Island of Mermaids (24 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

How long Kent was staying at his villa Althea did not know. She hoped with all her heart that the flying trip he had spoken of for her father
’
s wedding would be extremely brief. She could not bear to see him again until last night
’
s events had receded and she could see the situation in perspective.

Some of Emilia
’
s family and friends including Cristo were leaving today, but others were staying on until the return of Lawrence and Emilia.

Not long before dinner Althea passed along the terrace of the Villa Stefano close to the salon windows. Carla was singing but someone else was playing the accompaniment. Kent
’
s voice came unmistakably, scolding or giving instructions to Carla. Of all songs, he was teaching her
‘
Dashing away with the smoothing iron.
’

‘
Try again,
’
his voice floated out while Althea stood still only a few yards away.
“ ’
Twas on a Monday mo-o
rn
ing, when I beheld my da-arling...
”
’

Carla
’
s voice dutifully followed until he broke off to say,
‘
Smoothing iron, not
smooting
iron.
’

Carla laughed and giggled and his deeper note joined in. Althea moved away, for she would rather go a long route round than pass that window, but the phrase
‘
She stole my heart away
’
pursued her across the garden.

Of course, she thought bitterly and with undisguised envy, there was always Carla. Carla was never tired of his company, would always be amused. It was probable that until Kent actually married someone else she would never convince herself that she would not be his wife. Again, that vague query insinuated into her thoughts—unless he were already married?

Afraid that Kent might be staying to dinner, Althea went to Domenico
’
s caf
e
in the village. She was halfway through a meal when Brian joined her. He sat down with an outsize sigh.

‘
Tired?
’
she asked.

‘
Exhausted,
’
he returned.
‘
These Italian weddings take too much out of me, I
’
m afraid. I
’
m not the young man I was. I can
’
t stand the pace.
’

She laughed mockingly.
‘
Anyone would think you were ninety!
’

‘
I felt ninety-five today. D
’
you know I went clean off to sleep in the middle of the studio today. Dimly, I felt someone shaking my arm and a voice saying,
“
A real fine lad to leave in the shop.
”
I woke up with a start to find a large American face glaring at me.
“
Where
’
s the artist himself?
”
’
Brian grimaced when Althea asked,
‘
Did you tell him?
’

‘
Not likely. I apologised, bustled around showing the man pictures and said I hoped he wouldn
’
t tell my employer that he found me asleep.
’

‘D
id he buy anything?
’

‘
A little one of the Faraglioni rocks, not one of my best views, I think, but he says he
’
ll come back tomorrow and have a good nose round and see if there
’
s anything else he fancies.
’

‘
You
’
d better not be asleep a second time, then,
’
she warned him.
‘
Supposing he asks to see the boss?
’

Brian grinned.
‘
I
’
ll have to tell him that the boss is out painting the Blue Grotto
!’

Althea found it relaxing to sit with Brian and talk of general topics that did not tax the emotions. Then, because they spoke of her father
’
s wedding, the guests and the little incidents that amused them, Brian became suddenly quiet.

‘
I was glad you invited me, Althea, but I probably shouldn
’
t have gone. Weddings always make me miserable.
’
She remained silent, not even asking a trivial
‘
Why?
’
, for she knew that either he would give her his confidences or airily change the subject.

‘
My marriage has crashed,
’
he said after a long pause.
‘
We were too young, too immature, I suppose, but we were so frantically in love. Even our parents hadn
’
t the heart to put obstacles in the way, although my mother tried to persuade
me to wait a while.
’

‘
You were happy, though?
’
she queried when he paused.

‘
For quite a time. Two years, in fact. Then Margot found our life boring. I was teaching part-time at the local art school and painted in the holidays and any spare time I could manage. We hadn
’
t enough money to entertain much. We lived in a not very smart flat in an old house which had an attic. That was useful as a studio, but Margot often complained that I spent all my time up there. She wanted pretty clothes and the opportunities to wear them.
’

It was on the tip of Althea
’
s tongue to ask why this bored girl didn
’
t get herself a job, but Brian continued,
‘
She hadn
’
t been trained for any kind of job. When she left school I think she
’
d had some vague idea of modelling or something in the fashion world, but that came to nothing when we met and started going about together. She was only nineteen when we were married.
’

Althea sighed, thinking of so many young people who rushed into marriage before they were ready for it.

‘
It
’
s a mistake for a girl not to have been trained for a job to occupy her,
’
was all she said sympathetically.

‘
Then of course I suppose it was inevitable,
’
Brian went on,
’
Margot found other men to take her out and about when I couldn
’
t. She was quite honest about it, nothing underhand, but that didn
’
t make me any happier. In fact, I began to spend less time at my painting and more with Margot but the future looked bleaker than ever. I could see myself being tied to the treadmill of teaching more and more just to make a living and keep out of debt and never having time or opportunity to develop as a painter. Margot became involved with a smart set, parties, expensive holidays and all that and I just couldn
’
t keep up.
’
Brian sighed.
‘
So we had one good explosive row and said we
’
d call it a day. For a time she went back to her parents and I gave up the flat and shared a small place with a pal.
’

‘
And what of the future?
’
Althea asked.

He half smiled helplessly.
‘
I don
’
t know. We
’
ve never talked about divorce. We
’
re not even legally separated. Margot has a small flat in a better class neighbourhood and I pay the rent and give her a small allowance. We don
’
t write, but indirectly I heard that she had taken up fashion-drawing and was doing quite well.
’

Althea experienced a touch of exasperation. Why couldn
’
t the wretched Margot have used her talents to occupy herself sooner?

‘
If the time comes when she wants her freedom, if she meets someone else she wants to marry,
’
Brian shrugged as he spoke,
‘
I
’
ll have to agree, but I
’
ve never wanted that to happen. I still love her very much.
’

‘
Then why d
’
you put yourself at such an enormous distance from her?
’
she asked.

‘
A thousand or so miles doesn
’
t make any difference. We
’
re no farther apart than when we were living in the same flat. If she ever wants me back, it
’
s only a matter of a plane journey, a few hours, that
’
s all.
’

Althea smiled at him across the table.
‘
Then I hope that one day you
’
ll be taking that plane home.
’

Brian nodded.
‘
Let
’
s talk about something more cheerful.
’
He signalled to Domenico, the cafe owner, who was passing.
‘
Bring us some more wine, Domenico, please.
’

‘
Si,
signore
.
’

‘
Sorry, Althea. I didn
’
t mean to bore you with all my troubles,
’
Brian apologised.

‘
I wasn
’
t bored. I
’
m very sympathetic.
’

With another man, she might have assumed that Brian had given her his confidence in order to warn her off any possible romantic notions, but Brian was too honest to have such motives.

It was Carla who insisted on pairing her with Brian.

‘
You like the English artist?
’
she said the following morning.
‘
Perhaps you had dinner with him last night instead of staying here?
’

‘
Only by chance,
’
returned Althea guardedly.

‘
Kent was here, for you understand his house is almost shut and Assunta has so little in store, so I invited him here.
’

Althea congratulated herself on having avoided him.
‘P
erhaps you like Brian better than Kent?
’
pursued Carla.

‘
They
’
re two totally different men. How can one say you like this one or that one better?
’

‘
But of course! You do not like Cristo at all.
’

‘
Yes, that
’
s true,
’
snapped Althea. She didn
’
t want to hear Cristo
’
s name ever again or see him, but she could not tell Carla so.

‘
And I,
’
went on Carla more thoughtfully,
‘I
like Kent very much, but perhaps—some day—there could be someone else I would like better.
’

‘
Very possibly,
’
returned Althea idly. Then a warning almost shouted in her brain. Was Carla cooling off where Kent was concerned? If so, why? Perhaps it might be more enlightening to enquire who? Was there someone who had captured Carla
’
s fancy just recently? The girl had certainly spent a lot of time at the wedding in the company of Ermanno, but that might have been for the same reasons that Althea had monopolised Brian, merely to pique Kent. Perhaps in Carla
’
s case, the manoeuvre had worked, for she and Kent had apparently been on excellent t
erms when they were practising w
ashing away with the smoothing iron.
’

The next day Carla asked Althea,
‘
Are you coming to the Marina Grande?
’