When Summer Fades (11 page)

Extending a hand in greeting, José Ramirez beamed. ‘Welcome to Portugal, Sophie. You come well prepared, I think. Although our weather is not quite as it is in England.’

‘That’s not Sophie’s luggage. It’s mine,’ Rosa giggled.

‘Yours? Gracious child!’ Elisabete broke in. ‘Where are we to put it?’ We can’t fit both of you, and all that luggage, into our car. What have you been buying?’

‘Just a few presents and souvenirs,’ Rosa said, with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, linking arms with her father.

‘Then perhaps we should ask Carlos to take something or someone?’ José replied.

Rosa stopped in her tracks. ‘Carlos is here? Where?’

‘Parking his car. He was held up in a meeting, but still decided to drive down this evening. He plans to spend the weekend with us and return to Lisbon on Sunday.’

Carlos here! Sophie’s heart missed a beat. She hadn’t expected to see him quite so soon, least of all at the airport. She thought it was only Rosa’s parents coming to meet them. Combing her fingers through her hair, she scanned the crowds of healthy-looking people. Against them all she felt extremely pale and insignificant.

‘Carlos!’ Rosa cried, jumping up and down, waving frantically at a distant figure. Within moments she was in his arms, hugging him warmly.

Kissing his cousin on both cheeks, Carlos looked beyond Rosa’s shoulder and spied Sophie attempting to hide. Navy blue eyes smiled in greeting as he released Rosa from his embrace and walked towards her.

‘Sophie,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘Welcome to the Algarve. I very much hope you enjoy your stay with us.’

‘I’m sure I shall,’ she faltered.

Aware of excited conversation going on between Rosa, her parents and Carlos, Sophie was surprised when Rosa came over and took her by the arm.

‘Then if that is all right with you, Sophie? We can go.’

‘I’m sorry Rosa, other than hearing my name mentioned, I didn’t understand a word. I confess my Portuguese isn’t as good as your English.’

‘No problem. You won’t be expected to speak Portuguese. For the moment you don’t need to. You are going with Carlos. As you know he speaks very good English.’

Going
with
Carlos
! Sophie froze. Now what should she do? If only she could turn round and catch the next plane to England? Biting her lip, she hurried after Rosa. ‘Surely you’d prefer to travel with Carlos? I mean, with your forthcoming engagement you must have lots to discuss.’

‘
Sim
. Perhaps, but Carlos suggests you go with him. As for me, I must go with my parents, to explain why I buy so much.’

In a daze Sophie walked from the airport to the car park, where the two men were struggling to distribute Rosa’s luggage. Leaving them to it, Rosa climbed into the back of her parents’ sleek black coupe and surrounded herself with her ‘
souvenirs
.’

‘
Adeus
.
Ate
logo
,’ she called, waving goodbye.

Returning to his own car, Carlos raised a puzzled eyebrow. ‘Is this all you have?’ ‘Yes,’ Sophie said, watching him load her one small suitcase and flight bag into the boot. ‘Rosa told me we’d be spending most of the time at the beach house.’

‘Did she indeed? I hope for your sake that you don’t. I’d like to think of you seeing a bit more than the just the family beach house during your stay.’

Slamming the boot shut, Carlos’s face broke into a broad grin, navy blue eyes smiling playfully. ‘Ah, I see. So you would like to drive my new car?’ He held up a set of shiny car keys. ‘Then you are most welcome.’

‘No!’ Sophie gasped. ‘I’ve never driven abroad before. I’d prefer if you—’

‘Then dare I suggest you come this side, that is the driver’s door.’

Flustered, Sophie hurried towards the open door, slid on to creamy, soft leather upholstery, and breathed in the newness of it all. The faithful Poppy had never smelt like this; she’d already registered sixty-thousand miles before she even came into Sophie’s possession. Curious, she glanced at the impressive walnut dashboard. A quick conversion from miles to kilometres told her Carlos hadn’t had this magnificent Volvo C70 for very long.

‘It’s a beautiful car,’ she whispered.

‘Thank you. I’m glad you like it. Val Kilmer drove a similar model in the film
The
Saint
. As a boy I was a great Lesley Charteris fan. I read all his books.’

Gazing from the car window in silence, Sophie marvelled at the surrounding countryside. She’d seen it all before of course. Back then it had been in miniature, on Monty and Edna’s numerous holiday photos and postcards. Now it was for real.

Low-growing scrub dotted with cacti and red sandstone boulders soon gave way to tiny villages and scattered luxury villas, each with honey-gold roofs and ornately decorated chimneys. Rosa had told her that in times gone by, the more chimneys a house had the wealthier the occupants. How many chimneys would there be at the Ramirez family villa, she mused, discerning a faint smell of wood smoke from a solitary farmhouse high on a hill.

In time, with the diminishing daylight, Sophie realized it was pointless trying to work out where they were, or how far they’d come. The names on the road signs, other than Lisbon and Faro appeared almost alien. All she could remember was that Carlos had taken the N25 out of Faro airport before exiting towards Portimão and the E101.

‘You are very quiet,’ he observed. ‘Perhaps you would have preferred to travel with my aunt and uncle?’

Sophie turned to him, wide eyed. She was hardly likely to tell him how she felt each time he changed gear and his hand accidentally brushed against her thigh!

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be unsociable. I’m probably tired after the journey. We’ve also been extremely short-staffed at the hospital.’

‘I expect summer is a busy time in casualty.’

‘Exhausting is perhaps the best way to describe it.’

‘And exhausting looking after Rosa, too, I should imagine?’

Sophie hesitated, unsure how to respond. She was here as Rosa’s guest, the woman Carlos was going to marry. It hardly seemed fair to criticize.

‘Rosa’s not exactly exhausting. She simply has a lively personality. Although she has been studying really hard with her English.’

Carlos grinned in the darkness. ‘That’s largely thanks to you. I told Rosa if she didn’t work hard, she wouldn’t be able to stay with you.’

‘Oh, I see, ’ Sophie lied, knowing full well she didn’t.

Moments later when Carlos pulled off the main road into a sweeping, tree-lined driveway, Rosa and her parents were already waiting in the cool of a marble hallway.

‘I expect she’s had a great deal of explaining to do,’ he said softly, unloading the car. ‘When she came home for Easter, she was given strict instructions to curb her spending. From what I can see it’s obvious that she hasn’t.’

Taking her flight bag, Sophie was suddenly filled with panic. ‘You don’t think her parents will blame me, do you?’

‘My dear Sophie!’ Carlos said with a disarming grin. ‘You have nothing to fear. Rosa’s parents know her only too well. They have only themselves to blame for indulging her. Charming as she might be, she is also a very extravagant child. What is it you say in England? Rosa is a law unto herself.’

Yet despite her faults, Sophie wanted to ask, following Carlos into the coolness of the villa, do you still love her enough to marry her?

Once inside, Sophie gazed in awe at her surroundings. From ceiling to floor, everywhere was a vision of comfort, style and elegance.

‘It’s like a Moorish Palace,’ she gasped, without thinking.

‘That’s quite possibly because the local architecture has been heavily influenced by the Moors,’ Carlos explained. ‘It’s too dark to see now but in the morning you’ll see evidence of it everywhere. And, although I’m sure I know where you’ll be sleeping, perhaps it will be better if Rosa shows you herself.’ So saying, Carlos called to Rosa and went to join his Uncle José.

‘Is there nothing you need? And are you sure about not having any supper?’ Rosa queried, accompanying Sophie to the guest suite.

‘Positive,’ Sophie yawned. All she wanted to do was go to bed. As for her immediate needs, Elisabete (or was that Augustina?) had taken care of everything. A bowl of fruit, bottled water, towels, bathrobe and assorted toiletries, what more did she require?

Saying goodnight to Rosa, and sticky and dusty from her journey, Sophie removed her watch and decided to take a shower. She couldn’t possibly slip between such fine bed linen, covered with the grime and dust of the past six hours. ‘Six hours!’ she gasped. It was already approaching midnight, and Augustina hadn’t put in an appearance as yet. Either she wasn’t here or else she was away on her broomstick.

Her thoughts winging away to broomsticks, the bewitching hour of midnight and the way her pulse had raced while sitting in the confines of Carlos’s car, Sophie stepped from the shower. Patting herself dry she spied her discarded clothes. With a faint smile on her lips she thought of Callie and, reminded of their conversation about
smalls
, she found her travel-sized bottle of liquid detergent, rinsed through her undies, and made her way to the balcony door. If she hung them out now, they would be dry by morning.

Once on the narrow balcony that led from her bedroom, Sophie breathed in the sweetly scented air. The Algarve night was just as she expected; dotted with myriad twinkling stars and filled with the heavy scent of exotic blossoms and chattering cicadas.

‘Oh, yes. Truly bewitching,’ she sighed, peering into the darkness below.

There, unfamiliar objects (presumably pieces of garden furniture and ornate trees and shrubs) appeared as inky black shapes in the moonlight. That was until the patio doors slid open and two figures, bathed in electric light, walked arm in arm onto the veranda. She recognised Rosa’s childish laughter immediately.

Not wishing to draw attention to herself Sophie slipped into the shadows, conscious of her heart beating wildly in her breast. If she opened her balcony door now Rosa and Carlos would hear. Why hadn’t she left it ajar? Reminding herself it was because of the mosquitoes, who always sensed when she was in the vicinity, she had little choice but to wait until Rosa and Carlos returned indoors.

Back in her room and more than ready for bed, Sophie reached to switch off the lamp and glimpsed her book, cover uppermost, on the bedside table. Twenty minutes ago, refreshed from her shower, she’d even considered the possibility of reading for a while. Now she dismissed the idea completely. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and pray for a dreamless sleep. One that would dispel from her mind the haunting vision of Rosa leaning her head on Carlos’s shoulder as they’d stood side by side in the moonlight.

Chapter 8

Refreshed by sleep, Sophie stirred at the sound of voices, only to be instantly reminded of Carlos and Rosa together in the moonlight. Pushing back the shutters, she shielded her eyes against brilliant sunshine, tiptoed on to her balcony and peered over.

Wearing beige linen trousers, and a navy and beige, shadow-checked shirt, Carlos was sitting on the terrace reading the morning paper. Rosa was walking towards him, a small package in her hand. Presuming it to contain the silk tie bought for him at Heathrow, Sophie watched Carlos lay down his paper, examine the tie and kiss his cousin on the cheek. He laughed when Rosa said something Sophie couldn’t understand and tapped her playfully with his newspaper.

With a squeal, Rosa plucked a bunch of grapes from the breakfast table and began pelting Carlos with fruit, stopping only when her mother’s voice echoed from the kitchen.

At that same moment both Carlos and Rosa looked up towards Sophie’s balcony. Surprised to see her standing there, Carlos called out to her.

‘I’m very sorry Sophie. My noisy cousin and I appear to have woken you.’

‘I was already awake,’ she replied, conscious of the fact she wasn’t dressed.

‘Come and get some breakfast,’ Rosa beckoned. ‘It’s wonderful on the terrace. Don’t bother about dressing. Carlos won’t mind, he’s used to seeing me in my nightie.’

I’m sure he is! Sophie thought, having a quick wash and reaching into the wardrobe for a simple blue cotton, wrap around dress. Seeing Sophie approach, Carlos stood up, gestured to a chair and poured her a glass of orange juice.

‘You didn’t do that for me,’ Rosa teased.

‘No,’ he grinned. ‘Because you made such rude comments about the way I dress.’

Carlos picked up his new silk tie – a navy-blue with tiny red polka dots – and held it towards Sophie. ‘Do you know what she said when she gave me this? She bought it because it’s boring, like me!’

‘You are,’ Rosa giggled. ‘You’re far too old fashioned!’

‘I beg to disagree,’ Carlos protested. ‘What do you think Sophie?’

Almost choking on her orange juice, Sophie was at a loss to reply.

‘You see, Carlos,’ Rosa said, immediately. ‘Sophie must agree with me. She’s too polite to tell you otherwise.’

Sophie felt herself colour. ‘I was going to say it’s not fair to ask me. I don’t know Carlos that well. But he – er – always looks smart.’

Carlos smiled broadly. ‘Thank you Sophie, I’m glad I have an ally. I’m convinced if Rosa had her way she’d have me dressing like a teenager, I sometimes think she forgets I’m almost old enough to be her father.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Rosa mused, for once deeply thoughtful. ‘But you could wear shorts occasionally.’

‘I do wear shorts occasionally,’ Carlos corrected, looking directly at Rosa. ‘I wear them at the beach house. Here – unlike some people – I choose to look respectable at breakfast.’

Although the tone was light hearted, looking briefly into Carlos’s eyes something told Sophie he was being serious. To Rosa however, the message had fallen on deaf ears. Her thoughts were already elsewhere. Picking up a nectarine, she went in search of her mother. Anxious to leave for Alvor and the beach house, she knew only too well she must wait until after she’d seen her Grandmother and Augustina.

‘You must not mind Grandmother,’ Rosa explained, only minutes before José Ramirez left to collect his mother-in-law for Sunday lunch. ‘She looks fierce, but is really very kind. It’s simply that she is old and has known great sadness in her life.’ Spying Sophie’s anxious face, Rosa placed a reassuring arm about her shoulders. ‘Oh dear! Have I frightened you? There’s no need to fear. You see, you will be sitting between my father and Carlos. They will look after you.’

Clutching nervously at her
porto
branco
aperitif, Sophie felt someone touch her elbow. ‘Rosa has asked me to look after you,’ Carlos whispered. ‘She tells me you find the prospect of meeting our grandmother daunting. Don’t be alarmed. Her bark is far worse than her bite. She also doesn’t speak a word of English.’

‘What do I do if she speaks to me?’

‘Just nod in all the right places!’ Carlos said, a wicked glint in his eye.

To Sophie’s relief, lunch wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d anticipated. Maria-Clara appeared far too preoccupied with her only granddaughter to take any notice of her friend. Only occasionally did she look in Sophie’s direction, and smile. At such times, taking heed of Carlos’s advice, Sophie nodded and gave a shy smile in return.

‘That wasn’t such an ordeal, was it?’ he enquired, when the family left the table and drifted into the sitting room.

‘I suppose not. At least your grandmother acknowledged me. Augustina didn’t look at all friendly.’

‘That’s because she’s forgotten how to smile.’

Looking up into those deep blue eyes, Sophie realized Carlos was only teasing. She was about to reply when she sensed she was being watched.

‘My mother is very concerned for you, Sophie,’ Elisabete Ramirez, began, ‘She says with your fair skin you must take care in the sun. You must keep yourself covered.’

Fixing Maria-Clara with a grateful smile, Sophie asked Elisabete to explain she had every intention of heeding the old lady’s advice. She knew from bitter experience how unwise it was to spend too long in the sun. Nodding approvingly, Maria-Clara and her dour-faced companion prepared to leave. Saying her goodbyes, Augustina also had something to impart. This time it was Carlos who translated.

‘Augustina says, if you do burn, you are to ask for her special cream.’

‘Special cream?’

‘One of Augustina’s magic potions. I’ve no idea what she puts in them – frogs and toads, I expect – but they always seem to work. Perhaps that’s why she’s lived so long?’

‘I wasn’t expecting her to be quite so old,’ Sophie said, lowering her voice. ‘In England when Rosa kept talking about Augustina, I always imagined someone younger.’

‘Fussing over Rosa since she was a baby is possibly what’s kept Augustina young in spirit. Such a pity Rosa doesn’t have that same effect on me,’ Carlos added, ruefully.

It was these words Sophie considered when the family departed for a siesta – Maria-Clara and her companion to their quiet apartment only five minutes’ drive away, Elisabete and José Ramirez to their king-sized bed, Rosa back in the comfortable surroundings of her pink and white bedroom and Sophie in the guest suite. But where was Carlos, she pondered, remembering how attentive he’d been all through lunch, not only to herself, but also to Rosa. Assuming Carlos to be resting elsewhere, Sophie closed her eyes with a murmured ‘I wonder if Augustina had a potion for curing love-sickness.’

An hour later when she woke, she was saddened to discover Carlos had already left for Lisbon.

‘Carlos said to say goodbye,’ Rosa shouted from the terrace. ‘He insists if we go to Lisbon, we must ring his office. He will take us to lunch. If that can’t be arranged, he hopes to join us at Alvor next weekend.’

‘Alvor?’

‘The beach house. My mother has agreed to let me borrow her car. We can go as soon as we like after breakfast tomorrow.

‘Won’t your mother be needing her car?’

‘No. She plans to spend the week in Lisbon with Father, finalizing plans for Grandmother’s eighty-fifth birthday and my engagement party.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Sophie. ‘I’d forgotten your engagement.’
Liar
! A voice echoed in her head, as she watched Rosa propel herself nonchalantly in the swinging hammock.

‘Of course, it is not the proper engagement party,’ Rosa explained, playing with the deep cotton fringe of a floral-patterned cushion. ‘That will be later, on my nineteenth birthday, when Cristovao is home and my parents’ friends are back from their summer holidays.’ Sensing Sophie’s confusion, Rosa stopped swinging and sat up.

‘Grandmother is
very
superstitious. Because my father is fifty and Carlos is thirty five, she thinks she should announce my engagement on her eighty-fifth birthday. Thirty-five and fifty added together make eighty-five, don’t they?’

‘Yes. But I fail to see the connection.’

‘Augustina reads the cards.’

‘You mean she tells fortunes?’

‘Something like that,’ Rosa said, flicking her long, glossy hair away from her face. ‘One day she tell my Grandmother eighty-five is a special number. And if I am not betrothed by the time she is eighty five, she will not see me marry Carlos.’

‘Your grandmother actually believed her?’

‘Exactly,’ Rosa said, setting the hammock in motion again.

Rising slowly from her chair Sophie headed towards the welcome shade of a pergola completely engulfed by pink and purple bougainvillaea. Reaching up she let her hands drift through the paper-thin blossoms, causing petals to fall like confetti and settle in her hair. Earlier today, Maria-Clara had advised against sitting in the sun. She’d certainly heeded that advice – or so she thought. Now she wasn’t so sure. With Carlos and Rosa referring to magic potions, with subsequent dire warnings, she began to have her doubts. Confused, she brushed away stray petals from her face and shoulders. Perhaps she was already suffering from sunstroke?

Early next morning, Sophie and Rosa headed in the direction of Alvor. Dismissing all thoughts of Maria-Clara and Augustina from her mind, Sophie unwound the car window and breathed in the balmy salt-laced air. It was another beautiful day, and she was at peace. Sometime during the past twenty-four hours, she’d convinced herself she was perfectly capable of dealing with the Carlos/Rosa relationship. You’ve simply been reading too many romantic novels, she’d reproached herself, while preparing to leave. Of course you found yourself deeply attracted to Carlos; who wouldn’t be, following your disastrous engagement to Gavin? No, Sophie, you were simply in love with love – or at least the mere idea of it. Deciding she mustn’t let thoughts of Gavin spoil her holiday, Sophie turned her attention to Rosa and the surrounding countryside.

‘This scenery is simply breathtaking.’

Rosa flashed a satisfied smile in her direction. ‘Now you know why I wanted you come. On our right are the Serra do Caldeirao Mountains and in that direction is Loulé – a very famous market town, where I must take you. First, I insist you see our beach house. It is there. Across the bay.’

‘That is a beach house!’

‘
Sim
,’ Rosa grinned, proudly. ‘I think it is a very grand beach house.’

‘It certainly is, when you consider English beach houses. Ours are merely huts, with barely enough room for a couple of deck chairs and a camping stove!’

Looking across the sheltered sandy bay to ‘
Casa
Maria
-
Clara’
, Sophie gazed in wonderment at the pretty white beach house with its pink pantiled roof. ‘How do we get there? It looks as if it’s built on an island.’

‘That is why Grandfather bought it. It was a wedding present for Grandmother. It isn’t an island, but many people do not know that, which is good. So it is
very
private. If you look carefully, you will see a narrow road to the left of those two trees. We will park the car there before taking the path to the bottom of the hill.’

Thinking of the frail Maria-Clara and her companion, Sophie enquired. ‘Surely your grandmother and Augustina can’t possibly cope with such a steep path?’

‘Not now. It is far too difficult for Grandmother to manage. But over there beyond the trees, where the ground is level, you will see two smaller buildings.’

Shading her eyes against the sun Sophie picked out two sugar-almond-coloured bungalows, half hidden by trees and swathed in bougainvillaea and hibiscus.

‘Grandmother and Augustina stay there,’ Rosa said. ‘They are on the left, Bernado and Filomena are on the right.’

‘Bernado and Filomena?’

‘
Sim
. Bernado is Augustina’s nephew, and Filomena is his wife. When we are not here, they look after everything. That is why, despite the climate, the garden at Casa Maria-Clara always looks so beautiful. Bernado is a very keen gardener.’

Parking the car, Rosa tooted the horn and in a matter of minutes two people came scurrying down the path towards them.

‘
Ola
!
como
esta
.’ The curly haired Bernado called in greeting, his gleaming white teeth flashing in a leathery, tanned face.

Filomena, Sophie noticed, stood shyly by her husband’s side. Pretty and slim she waited for Rosa to announce her guest. Introductions completed, Bernado hurried to the car to collect the luggage. Filomena meanwhile, moved gracefully through Casa Maria-Clara, drawing back blinds and shutters and opening windows.

‘Here, you will again have the guest suite,’ Rosa directed. ‘In fact, this is the annexe, which is mostly used by Carlos and Cristovao. When they are staying here with friends, it means Bernado and Filomena don’t have to open up the rest of the house.’

‘This is simply amazing.’ Sophie whispered, walking from room to room, where she took a mental note of the sitting room, kitchen, two bedrooms and shower room. This
annexe
was even bigger than her flat back at Victoria Villas!