Look, there’s a cave!” Rafa shouted. “I think it’s coming from in

there.” They swam round to the cove where the water was calmer, and

hurried up the little beach. The tide was coming in fast, it wouldn’t be long before the cave was full of water. The dog sensed their arrival and began to whine.

“It’s okay, boy. You’re going to be all right.” Rafa crouched down and

stroked him. The dog wagged its little tail excitedly.

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“Look, it’s been tied to a rock.” Sure enough, the animal had been

deliberately sentenced to death in that cave. “I can’t bear it!”

“Can you untie it?”

“Yes.” She set about undoing the knot, aghast that anyone could be

so cruel. Once it was untied she joined Rafa on the sand to stroke it.

“What sort of dog is it?”

“Mongrel. Which is why its owner probably didn’t want it anymore.”

He began to talk to the animal in Spanish.

“How are we going to get it to the beach?”

He glanced at the mouth of the cave. “We’d better get going. It’ll be

dark soon, and the tide is coming in. We don’t want to be stuck here for the night.”

“I don’t think we’d survive the night. This cave is probably underwa-

ter at high tide.”

“Okay, boy, you’re going to have to come with us.”

At first it looked as if it would be impossible to move him. The dog

was so upset and frightened that his trembling legs wouldn’t budge. If

they hadn’t had to get across the sea, Rafa could have carried him, but they had no choice; if the dog was to be saved, he had to swim.

Rafa took his face in his hands and looked him in the eye. Then

he spoke calmly but with authority, as if he were speaking to a child.

“You’re going to come with us, little friend. We’re going to look after you and take you to safety, but you have to trust us.”

He stroked his ears and muzzle, and after a while, as the sea crept

into the cave, the dog calmed down. He followed them out and into the

water. All the time Rafa spoke to him, encouraging him, coaxing him,

praising him. Clementine swam the other side of the dog so that he felt protected on both sides. Slowly, they made their way round the corner.

The wind had picked up, and the sea was choppier now. It required

more effort to swim, but Clementine gritted her teeth and kept her eye

on the beach. The little dog swam with all his might, his nose in the air, nostrils dilating, eyes wide with anxiety. But on he swam, his courage

greater than his fear.

At last they reached the beach. The dog trotted onto the sand and

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if his bottom would come off. Clementine and Rafa staggered out of

the waves and collapsed onto their knees to pat him.

“Clever dog!” they exclaimed breathlessly, and the dog seemed to

understand, licking their faces with happiness.

“We’ve got to get him home. He’ll be cold and dehydrated. God

knows how long he’s been tied up in that cave.”

“We’ve got water in our picnic bag,” Clementine suggested.

“Good. Come on, boy, let’s get you home.”

The dog drank from the bottle and ate the remains of the sand-

wiches. He was indeed hungry and thirsty.

“You know, Marina hates dogs,” said Clementine.

“How can a person hate dogs?”

“I don’t know. She just does.”

“We’ll worry about that later. Let’s get him dry first and then we’ll

talk to her. You can’t have him at work, so she’ll have to tolerate him being at the hotel.”

“She’ll make you take him to a dog home.”

“This dog is staying with me. It’s Fate, don’t you see? We were meant

to find him.” He grinned at her playfully. “It’s my choice to keep him.”

She smiled back, relishing having something that they alone shared.

“Then it’s mine, too.”

They dressed over their wet bodies and shivered all the way up to

the car. Rafa offered to carry Clementine, but she declined, explaining that the dog needed their attention. Coming down the hill with her on

his back was one thing, but going up was an entirely different matter,

and she didn’t care how many thorns ripped her skin as long as she was

spared the humiliation of having to be put down halfway because she

was too heavy.

They put the animal on the backseat, where he lay like a sodden mop.

After a while, the rumble of the engine lulled him to sleep.

In spite of the heating in the car, Clementine and Rafa were both

still shivering when they reached the Polzanze. They were cold right

through to their bones.

“Let me deal with Marina,” Rafa suggested as the car pulled up in

front of the house.

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“I’m not going to argue with that,” Clementine said, biting her lip

nervously. “I hope we can keep him.”

“We’re going to keep him, don’t worry.”

“I’ll go and get some old towels and a blanket.”

“Do you have anything to change into?”

“I’ll borrow Dad’s dressing gown.” Tom strode out of the hotel. He

stared at them in surprise as they climbed out of the car. “Tom, will you stay with the dog while I go and get some blankets?” Clementine asked.

“Dog?”

“Yes. We found a dog tied up in a cave. He was going to drown. We

had to swim out to rescue him. Now he’s asleep on the backseat, poor

thing.”

Tom shook his head. “Uh-oh, you know what the boss thinks about

dogs.”

“This is different. He’s frightened and has no one to look after him.”

“Where is Marina?” Rafa asked.

“In the conservatory with the brigadier and your ladies.”

“Right, I’m going to put on some dry clothes, then I’m going to

see her.”

“Good luck,” said Clementine.

“You need more than luck,” Tom added.

Clementine emerged a little later, swamped in Grey’s dressing gown

and slippers, armed with an old towel and blankets. Rafa, in fresh jeans and sweater, was coming out of the hotel with Marina. It was clear

from the look on her face that he hadn’t told her. Clementine glanced

into the back of the car. The dog was still asleep. He looked very sweet, his brown hair curled by seawater, his little body rising and falling as he breathed. How could anyone reject such a helpless creature?

“So, what’s the surprise?” said Marina, approaching the car. Tom

looked terrified and backed away quietly, but near enough to watch.

“We have rescued a dog,” said Rafa carelessly. “He was tied up in

a cave and left to drown. Clementine and I had to swim out to res-

cue him.”

Marina’s jaw dropped in horror. “A dog?”

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“Yes, isn’t he adorable? He’s asleep now. He was so frightened.” Rafa

was clearly trying to appeal to her compassionate nature.

She peered in, ringing her hands anxiously. “You know I can’t have

dogs in the hotel,” she said, but Rafa sensed the weakness in her voice and pushed on.

“But he was going to die. We have a responsibility to look after him.

He’s very young, not much more than a puppy. We cannot give him

away.”

Marina stared at him. The fear in her eyes took them all aback. Quite

unexpectedly, Clementine felt a sharp ache in her chest, and her heart

flooded with pity. Marina looked so small, as if a gust of wind would

blow her over.

“It’s okay, Marina, I’ll have him,” she volunteered. “Mr. Atwood will

just have to put up with him in the office. He can sleep under my desk.”

“No, you can’t have him at work,” said Rafa.

“I can ask my mother,” Tom suggested. “She’s got a cat, but you never

know, they might get on.”

Marina seemed to be struggling with her conscience. “I can’t give

him away,” she muttered. “I can’t. We have to take care of him.”

“I can look after him up in my room,” Rafa said gently. “You’ve given

me an enormous suite, Marina; there’s room enough for both of us.”

She looked into the car and gazed on the sleeping mongrel. Then her

eyes filled with tears. No one knew what to say. They had not expected

her to react in this way.

“I’m sorry, Marina. I didn’t realize you were frightened of dogs.”

“I’m not frightened of them,” she replied, straightening up and com-

posing herself. “He’s very dear. What are you going to call him?”

“We hadn’t thought,” Rafa replied, looking to Clementine for help.

“Biscuit,” she replied, grinning at her stepmother.

Marina gave a small smile and wiped her cheek. “Biscuit.” She

laughed. “That’s a good name.”

“I thought you’d like it.”

“Sure,” Rafa agreed, oblivious of the joke that passed between

the two women. “I’ll carry him upstairs and put him to bed.”

Marina seized control. “Tom, go and tell the kitchen to prepare

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something for him to eat and take up a bowl of water. Clementine,

you go with Rafa and make up a little bed. I’m sure we have a basket

somewhere—I’ll go and have a look.” She marched off to the stable

block.

They watched her go. “What was that all about?” Rafa asked.

Clementine shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s a mystery. At least we

know now that she’s not afraid of dogs.”

“If she’s not afraid of them, what’s the problem?”

“Perhaps it’s the fur. She’s very proud of her house.”

“No, it’s more than that. She nearly lost it.”

“She does that occasionally. Usually Harvey or Dad is near to put

her back together again.”

Rafa frowned. “Why?”

“You ask too many questions, Rafa.”

But he stood staring at the stable block long after Marina had disap-

peared inside.

Rafa carried Biscuit upstairs and put him onto the blankets

Clementine laid out for him on the spare bed. He was so sleepy he

could barely keep his eyes open. Tom appeared a little while later with a bowl of water and some leftover chicken, and Marina had found an

old wicker picnic basket as a temporary solution. Tomorrow they’d go

and buy supplies at the pet shop. It looked like Biscuit was here to stay.

Clementine ignored the three missed calls on her mobile from Joe

and agreed to stay for dinner while her clothes dried. They retreated to the stable block and sat around the kitchen table eating spaghetti with mussels, which Marina cooked better than any chef. Grey joined them,

interested to hear about the dog, but more concerned about his wife

and how she was reacting to her new guest. It astonished him that she

had allowed the animal onto the premises at all. Rafa longed to ask why she didn’t like dogs, but intuition told him that
that
particular avenue was dark and treacherous.

At eleven Rafa got up from the table. “I’d better go and check on

Biscuit, in case he wakes up and finds himself alone. He might be

frightened.”

“After his adventure, I imagine he’ll be nervous for quite a while yet,”

said Grey.

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“I should go, too,” said Clementine. “Dad, can you give me a lift?

I left my car in Dawcomb.”

“Of course,” said Grey, getting up.

Marina frowned. She sensed Clementine’s reluctance and wished

she had the courage to admit that she’d been wrong and come home.

“I’ll walk you out,” said Rafa, then he turned to Marina. “Thank you

for dinner. You cook spaghetti better than an Italian.”

Marina smiled. “Thank you. That’s quite a compliment, coming

from a half Italian.”

Rafa accompanied Clementine onto the gravel. “What a day,” he

said, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Why is it that whenever I’m with you, I end up taking off my clothes

and jumping into the sea?”

“If you can’t work that out, you’re not as clever as I thought you

were.”

She smiled. “Then you go to extraordinary lengths to get a girl to

undress.”

“Some girls require more guile.”

“Will you give Biscuit a kiss from me?”

“I’ll give him more than one. Come up and see him tomorrow. After

all, he belongs to both of us.”

“I will.”

“I’ll call you in the morning to tell you how he is.”