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Authors: Iris Danbury

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BOOK: Illyrian Summer
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She did not say that the real purpose of waiting was not for herself, but to give him time to cool off his present infatuation. She was convinced that if Daniel were away from her for even a few weeks, he would speedily forget her for a blonde or brunette elsewhere.

Sarah gently refused Daniel

s invitation to dinner at a restaurant in the city.

Edmund may want to discuss the situation with you at the villa. I

ll come with you another time.

After the meal Sarah and Radmilla sat together on the hotel terrace, talking a little, with long silences that were charged with unspoken doubts and problems.

They drank small sips of plum brandy and wished happiness for each other in the future.


I shall miss you when I go home, Radmilla.

It was almost midnight when the two girls crossed the terrace to enter their hotel.

Sarah had the impression that the ground beneath her feet rose and fell again, as though she were in a boat that had crested a wave. She stopped and again came this curious sensation.

She looked toward Radmilla.

Did you feel that?


No. What was it?


I don

t know. It seemed like the earth turning over in its sleep.

Radmilla laughed.

Perhaps it is the plum brandy in your feet!

Everything in the hotel seemed normal. The reception clerk was telephoning; the waiters hurried to and fro with trays of coffee or drinks.

Sarah dismissed the strange incident from her mind, but early next morning Radmilla came into her roo
m.
The Slav girl was fully dressed for traveling.


Sarah! I have to return to my home in Krasnograd. Last night there was a terrible earthquake there, so I must go to my family—if they are still there.

Radmilla spoke agitatedly.

Tell Edmund I do not know when I shall return.


Was that what I felt last night when the ground shook?


Yes. I am told the town is wrecked, but I must get there somehow. Goodbye, Sarah. Perhaps I shall not see you again.

She hurriedly embraced Sarah and went from the room.

Sarah stared unseeingly at the walls of her bedroom. An earthquake at Krasnograd! The town where Adam
Thorne
lived with worked.

She sprang out of bed. Oh, why hadn

t she gathered her wits sufficiently to ask Radmilla to inquire about
Adam and let her
k
now if he was safe? Too late now. Or was it? She picked up the room telephone to give a message to Radmilla on her way out of the hotel.

Then Sarah slowly put down the receiver and held her hands against her flaming cheeks. How could she ask Radmilla, worried about the safety of her parents and family, to care about Adam?

In vain Sarah excused herself on the grounds that naturally she was concerned about a man she had met several times, who had shown her both kindness and the sharp edge of his disapproval. Edmund, too, would be concerned. And Melanie. Surely she would be interested in Adam

s safety.

But Sarah failed to disguise from her inmost thoughts that she loved Adam and that his well-being meant more than anything else in the world to her. This was the real reason why Daniel

s pleadings had failed to awaken her. It was not her youth or inexperience that made her unsusceptible, but this unknown, undiscovered love for another man.

All through the long day
Sarah moved in a world of tormenting suspense, waiting for news, trying not to believe the terrible rumors of a whole city wrecked, of many lives lost, homes destroyed.

Edmund kept her busy with cables and telephone calls to the film studios in Italy, to the London offices, but the lines were continuously blocked with more urgent messages.


Tell them our calls
are
urgent,

Edmund ordered.

In vain she tried to contact Krasnograd itself, but there were no direct communications.


They say the telephone lines are all damaged,

she told Edmund,

and the radio station destroyed. The newspaper office in Dubrovnik says that Krasnograd will probably try to set up a small radio transmitter as soon as possible and give them the news.


All right. Keep trying until we get replies from
somewhere. I

m stuck here with no orders, no permission to go anywhere, and the company ought to know that it

s costing them money.


Edmund, how far outside Krasnograd was the place where Adam worked?


Not sure. A couple of miles, perhaps.


So he might be safe. If we could get in touch with him, we might get some news,

Sarah pointed out.


See what you can do, then.

She remembered Adam

s friends at Mostar, and asked Edmund,

How did they spell their name? Those friends at Mostar.


It was a Turkish name and I had it on a piece of paper, but I gave that to Radmilla.

So there was no help there. After much searching among unfamiliar names in the directory, she telephoned the hotel where they had eaten lunch that day in Mostar and eventually obtained the number of the Turkish family. But in her agitation, Sarah

s tenuous command of the Serbo-Croatian language deserted her and it was difficult to make herself understood. All she could do was leave the villa

s telephone number in case there was news to pass on.

When she stepped out onto the terrace, taking care to remain within sound of the telephone; the scene looked exactly the same as yesterday. Palms and cypresses reared against the blue sky and bluer sea, and the sun shone on the golden walls of the city, all untouched by tragedy. It seemed as though nature smiled treacherously after the night

s destruction.

Melanie and Daniel came up the steps from the beach.


What

s the latest news?

Daniel queried.


None.

Sarah

s reply sounded more curt than she had intended.


Oh, I expect all the reports are wildly exaggerated,

Melanie observed.

Like all these happenings. Disasters always become magnified by rumors.


I think it

s more than rumor, Miss Roche,

Sarah retorted spiritedly.

If I myself felt the earth move under my feet last night, it must have been very severe in Krasnograd, more than two hundred and fifty miles away.

Melanie

s eyes widened.

You mean you actually felt the earth shake? Oh, no, you imagined it.

Sarah glanced at Melanie, but made no further claim.

If Sarah says she felt it, she did,

Daniel asserted.

What time was it?


A few minutes before midnight.


Why, of course!

Daniel exclaimed.

Don

t you remember, Melanie? We were sitting here on the terrace about that time and our drinks swirled about in the glasses. I merely thought someone had jogged the table.


And, of course, that was the explanation,

Melanie said.


Edmund was wondering. Miss Roche,

she began,

if you had heard any news of Mr.
Thorne
. He

s working near Krasnograd.

The question in the way Sarah had framed it was not strictly true, but then she could hardly ask point-blank in her own interest.

Melanie stared at Sarah, puffed out a cloud of smoke from her cigarette before answering, with a faint smile,

My dear Sarah, how could I possibly know? Adam and I are old friends, but if the earthquake is as serious as people say it is, then it

s not likely that Adam is left with the only remaining telephone line. Tell—

Melanie paused and gave Sarah a measured glance

—Edmund
that I have no news.


Yes, Miss Roche.


And, Sarah,

Melanie continued with one of her most charming smiles,

you might also tell Edmund that—

She stopped abruptly.

No, I

ll tell him myself.

She moved past Sarah out onto the sunlit terrace. Suddenly Sarah felt some of the tension snap. She
had idled long enough in this gnawing suspense. Inactivity was no cure for the morbid dread constantly in her thoughts.

She typed a note for Edmund, placed it by the typewriter and went quietly out of the villa by the farther door into the road, so that neither Daniel nor Melanie would see her.

This evening the
placa
was hushed. People collected in forlorn groups and spoke in whispers. The cafes were half-empty, but a great crowd surged around the newspaper office to read the latest scraps of such information as they had been able to obtain.

Sarah was baffled by the unfamiliar words, but after laborious translation from her pocket dictionary she understood that volunteers were needed to give and to pack blankets, stores and medical supplies.

Trestle tables had already been set out and great piles of clothing, blankets and bedding were being sorted and bundled up.

This was something positive that she could do, Sarah thought, and approached a table where there were few helpers. The women immediately made a place for her and one talked rapidly to Sarah.


Engleskinja
,

murmured Sarah, who had understood no more than a word or two, but by pantomimic signs and smiles she soon grasped what was required. She folded blankets and coats, sorted shoes and tied them in pairs, and for a brief time forgot her immediate fears for both Adam and Radmilla.

The woman next to her broke off to write a penciled note and insert it among a bundle of blankets.


Sestra
!”
she explained to Sarah, who gathered that the woman had a sister living in Krasnograd and hoped the note might reach her.

An idea worth copying, thought Sarah, who immediately rummaged in her handbag to find a scrap of paper. She did not know Radmilla

s address, but the surname

Kubovic

might find the family. She wrote briefly,
hoping that Radmilla and her relatives were safe and well.

It was more difficult to write a note to Adam without appearing too formal or too effusive, but she managed a few lines that she thought could be interpreted only in a friendly way, and added Edmund

s name to her own to make the message sound a more collective concern. What did it matter anyway? The chances of the note

s ever reaching Adam were very remote indeed. The only address she knew was the steel plant and the nearest she could get to this was

celik fabrica
,”
which was probably all wrong, so for good measure she added,

Steelworks, near Krasnograd

in English.

Even that was vague, but she tucked the paper inside a folded blanket and mentally added,
with love from Sarah.
That, of course, was a thought to be ruthlessly suppressed. She concentrated on the tasks in hand and did not notice the time until she glanced at her watch. Eleven o

clock! It couldn

t be so late, but she realized how tired and hungry she was and decided to return.

Outside, the cooler air revived her as she walked up the steps and through the Pile gateway. A few people still sat at the cafe tables under the trees, and Sarah went across and ordered coffee and whatever food was available. The waiter brought her a plate of
ricet,
a dish of smoked pork with barley and beans, and she was pleasantly surprised, having expected only a plate of assorted cold meats.

After eating she felt less tired and walked back to her hotel, for she guessed that the last tram had already gone.

From the small garden by the hotel entrance a man

s figure emerged, almost startling her.


Sarah!


Daniel! What are you doing here?


Waiting for you to come home, I suppose,

he answered.

We were worried about you when you didn

t come to the villa for dinner and Edmund telephoned to find out if you

d come back here.


But I left him a note that I was going down into the town,

Sarah explained.

I felt I couldn

t hang about doing nothing when there

s so much need of voluntary helpers.


And what have you been doing?


Only parceling up clothing and blankets. Little enough, really, when you hear of the enormous damage and how many people are homeless in Krasnograd. Is there any more news?


I haven

t heard anything definite. Only the wildest rumors. We shall be able to see for ourselves. Edmund has received the go-ahead for taking a small unit to Krasnograd and making a documentary. So that should keep you busy.


Oh, that

s marvelous news! We might be able to get in touch with Radmilla and find out if she and her family are safe.

Sarah would not mention Adam. Daniel was always too eager to pounce at the sound of Adam

s name.

When do we start?


Tomorrow, if possible. Edmund will tell you.

Edmund

s instructions were to give up the rooms she and Radmilla had occupied and take everything to the villa.


We don

t know exactly when we

ll be back,

he said.

Next morning Sarah packed all her belongings and collected a number of Radmilla

s clothes and small possessions that the Slav girl had not had time to bother about.

At the villa activity amounted almost to chaos with Edmund at the storm center giving orders, telephoning, dictating, all with that calm control that possessed him when there was real work to do. Only in times of idle frustration did Edmund seethe with impatience.

Formalities had to be complied with, and Sarah made several visits to the police office for the documents and passes that would enable the film unit to get through to the disaster area.

She returned from one of these visits to find Edmund and Daniel in the midst of a heated argument.


I know I have to take orders from you, Edmund,

Daniel was saying,

but why do I have to stay here doing nothing?


We

re making a documentary,

Edmund protested,

not a drama with you as the hero.


I know that!

Daniel snapped.

And I shan

t expect to be taken in close-up or exposing my handsome profile while I

m giving a hand to a gang digging out some poor wretch from a wrecked building.

After some further discussion, Sarah was instructed to make out the necessary applications for Daniel.


I

ll take you down to the city,

Daniel offered.

You

ve already made several journeys.

BOOK: Illyrian Summer
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