Island of Mermaids (11 page)

He led the other two outside and into a bedroom sparsely furnished, but cluttered with sheet music, operatic scores and magazines. In one
corner
the jumble was varied by a collection of fragments of marble or stone.

‘
Eventually I
’
m hoping to turn this room into a small dining-room, since it has one of the best views. Then I shall move my bedroom into another at the side of the house.
’

‘
What are you hoping to find among all these bits of marble and so on?
’
asked Mr. Buckland.

‘
I
’
m not sure
,’
Kent replied.
‘
I don
’
t expect to be so lucky as the Swedish doctor at San Michele with his beautiful mosaic pavement or his treasures found at the bottom of the sea and in hidden caves, but it would be pleasant to be able to put together a few fragments of marble and find they added up to something recognisable—part of a head, perhaps, or a wall decoration.
’

His tone was dreamy and wistful and as though he were slightly ashamed of such self-indulgence, he said briskly,
‘
The kitchen—if you can call such a rough place by that name—is round this
corner
.
’
Althea and her father followed him to a tiny building about the size of a small woodshed.
‘
Assunta does most of her cooking outside and as I
’
m only here in the summer, that fits in quite well, but when there
’
s rain or the sirocco blows, then she must have some protection.
’

Althea did not envy the woman.
‘
She must be a saint to put up with such conditions,
’
she commented.
‘
I don
’
t believe I could turn out an omelette in a place like this.
’

Kent eyed her with a smiling derision.
‘
You
’
ve been pampered and spoiled with stainless steel sinks and all kinds of gadgets to shred this and mix that. You
’
re not tough enough to cope with semi-primitive situations.
’

‘
Are you? Why can
’
t you pretend you
’
re on safari and cope with your own cooking chores? Why burden poor Assunta?
’

‘
Don
’
t talk so indignantly. You
’
ll wake poor Assunta from her well-earned siesta.
’

He pointed to a shady
corner
where the old woman rested in a broken chair, her wrinkled face downbent, her work
-
worn hands idly clasped in her lap.

‘
Won
’
t it take years to do all you want to make this a really habitable villa?
’
she asked in a whisper, moving away a little from the sleeping Assunta.

‘
I
’
m sure it will,
’
he agreed.
‘
Even when it becomes habitable, I shall still want to go on adding, altering, improving, restoring.
’

‘
An obsession or a hobby?
’
she queried.

‘
Both. But I
’
m not yet an old man. I
’
ve years in front of me, I hope.
’

Althea had not thought of approximating his age. Now as she turned away from him so that she should not be caught scrutinising his face, she guessed that he was between twenty
-
eight and thi
rt
y. He could hardly be less, taking into account the years of training before he would qualify, and the experience he must have gained since then if he was now entrusted with important restoration commissions.

L
awrence Buckland had found himself a chair on the long terrace on the seaward side of the villa and was already stretched out comfortably.

‘
You have a difficult task here,
’
he said as Kent and Althea joined him.
‘
Isn
’
t it possible to get help?
’

Kent laughed.
‘
Rinaldo who lives in the village is supposed to come and do the garden and, if necessary, help me a little with the masonry, but he likes working in the winter rather than in the summer. His gardening is usually done in the shade of my chestnut trees.
’

‘
Eventually you
’
ll have a wonderful show-place,
’
Lawrence said with enthusiasm.
‘
Even a rival to San Michele.
’

‘
No. Just a comfortable villa to live in.
’

‘
A summer palace?
’
queried Althea.

The keen glance he gave her was one of amused derision mingled with a hint of tenderness.
‘
I hadn
’
t thought of it as anything so grand,
’
he said slowly. Then he turned his head to look across the sea.
‘
That, of course, would need a consort.
’

Althea flushed and walked a step or two away, pretending to examine a clump of canna lilies. She had led the conversation into a dangerous channel and it had served her right that he had taken the opportunity to warn her off. In effect,
he was telling her that she must not probe into a future part of his life that did not concern her. At the same time, she did not need the warning. If she had actively disliked
him
there might have been a hazard that such antagonism would prove to be only the obverse of a growing attraction to
him.
As it was, she was entirely indifferent.

A couple of hours later when her father had rested for some time and then Kent had made a large pot of tea, the Bucklands decided it was time to return to the Villa Stefano.

‘
The tea was excellent
,’
Mr. Buckland complimented Kent.
‘
Really English.
’

Kent laughed.
‘
Made by my own hands. You can
’
t trust anyone on the Continent to boil the water and I bring the tea with me from England.
’

He accompanied father and daughter along the path between the two villas.

‘
Thank you for giving us both such an enjoyable day,
’
Althea said to Kent. Then she noticed the small clump of chestnut trees about halfway along the path and remembered that unpleasant interlude with Cristo the night before his departure for the mainland.

Kent grinned down at her.
‘
No trouble at all. It was a pleasure for me, too.
’
Then he added in a lower tone,
‘
I thought it might cheer you up after Cristo had gone.
’

She stared ahead, knowing that her cheeks had reddened. Her polite thanks uttered at that precise point along the path had evidently steered his thoughts to that night.

But she saw that if she remained silent he would goad her into some other indiscretion.
‘
Cristo
’
s comings and goings are not likely to make any difference to me,
’
she said coolly.

‘
No?
’
His voice held disbelief.
‘
Carla told me that he was quite fascinated by you.
’

‘
That doesn
’
t mean I reciprocate his extremely transient feelings,
’
she snapped. In her indignation she had spoken more loudly than intended and now remembered that her father was only two or three paces ahead.

‘
I wonder!
’
Kent continued, almost under his breath.
‘
Handsome young Italians can sometimes be capable of quite durable devotion, and their persistence often has surprising
results.
’

‘
I can assure you that Cristo
’
s persistence will get him nowhere
.’

The trio were now close to the Villa Stefano and Carla was leaning over the terrace wall. Kent waved to her, but the girl made no answering gesture. Her immediate reaction was to turn her back on Althea and the two men and walk into the villa.

‘
I
’
ll leave you here,
’
murmured Kent, more to Mr. Buckland than to Althea.

‘
Sure you won
’
t come in?
’
invited Mr. Buckland.
‘
We have our own apartments here, you know.
’

‘
Another time,
’
Kent promised.
‘
Ciao.
’

Althea gazed for a moment after his retreating figure walking rapidly down the path. So he was a coward when it came to facing Carla
’
s displeasure, for it was already apparent, as Althea had feared, that a day
’
s outing with Kent without Carla
’
s blessing was likely to cause contention.

Carla did not appear at dinner, and that was something of a respite. Lawrence Buckland explained to Signora Emilia how they had spent the day with Kent.

‘
That was very enjoyable for you,
’
she agreed.
‘
That is, if you like little boats,
’
she added, with a shudder.
‘
D
’
you know that I have never been to the Blue Grotto? Oh no, I could not bring myself to step from one boat to a smaller one and then be rowed into a cave.
’

‘
You must come with us another time and we
’
ll give you courage,
’
suggested Mr. Buckland.

The Signora
’
s almost black eyes glistened with animation, but the next moment she had veiled them with a downward glance.

Althea wondered what kind of life Signora Marchetti had been allowed to lead during her husband
’
s lifetime. Was it nothing but a round of visits to friends and acquaintances interspersed with entertaining and domestic duties? When the Bucklands had first come to the Villa Stefano, the Italian woman had seemed politely gracious, but not at all enthusiastically welcoming. She had maintained an air of chilly distance, but gradually Althea became aware that the gap had narrowed considerably in recent weeks. Lawrence had taught the Signora various card games; it was noticeable that whenever she and Lawrence sat together, whether in the salon or out of doors on one of the terraces or in the gardens, they appeared to be in harmony. There were often animated exchanges of conversation in Italian between the two and Signora Marchetti
’
s plump face frequently creased into the happiest of smiles when she scored a point.

Althea was comforted by this understanding between her father and his Italian hostess. If the situation had turned out otherwise, then the Bucklands would have been forced to find other accommodation or even leave Capri altogether.

After dinner Althea decided that she would go out for a stroll through the village. At the
piazzetta
in the centre she turned left and walked along the street leading to San; Michele. She wanted to see what progress had been made on the new shops. Very little in the last few days, she saw, but: assumed that until the shops were let for a particular purpose, the fittings could not be provided.

On her way back the young English artist, Brian Telford, was locking up his studio.

‘
Oh, Miss Buckland
!’
he greeted her.

‘
How
’
s business?
’
she asked.

He clasped his hands in a boyish gesture. Tine! I
’
ve sold three paintings today.
’

‘
Splendid!
’

‘
Yes. I don
’
t charge exorbitant prices, because I want to sell, but two pictures were bought by a man who really knows something about painting. He says he might show them in a gallery in London for me. He says he puts in a few of his own from time to time.
’

‘
Oh, that is good news. I hope you
’
ll have a good season and plenty of success.
’

For a moment he remained silent. Then he said hesitantly,
‘
I suppose you wouldn
’
t care to come and celebrate with me? I
’
d like to drink the man
’
s health, but one can
’
t do it alone.
’