When Summer Fades (16 page)

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Carlos replied, stroking his fingers though windswept tresses, ‘From where I’m sitting, it’s all the colours of these magnificent cliffs that surround us. You surely wouldn’t say they are boring?’

‘No,’ Sophie said, her gaze taking in the larger-than-life palette with its myriad sandstone colours, ranging from palest gold to intense copper, bronze and deepest sienna.

‘Then, of course there are your eyes,’ Carlos continued, kissing her eyelids shut. ‘When you’re happy they sparkle with the same golden glints and intensity of colour.’

Opening her eyes again, she snuggled against him. ‘Tell me, am I happy now?’

Gently cupping her chin in his hands, Carlos bent to examine golden-flecked, hazel eyes, shining with love for him. ‘I’d like to think you are.’

‘Oh! I am,’ she whispered, her voice choked with emotion as his lips met hers.

Watching Carlos remove his polo shirt and unfasten the waistband of his shorts, Sophie gasped, wide eyed. ‘You’re not going for a swim! We haven’t brought any towels or swimming—’

‘No. But we do have the travel rug … and I intend to make love to you, right here on the beach.’

‘We can’t. Not here – can we? Someone might see.’

‘Sophie, since when have goats had wings?’

When Carlos slowly and deliberately slipped her T-shirt over her head, and unbuttoned her shorts, Sophie felt as if she was indeed flying. Soaring like the birds above, when his fingers deftly removed her bra and panties, she soon found herself lying against him, naked.

‘Your shoulders?’ he questioned, as caring, loving hands lowered her gently onto the sand before he moulded his body tenderly and effortlessly into hers.

‘Hmm. I
suppose
that wasn’t so bad for an old man,’ Sophie teased, when later they shook sand from their clothes, folded up the travel rug and prepared to leave.

Brushing stray grains of sand from her cheek with his thumb, Carlos drew her close, deeply reflective and careful to avoid any mention of Rosa. ‘You know, that first morning when I spoke to you on the phone, I was convinced you were only a child.’

‘And I was so confused because you asked to speak to my parents.’

Carlos bent and kissed the top of her head. ‘Now I know what you look like first thing in the morning,
and
that you are most definitely not a child. You are a very beautiful woman Sophie and I love you dearly. I only hope I can persuade you to stay.’

‘Stay? Whatever do you mean?’

‘Stay here in Portugal, of course. You surely won’t return to England?’

Completely taken aback, Sophie’s mind was in turmoil. Everything had happened so quickly. Stay here in Portugal? What a wonderful prospect, but how could she when there was her job and Monty and Edna – not to mention Callie – to think of.

‘Of course I understand you’ll want to go back and settle things with your job and family,’ said Carlos, breaking into her maelstrom of thoughts. ‘But you mean so much to me, Sophie. I can’t possibly let you disappear from my life now. ’

Turning to look at him, Sophie whispered. ‘What about settling things with
your
family? Surely you must consider— ’

‘I have considered my family and the business for far too long,’ he replied, though tight lips. ‘At thirty-five I have the right to decide exactly what I want to do with my life. And that includes making you my wife.’

‘Your wife?’

‘Unless, of course, you don’t want me,’ he questioned softly, his gaze drifting down to the indentation of their bodies in the sand.

‘Don’t want you, Carlos? How can you even think such a thing? Of course I want you! It’s simply that I never, ever dreamt something as wonderful as this could happen.’

Chapter 11

Returning to Alvor, Sophie studied Carlos’s expressionless face.

‘Please believe me,’ she said, breaking the silence. ‘It’s what I want too. Since my parents’ accident I’ve hardly dared think about tomorrow, let alone consider the longer-term future.’

‘I understand,’ he said, taking one hand from the steering wheel, his face softening. ‘Will you now consider a future with me?’

With his fingers lovingly entwined in her own, Sophie gave them a reassuring squeeze, ‘Of course. Shall we discuss it over lunch?’

‘Lunch?’

‘I thought we were going to Francisco’s?’

‘We were. That was before we … Sophie, have you any idea of the time?’

Shaking her head, she peered at the clock on the walnut dashboard. Could it really be so late in the afternoon? ‘
Salade
Nicoise
?
’
she suggested.

‘Salade Nicoise – although not Portuguese – would be perfect.’

*

With the remnants of their meal cleared away, Carlos poured Sophie another glass of wine and fetched a notepad from his briefcase.

‘If you’ve work to do, would you prefer to be left in peace?’

‘Definitely not! Besides it’s not work. I need you to help me plan our future.’

Our
future
! Sophie clung to the two words that sounded like music to her ears. Was it possible? Did they have a future together? Carlos certainly seemed to think so. But a future spent as his wife was beyond her wildest dreams. For that reason, she insisted they must deal with the matter of Rosa and his family first.

‘Rosa won’t be a problem,’ Carlos said.

‘But she adores you.’

‘Only because I've always let her have her own way. Now she’s back home, mixing with people her own age, she’ll soon realise the fifteen year age gap is too great.’

Leaning forward to write on his pad, a lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. Sophie reached out to brush it from his face. ‘OK. So … supposing Rosa isn’t a problem, what will you do about your grandmother? It’s her birthday next week. You can’t possibly upset the celebrations.’

Carlos chewed thoughtfully on his pen. ‘You’re right. That would be far too insensitive of me. If I did,’ he grinned, ‘Augustina might even put a curse on me. I think it’s best Rosa and I keep up the pretence of an engagement – at least until I’ve had a chance to explain how things stand. It’s also not a good idea to arouse suspicion or risk any unpleasantness at Maria-Clara’s birthday party. How does that sound?’

‘Fine. As long as you think it will work.’

‘Trust me,’ Carlos declared, ‘It won’t take Rosa long to realise she’s far better suited to someone nearer her own age. We can approach the family later. Grandmother wasn’t
planning
– for want of a better word – on Rosa and I getting married for at least another year, during which time you can sort things out in England and everything here will be simply perfect.’

‘I’ve a horrid feeling it won’t,’ Sophie whispered to herself when Carlos left the room.

Contemplating their last night together at Casa Maria-Clara, Sophie turned back the freshly laundered linen on her bed. ‘Augustina has trained Filomena well,’ she said, trying not to think of tomorrow when Carlos would be returning to Lisbon.

Sensing her sadness, Carlos held her close, kissing away a solitary tear. ‘It will be all right, you’ll see. I’ll ring my brother, say I’ve got a business appointment, and ask him if he wouldn’t mind taking Rosa out at the weekend. That will leave me free to see you.’

‘Won’t that seem odd? I thought you said Rosa and Cristovao loathed each other.’

‘They do, but as a couple of Rosa’s girl friends went out with some of Cristovao’s friends from university, I believe they occasionally congregate in the same clubs and bars. There’s always a party somewhere.’

‘Do you really think it will work?’

‘It’s certainly worth a try, if it means we can be together. We only have to keep up the pretence until Grandmother’s party,’ Carlos reassured, sitting on the bed. ‘And in a matter of weeks, I’m sure I can even manage a trip to England.’

‘A trip to England? You never said!’

‘That’s because I’ve only just thought of it. Now go and have your bath. Believe it or not, I would like to visit Francisco’s tomorrow. I suggest we get there early. It’s very popular with both locals and tourists.’

‘What time does Francisco’s restaurant open?’ Sophie called from the bath, a few minutes later.

‘Midday.’

   ‘Then why are we going to bed at half past nine? Do we have to catch our own lunch?’

‘No, but I intend to catch you and have you all to myself for as long as I can,’ Carlos announced from the doorway, holding up a large white towel. ‘Will you come willingly into my net, or do I have to catch you first?’

‘Oh, I’ll come willingly,’ Sophie said, stepping from bath, her body shiny with tiny droplets of water, and her hair loosely knotted on the top of her head. ‘Hadn’t you better step a little closer? I might make the floor all wet.’

‘I doubt it,’ he replied, his voice low and husky, and in one swift movement completely enveloped her in the towel and carried her back to the bedroom.

Looking into Carlos’s eyes, now almost black in the darkened room, Sophie knew there’d be no need for words tonight. They’d said all they needed to say before, during and after supper. Tomorrow lunchtime he would take her to Francisco’s, and tomorrow night – despite Rosa’s impending return – she knew she would feel horribly alone.

*

Sitting at a table covered with a blue checked tablecloth, Sophie stared forlornly into her glass of wine. When Francisco appeared with a large oval platter of freshly grilled sardines, mixed salad and new potatoes, she looked up forcing a weak smile.

‘There you are,’ he said, white teeth flashing in a rugged face. ‘You see, they do not all come in cans.’

‘Or served on toast,’ Carlos teased.

‘Carlos! Contrary to what you might think, I have seen fresh sardines before.’ ‘I know,’ he interrupted, offering her some bread, ‘I only said that because I couldn’t bear seeing you look so sad.’

When she lifted her head to meet his gaze, Carlos covered her hand with his. ‘Do you realize you’ve hardly looked at me for the past ten minutes.’

‘I know,’ she gulped, fighting back tears. ‘I’m frightened if I look at you I’ll cry. I keep thinking of you going back to Lisbon.’

‘Then come with me,’ he pleaded, ‘we can surely think of some reason for you to be there.’

Sophie shook her head and blew her nose. ‘No. We must keep to our original plan. As you said, it is only for another couple of weeks. And if you
can
come to England…’

Carlos nodded. ‘I certainly intend to. Don’t forget we shall also see each other this weekend, not to mention the last week of your holiday. Perhaps you can come to Lisbon then? It shouldn’t be too difficult to arrange.’

Marginally comforted, Sophie picked up her knife and fork.

‘That’s a relief,’ Carlos said with a smile. ‘For one moment I thought those sardines were going to drown in your tears.’

Paying the bill and saying goodbye to Francisco, Carlos looked at his watch and nodded approvingly. There was still time to go to Portimão for Sophie’s souvenirs.

Her shopping completed, Carlos took Sophie’s arm, ‘Let’s take the coastal road and have a last walk along the beach. Perhaps we can say our goodbyes there? Just in case Rosa comes back early, although as you know, her timekeeping is usually appalling.’

To Sophie’s surprise, instead of returning to Alvor, Carlos drove towards a small development of recently constructed properties.

‘Are you looking for somewhere else to live?’ she puzzled.

‘Not for the moment. When Francisco told me about these villas, I immediately thought of your aunt and uncle. Perhaps you could persuade them to come and live here?’

Leaving the car, Sophie studied the artist’s impression on the hoarding. ‘They certainly look ideal, but don’t forget there’s Uncle Monty’s health to consider.’

‘Francisco tells me they’re also planning to build a hospital.’

‘Hmm. It would appear Francisco told you a great deal.’

‘He did. He also said he admired my taste. He thinks you’re very beautiful, and that with your colouring you’d make a perfect sand goddess.’

Sophie blushed. ‘How very poetic. Didn’t he think it strange seeing us together? He must know about Rosa.’

‘Oh, he does. Francisco and I go back a long way. He’s always considered this engagement business with Rosa and myself a huge joke.’

‘And does he also know who’s going to live there?’ Sophie pointed at a half- finished villa on a nearby cliff top.

‘Why? Do you like it?’

‘It’s simply magnificent! All those amazing arches and turrets, that villa has to have been inspired by the Moors.’ Sophie began to laugh.

‘What’s so amusing?’

‘Whoever designed that has never been to Victoria Villas!’

Unable to share the joke, Carlos was suddenly reminded of Sophie returning to the dreary block of flats in Beckford. Without warning, he grabbed her by the arm and hurried her along the unmade path to the jutting sandstone cliffs. ‘Francisco is right,’ he said. ‘You are a sand goddess. Come. Sit on this rock. It will be the perfect setting.’

‘Perfect setting for what?’

‘A photograph. I must have a photo of you, Sophie. Don’t move, I’ll fetch my camera.’

In the few moments that he was gone, Sophie drank in the beauty of the setting sun glistening on azure blue water and the seemingly endless, deserted beach. She could quite easily see why her aunt and uncle would want to live here.

‘Time to go?’ she questioned, moments later, watching him slip his camera in his pocket.

‘Afraid so. We can only hope Rosa will be late … very late.

*

Before the C70 even purred to a halt, Carlos’s face turned ashen. Sensing that something was wrong, Sophie felt sick to the pit of her stomach, Rosa was already there!

At the approach of the car Rosa waved excitedly, plucked at a spray of bougainvillaea blossom, and ran down the path towards them.

‘Sophie! Carlos! There you are! I was just asking Bernado—’

‘Carlos kindly offered to take me shopping … to buy something for Callie,’ Sophie explained hurriedly, trying desperately not to look at him.

‘Ah! Yes. Callie. She is a very good friend to you, like you are to me.’ Kissing Sophie warmly before turning her attention to Carlos, Rosa flung her arms about his neck. ‘And how is my
gorgeous
fiancé?’

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Carlos said through tight lips, disentangling himself from Rosa’s clutches.

‘And are you still cross with me for leaving Sophie alone?’

Carlos shook his head. ‘Thanks to Augustina, Sophie’s sunburn is almost healed.’

Briefly leaving Carlos’s side, Rosa turned to look at Sophie’s shoulders. ‘So it is. I do believe she’s even beginning to go brown.’

Linking her arm in Carlos’s, Rosa nuzzled against him and followed Sophie towards the beach house. ‘Yes, she’s definitely going brown, or should I say golden?’

Suppressing a groan, Carlos thought of the pale-golden body he’d held lovingly in his arms. Now that Rosa was here, it was useless to even think of being alone with Sophie for more than just a few snatched moments.

In the guest annexe, alone with her thoughts, Sophie desperately held back fresh tears. Her mind was in turmoil, why had Rosa been early for once, and why had she practically flung herself into Carlos’s arms as if they’d been parted for months!
Isn’t
it
obvious
? She told herself.
Just
like
you
,
Rosa
can’t
bear
to
be
parted
from
him
!
And
what
makes
it
even
worse
is
the
fact
you
can
even
hear
her
laughing
and
joking
with
him
beyond
the
connecting
door
!

What was it Carlos had said? Everything will be simply perfect? And even earlier still – last September, when Rosa had hastily scribbled down the family tree and concluded with the words: ‘
You
see
it
is
seemple
.’ Sophie gave a brittle smile. ‘No, it isn’t,’ she sighed wretchedly, slumping on the bed in despair. ‘You’ve both got it wrong. It isn’t simple at all!’

Hearing a knock on her bedroom door, Sophie looked up in anticipation. To no avail, however. It was Rosa who stood there, not Carlos.