arrangement of apricot and coral bougainvillea with frangipani flowers which had creamy petals edged with red.
She could not help being warmed by his attention to the details of her comfort, particularly when there had been other things on his mind.
She gave John a glass of milk and, seeing that the wine had already had its cork drawn and lightly replaced, succumbed to an impulse to try it, although wine at this hour of the day was far from being her usual style.
Presently she suggested a walk along the beach. Both wearing white shorts and tee-shirts, with plenty of sun cream on their exposed parts, they set out to explore the full length of the beach to the point where it came to an end in the shadow of the wooded headland behind which the sun would eventually sink out of sight.
They paddled most of the way. In places the sand was loose and coarse and clung to their feet in large flakes. Mostly it was fine and firm, a pleasant surface for walking or jogging.
As the working day came to an end, the holidaymakers were joined by islanders arriving in cars and on motorbikes for an evening dip.
Their very dark skins made an effective contrast with the turquoise sea. Although the island had been governed by Britain, and was now an independent State in association with Britain, Christie found that when the Antiguans were chatting and laughing among themselves she could understand only odd words of their conversation.
It was early evening by local time, but hours past the bedtime to which John's body was accustomed, when they went to the restaurant for a light supper of fried snapper and salad.
It was dark when they returned to the cottage by way of the lanternlit paths. The child was asleep within seconds of being tucked into bed, and Christie herself felt drowsy as she returned to the sitting-room to have another glass of wine and to look through a folder of useful information provided by the management.
She had been studying a map of the island, and must have dozed off, when the telephone startled her into wakefulness. It had rung several times before she could pull herself together and recall where she was, and where it was.
'Hello?' she said, somewhat muzzily.
'If you sleep now, you'll find yourself wide awake at three in the morning.'
. The speaker had no need to announce himself for her to distinguish his deep, lazy-sounding voice from the slightly Americanised briskness of the Manager's delivery.
'Ash . . . where are you?' she asked, still confused. He sounded as if he might be calling from the main block.
'Still in Montserrat. I'm sorry I wasn't at the airport to meet you. How was your flight?'
'Fine, thank you, and your friend Miss Long was there to take us under her wing.'
'It's Mrs Long, actually, although the marriage has broken up now.'
'Oh, I see. She introduced herself as Bettina Long, and I didn't notice what rings, if any, she was wearing. There was so much else to take in. This is a lovely place, Ash . . . Turtle Creek, I mean. Thank you for the special flowers and the wine. It was probably the wine which sent me to sleep just now. Oh, goodness'—after a glance at her watch—'It wasn't "just now". It was over two hours ago!'
'I'm sorry I woke you, but I couldn't get to the phone before, and I wanted to be sure you'd arrived safely.'
'It's a good thing you did wake me,' she said, 'otherwise I might have spent all night in this chair and woken up cramped.'
'Oh, you're not in bed yet?'
'Not yet.'
'I hope you've acquired some cooler night things than the ones you were wearing when I stayed with you in London. This is no climate for thick pyjamas.'
Christie remembered the morning he had lingered in her bedroom, somehow contriving to make her as uneasy as a middle-aged spinster in Victorian times.
'Naturally I haven't brought them,' she said stiffly.
'What have you brought instead?'
She suspected him of teasing her. 'A cotton nightie made for me by Margaret Kelly. Isn't it rather expensive,
She could not help being warmed by his attention to the details of her comfort, particularly when there had been other things on his mind.
She gave John a glass of milk and, seeing that the wine had already had its cork drawn and lightly replaced, succumbed to an impulse to try it, although wine at this hour of the day was far from being her usual style.
Presently she suggested a walk along the beach. Both wearing white shorts and tee-shirts, with plenty of sun cream on their exposed parts, they set out to explore the full length of the beach to the point where it came to an end in the shadow of the wooded headland behind which the sun would eventually sink out of sight.
They paddled most of the way. In places the sand was loose and coarse and clung to their feet in large flakes. Mostly it was fine and firm, a pleasant surface for walking or jogging.
As the working day came to an end, the holidaymakers were joined by islanders arriving in cars and on motorbikes for an evening dip.
Their very dark skins made an effective contrast with the turquoise sea. Although the island had been governed by Britain, and was now an independent State in association with Britain, Christie found that when the Antiguans were chatting and laughing among themselves she could understand only odd words of their conversation.
It was early evening by local time, but hours past the bedtime to which John's body was accustomed, when they went to the restaurant for a light supper of fried snapper and salad.
It was dark when they returned to the cottage by way of the lanternlit paths. The child was asleep within seconds of being tucked into bed, and Christie herself felt drowsy as she returned to the sitting-room to have another glass of wine and to look through a folder of useful information provided by the management.
She had been studying a map of the island, and must have dozed off, when the telephone startled her into wakefulness. It had rung several times before she could pull herself together and recall where she was, and where it was.
'Hello?' she said, somewhat muzzily.
'If you sleep now, you'll find yourself wide awake at three in the morning.'
. The speaker had no need to announce himself for her to distinguish his deep, lazy-sounding voice from the slightly Americanised briskness of the Manager's delivery.
'Ash . . . where are you?' she asked, still confused. He sounded as if he might be calling from the main block.
'Still in Montserrat. I'm sorry I wasn't at the airport to meet you. How was your flight?'
'Fine, thank you, and your friend Miss Long was there to take us under her wing.'
'It's Mrs Long, actually, although the marriage has broken up now.'
'Oh, I see. She introduced herself as Bettina Long, and I didn't notice what rings, if any, she was wearing. There was so much else to take in. This is a lovely place, Ash . . . Turtle Creek, I mean. Thank you for the special flowers and the wine. It was probably the wine which sent me to sleep just now. Oh, goodness'—after a glance at her watch—'It wasn't "just now". It was over two hours ago!'
'I'm sorry I woke you, but I couldn't get to the phone before, and I wanted to be sure you'd arrived safely.'
'It's a good thing you did wake me,' she said, 'otherwise I might have spent all night in this chair and woken up cramped.'
'Oh, you're not in bed yet?'
'Not yet.'
'I hope you've acquired some cooler night things than the ones you were wearing when I stayed with you in London. This is no climate for thick pyjamas.'
Christie remembered the morning he had lingered in her bedroom, somehow contriving to make her as uneasy as a middle-aged spinster in Victorian times.
'Naturally I haven't brought them,' she said stiffly.
'What have you brought instead?'
She suspected him of teasing her. 'A cotton nightie made for me by Margaret Kelly. Isn't it rather expensive,
Similar Books
