perhaps not,’ he agreed, grinning a little. ‘You’d have to bring a duenna with you, wouldn’t you? Then will you let me come and call upon you, wherever you’re staying?’
In the end they agreed to meet on the beach the following morning, and the meeting was repeated the following morning, and the morning after that. Lisa saw nothing wrong in just foregathering with a fellow-countryman on the beach, particularly as they were in full view of anyone who cared to study them, and although Gia was bashful at first, and declined to have very much to do with the Englishman, after the second morning she unbent, and by the fourth and fifth they were on excellent terms.
Lisa, who had been nervous of permitting Gia to enter the water while she was alone with her, had every confidence in entrusting her to the care of Peter, who seemed to take a liking to the small, plain Spanish child, with the enormous green eyes that made him think there was something elf-like about her. And after a few nervous essays on the edge of the water she gradually gained enough confidence to allow him to teach her a simple breast-stroke, which was followed by a sudden rush of enthusiasm to emulate everything he did.
But while permitting her to believe she was making enormous strides he was very careful of her, and it was sheer ill fortune that a threatening bilious attack brought about an onset of queasiness when she entered the water on the sixth morning after Peter Hamilton-Tracey had suddenly appeared on their limited horizon.
Only the night before Lisa had been thinking it strange that she had heard nothing from Madrid, and that after telephoning to make certain they were quite all right on the first night after their arrival Dr. Fernandez had suddenly seemed to assume that all must be well. He had written once, and sent Lisa a cheque for a generous month’s salary in advance, but that was all she had heard from him. And there had been no message for Gia in the letter.
But now, all at once, while Gia started to tread water wildly and rush back to the beach as if she was either in pain or sudden fright — and she was afflicted by both the physical and the mental disturbance — a car drew up on the coast road, and two people alighted and came across the sands to them.
Lisa took one look at the car and recognized it at once. She would know those long white lines anywhere. And the man in the light lounge suit, with a carelessly flowing tie and hair like
black silk in the sunshine — he was known to her even better than the car. And the woman who accompanied him could be none other than Dona Beatriz de Camponelli.
Dona Beatriz obviously didn’t believe in beach wear, or even informal holiday wear. Her silk suit was as impeccable as if she was going out to lunch at one of Madrid’s most exclusive clubs or restaurants, and the perilous high heels of her shoes were a menace to her ankles as she walked awkwardly across the yielding sand. The only concession to informality was the fact that she carried her large white cartwheel hat in her hand, so that her lovely red head was exposed to the caresses of the salt sea air and the sun.
Gia hurled herself into Lisa’s arms, burst into a flood of stormy weeping, and then when she caught sight of her
father absolutely rushed at him. He picked her up and, in spite of the detriment to his immaculate suit, carried her quite gently back to Lisa, and then knelt in the sand beside her to examine her. She celebrated his arrival by being violently sick, and crying out that she had swallowed a lot of sea-water.
Dona Beatriz turned shocked and coldly disapproving eyes from Lisa to the tall, fair, handsome young man, wearing the briefest bathing-trunks, who had by this time joined the group.
‘We will get her back to the house,’ he said quietly, and he had hardly glanced at Lisa. ‘She is obviously suffering from some upset. It could be a touch of sun, or something she has eaten.’ ‘Or sea-water she
In the end they agreed to meet on the beach the following morning, and the meeting was repeated the following morning, and the morning after that. Lisa saw nothing wrong in just foregathering with a fellow-countryman on the beach, particularly as they were in full view of anyone who cared to study them, and although Gia was bashful at first, and declined to have very much to do with the Englishman, after the second morning she unbent, and by the fourth and fifth they were on excellent terms.
Lisa, who had been nervous of permitting Gia to enter the water while she was alone with her, had every confidence in entrusting her to the care of Peter, who seemed to take a liking to the small, plain Spanish child, with the enormous green eyes that made him think there was something elf-like about her. And after a few nervous essays on the edge of the water she gradually gained enough confidence to allow him to teach her a simple breast-stroke, which was followed by a sudden rush of enthusiasm to emulate everything he did.
But while permitting her to believe she was making enormous strides he was very careful of her, and it was sheer ill fortune that a threatening bilious attack brought about an onset of queasiness when she entered the water on the sixth morning after Peter Hamilton-Tracey had suddenly appeared on their limited horizon.
Only the night before Lisa had been thinking it strange that she had heard nothing from Madrid, and that after telephoning to make certain they were quite all right on the first night after their arrival Dr. Fernandez had suddenly seemed to assume that all must be well. He had written once, and sent Lisa a cheque for a generous month’s salary in advance, but that was all she had heard from him. And there had been no message for Gia in the letter.
But now, all at once, while Gia started to tread water wildly and rush back to the beach as if she was either in pain or sudden fright — and she was afflicted by both the physical and the mental disturbance — a car drew up on the coast road, and two people alighted and came across the sands to them.
Lisa took one look at the car and recognized it at once. She would know those long white lines anywhere. And the man in the light lounge suit, with a carelessly flowing tie and hair like
black silk in the sunshine — he was known to her even better than the car. And the woman who accompanied him could be none other than Dona Beatriz de Camponelli.
Dona Beatriz obviously didn’t believe in beach wear, or even informal holiday wear. Her silk suit was as impeccable as if she was going out to lunch at one of Madrid’s most exclusive clubs or restaurants, and the perilous high heels of her shoes were a menace to her ankles as she walked awkwardly across the yielding sand. The only concession to informality was the fact that she carried her large white cartwheel hat in her hand, so that her lovely red head was exposed to the caresses of the salt sea air and the sun.
Gia hurled herself into Lisa’s arms, burst into a flood of stormy weeping, and then when she caught sight of her
father absolutely rushed at him. He picked her up and, in spite of the detriment to his immaculate suit, carried her quite gently back to Lisa, and then knelt in the sand beside her to examine her. She celebrated his arrival by being violently sick, and crying out that she had swallowed a lot of sea-water.
Dona Beatriz turned shocked and coldly disapproving eyes from Lisa to the tall, fair, handsome young man, wearing the briefest bathing-trunks, who had by this time joined the group.
‘We will get her back to the house,’ he said quietly, and he had hardly glanced at Lisa. ‘She is obviously suffering from some upset. It could be a touch of sun, or something she has eaten.’ ‘Or sea-water she
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