Island of Mermaids (12 page)

‘
Certainly I
’
ll come with pleasure,
’
she agreed.

They found a vacant table outside Domenico
’
s bar in the main street and Brian first ordered a carafe of local wine, then changed his mind.
‘
No,
’
he said to Domenico,
‘
bring a bottle of Asti. This is an important occasion.

Domenico was not slow to comply. He was one of those very tall and burly Italians who look as if they are descended from Roman centurions, but nowadays often become great boxers or athletes. In his youth Domenico had been a valuable member of a Naples football team.

Brian and Althea were in the act of raising their glasses to toast the picture-buyer and wish more success for Brian, when Althea saw Kent coming down the street towards them.

He called
‘
Ciao
,’
waved his hand and without hesitation walked on.

‘
I
’
ve seen that chap about here quite a lot,
’
remarked Brian.
‘
D
’
you know him?
’

‘
Yes. He
’
s English and owns a ruined villa which he
’
s trying to restore, but apparently he comes here only in the summer for a couple of months.
’

‘
Good. I must try to meet him some time. He might perhaps be interested in a picture or two.
’

Althea thought it wiser not to encourage any idea of sales, for Kent might have other notions, especially as he seemed more in favour of an austere scheme of decoration.

When the champagne was finished Brian decided that he ought to have something to eat.
‘
I
’
ve had nothing since midday. What about you? What would you like?
’

‘
Thank you, but I
’
ve already had a substantial dinner.
’
But to keep him company while he ate, she agreed to order a pastry, one of Domenico
’
s specialities with a filling of hazelnut paste, glac
e
fruits and pistachio nuts.

Brian told her that he rented a room in a small house farther down the village.
‘
It
’
s comparatively cheap, but noisy until the children go to bed, so I don
’
t go back there until pretty late. Anyway, it
’
s all I can afford at the moment.
’

She raised her wineglass to him.
‘
Think of it! When you
’
re selling ten pictures a day, you
’
ll be able to buy a villa all to yourself.
’

Eventually she said she must return home or her father would wonder where she was. As they strolled past the caf
e
on the
corner
of the
piazzetta,
Althea was surprised to see Carla sitting at an outside table with another girl and two men companions. No second glance was needed to realise that one of the men was Kent and she turned her head away before either Carla or Kent could see her.

So that was why Carla was missing at dinner! Kent had obviously found it necessary to make his peace with her, probably take her to dinner somewhere and explain why he had dared to take another girl on a day trip. Away from the lights of the cafes and along the road where tall trees in villa gardens cast dark patches of shadow, Althea smiled. Kent need have no fear that any further excursions for her sake would cause him to grovel to Carla for forgiveness.

She bade Brian goodnight at the gates of the Villa Stefano and thanked him for the champagne.

‘
More power to your elbow
!’
she wished him, then added quickly,
‘
Your painting elbow, of course, not the champagne one.
’

‘
They go together,
’
he told her.

Yet neither Althea
’
s firm resolution nor Kent
’
s apparent
^;
olive-branch tactics saved her from C
arla
’
s attack next morn
ing. The Italian girl
’
s ap
proach was sweetness itself. She
waited until Althea had settled her father comfortably in the garden with his books, the English newspaper and a drink at his elbow.

‘
I have something to show you at the end of the garden,
’
Carla began.
‘
Will you come?
’

Let battle commence! thought Althea as she followed.

Where the path made a right-angled turn was a stone bench and here Carla stopped, whirled round on Althea.

‘
You enjoyed your visit to the Blue Grotto?
’
she asked, with scarcely controlled anger.

‘
Very much,
’
replied Althea.

‘
Then we will have the understanding between us,
’
declared Carla.
‘
There is nothing for you to see unless you look at the flowers. I must talk with you.
’

‘
Look, Carla,
’
began Althea patiently,
‘
there
’
s nothing for you to make a fuss about. My father accepted Kent
’
s invitation to the Blue Grotto and I was included.
’

‘
But I was not included!
’
Carla shot out the words like bullets from a gun.

‘
If you and your mother had been at home the night before, I
’
d have told you, but you were visiting someone and the next morning I didn
’
t see you to tell you. In any case, I expect you
’
ve seen the Blue Grotto many times.
’

‘
But not with Kent. That is what matters. You sneak away for a whole day with him. Perhaps your father did not accompany you, but you left him at a caf
e
on the Manna Grande.
’

Althea gave a
little
laugh.
‘
You must ask him if that
’
s what you believe.
’

‘
And he would tell me the truth?
’

‘
He usually does.
’
Althea refused to lose her temper.
‘
Calm down, Carla. If you regard Kent Sanderby as your property and no one else must accept invitations from him unless you
’
re there to see fair play, then go ahead. I can assure you that I
’
ve no intention of stealing him from you. I don
’
t think Kent is the sort of man who could be stolen by one woman from another.
’

Carla looked inten
tl
y into Althea
’
s face. Then she smiled disarmingly.
‘
You mean that? You are not in love with him?
’

‘
Of course I
’
m not,
’
Althea denied fl
a
tl
y.

‘
Then it is Cristo you love?
’
pursued Carla.

‘
Not in the least. Don
’
t hang me round his neck, for goodness
’
sake. I haven
’
t come to Capri to fall in love with anyone, nor even look for a husband while I
’
m here.
’

Carla sank on to the stone bench beside Althea.

‘
How can you prove that to me?
’
she asked urgen
tl
y.

‘
Why do I have to prove it?
’

‘
Because you do not know the future. You cannot foresee that one day you will fall in love with someone. But, please, it must not be Kent, for he is mine. Say on your honour that you will not let yourself fall in love with him.
’

‘
But d
’
you think your mother would let you marry Kent, even if he wants to marry you?
’

Carla
’
s young face lost its
animation
.
‘
Oh, there are so many difficulties. I know it is going to be hard. But Mamma will give her consent if she truly believes it will make me
happy. Althea, you have not spoken the word.
’

Althea smiled.
‘
All right. On my honour I will try not to fall in love with Kent Sanderby. That won
’
t be difficult.
’

But Carla was not satisfied.
‘
You said you would
“
try
”
. You must really prevent such a catastrophe.
’

‘
Very well. I
’
ll rub out the word
“
try
”
, if that pleases you better,
’
Althea agreed willingly. Such an undertaking was of trifling consequence to her if it allayed the quite unnecessary fears of an infatuated girl. When Kent
’
s long working holiday was ended and he returned to England, Carla would soon turn her attention to someone else. Yet it seemed to Althea that a stray gust of wind chilled the back of her neck and she changed her position. The sky was cloudless and this morning the sirocco, the south wind from Africa, stirred the cypresses with only a gentle motion.

‘
That is good. Now we are friends again,
’
Carla said with finality.

Althea rose and moved a few steps away.
‘
Did you tell Kent last night that you were upset about this affair?
’
she asked idly.

Carla flared up again immediately.
‘
Last night? How do you know whether I saw him or not?
’

‘
You were with him at the cafe in the square. I supposed you
’
d had dinner with him.
’

‘
I was too sad to have any dinner at all,
’
snapped Carla.
‘
And how does it come that you spy on me when I am merely taking a coffee with my friends and then Kent comes to join.us?
’

‘
Oh no, Carla, not spying. I merely happened to notice you and Kent as I passed.
’

‘
And you? You were alone sneaking around the village?
’
Althea had carelessly put herself into an awkward situation. She had no reason at all for hushing up the fact that she had spent part of the evening with Brian Telford. In fact, she had told her father about the meeting. But what would Carla make of an innocent encounter? The Italian girl
’
s mind was prone to elaborate fantasies out of the simplest incidents.

‘
No, I wasn
’
t alone. I met the artist who has opened a studio in the village. He
’
s English and my father and I met him a week or so ago.
’

Carla
’
s reaction was unexpected. Her anger disappeared and her voice became almost cooing.
‘
Oh, that is most happy news to me. You have found a new friend?
’

‘
An acquaintance.
’

Carla pursed her mouth, then smiled.
‘
You are very clever, Althea. I must learn from you. Now you know two Englishmen here and perhaps you could make one jealous of
the
other?
’

Althea laughed, only too delighted to follow Carla
’
s quick change of mood.
‘
I hadn
’
t thought of making anyone jealous. I doubt whether they will fight a duel over me.
’

Carla
’
s laugh trilled across the garden.
‘
No? But how romantic if such things happened now
!’

After the next singing lesson in Naples, it was agreed that Althea need not accompany Carla while the master class was in progress. Signora Marchetti seemed to believe that no harm would come to her daughter in the circumstances, although Carla had strict instructions that she was to take taxis to and from Professor Scarpelli
’
s house and certainly not linger about the harbour.

Althea was glad to be relieved of this duty, although she was interested enough at all times to visit Naples for other purposes.
‘
There
’
s so much we haven
’
t yet seen there,
’
she told her father.
‘
Probably you have, but I haven
’
t.
’

‘
No, I don
’
t know Naples at all well,
’
he replied.
‘
We must go sightseeing. Some of the museums have some fine collections, I
’
m told. And then there
’
s the San Carlo opera, although we shall probably have to wait until the autumn season starts.
’

Althea reflected that the future during the next few months would hold plenty of interest for her. There was more to Capri than idling in the sun. If her father
’
s projected shop came off successfully, that in itself would provide enormous stimulation. In a way, she would be glad to put in a few working hours on a more regular routine and then use her leisure time for visiting the mainland with its historic spots like Pompeii and Herculaneum.

During the next fortnight she and her father were busy working out some of the details for the shop, the cost of fitting it out with shelves and counter space, the amount of stock needed and so on.

‘
I must get some of my ideas straight in my head before I ask Kent for any help
,’
Lawrence Buckland told his daughter. Tm wondering if in addition to the silks and other Italian-produced textiles, we could also stock a few pieces of English or Scottish tweeds.
’

‘
You
’
re not proposing visits to the mills at home, I hope?
’
she warned him.

‘
Oh, I don
’
t know. I might be able to go. If not, you could do the rounds.
’

‘
I don
’
t think I
’
m a good enough judge,
’
she objected.
‘
Nonsense. You
’
ve had enough experience to know good cloth from bad and what will sell.
’

But the prospect of a trip or two to England was enlivening.

At the week-end Cristo reappeared and announced that he was staying for a few days. On the Sunday evening Carla arranged an evening trip to Naples.

‘
I know of a delightful restaurant with a garden where we can have dinner.
’

‘
Who else is coming?
’
asked Althea, scenting the possibility of being left alone with Cristo while Carla went off somewhere else.

‘
Who? Kent, of course
!’
Carla
’
s tone was one of astonishment that she should be asked such a silly question.

Althea tried to persuade her father to come on the trip, but he declined.
‘
I
’
ll stay here and keep Emilia company while you young people live it up in Naples.
’