When Summer Fades (12 page)

‘Don’t forget the balcony,’ Rosa called, flinging louvre doors aside. ‘If you look down there, you’ll see you even have your own path leading to the beach.’

‘Oh dear! I understand now.’

‘You understand what Sophie?’

‘Why Carlos was so angry.’

‘When was Carlos angry?’

‘When he first came to Victoria Villas and found you staying at my flat. Oh, Rosa! What made you decide to stay with me, when you could have chosen to—’

‘Because I liked you, and you were very kind to me.’

Touched by Rosa’s honesty and consumed with guilt at the earlier romantic notions she’d had about Carlos, Sophie felt tears prick her eyelids. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Just say you will enjoy your stay at Casa Maria-Clara.’

‘Oh, I will,’ Sophie said, dabbing at her eyes. ‘Yes, Rosa. You have my word. I’ll

get up early every morning and go for a swim and—’

Rosa gave one of her delightful laughs. ‘As long as you don’t expect me to go with you. I hate getting up in the morning, which is why I thought you’d prefer the annexe. As you know, I much prefer the nightlife. That reminds me. Now that I’m here I must ring all my friends and arrange a party at the club.’

‘Then I’ll beg to be excused,’ Sophie pleaded.

*

Stretching contentedly, Sophie opened her eyes, momentarily confused by her surroundings. It took only a few moments to register she was at the beach house and not the Ramirez family villa. Filled with renewed optimism, she leapt from the bed, threw back the shutters, and opening the balcony door gasped with delight. The view from Victoria Villas was never like this!

With everywhere bathed in early-morning sunshine, Sophie rapidly took in the narrow, winding path through the trees to the beach. It was
so
beautiful. No, not just beautiful, she told herself. It was more breathtaking and mystical – like something from a fairy tale. Had Augustina and her magic spells been at work here already?

With a smile, Sophie slipped out of her nightie and reached for her swimming costume and pareo. It was as much as she could do to stop herself from singing. Reminded that Rosa was still asleep, and wondering how anyone could possibly stay in bed on such a day, she tiptoed from the annexe in the direction of the beach. What could be more perfect, she asked herself. On her right was a sweeping curve of golden, sandy beach, and on her left a vast expanse of turquoise sea, dotted with sunshine stars and tiny fishing boats, bobbing their way back into Alvor harbour.

Secretly pleased that she’d been given a room in the annexe, and that Rosa always slept like the proverbial log, Sophie left her pareo and sandals on the deserted seashore, and stepped into the water. Much as she enjoyed Rosa’s company it was good to be alone for once. As for partying and clubbing, she concluded, launching herself into an energetic breast stroke, for the moment she’d prefer to leave that to Rosa and her young friends.

Refreshed from an invigorating swim, Sophie combed her wet hair back from her face and made her way slowly back to the beach house. If there was such a thing as heaven then this must be it. She sighed, looking up in the direction of Casa Maria-Clara.

The magic was suddenly broken. Rosa was not only up, she was also on the phone. Standing on the balcony, the phone pressed against her ear, Rosa turned and waved.

‘That was Carlos,’ she announced, moments later. ‘He was hoping to spend the weekend here but now has to attend an important meeting on Saturday. It is most annoying! Can you believe someone from the Milan office is flying over on Friday evening? Perhaps we can go to Lisbon instead? I can visit some of my old school friends and later we—’

‘We?’

‘You and me. Carlos says he will take us to lunch on Friday. We can spend the night at my parents’ apartment, and travel back to Alvor with Carlos on Sunday. He says after such a hectic week of dealing with problems in the Milan office, even twenty-four hours at Casa Maria-Clara will soothe his jagged nerves.’

Finding it hard to think of Carlos with jagged nerves, apart from the never-to-be- forgotten moment when he’d discovered Rosa at Victoria Villas, Sophie said, ‘Rosa, why don’t I stay here? You and Carlos can have lunch on your own. And while he is in his meeting on Saturday, why not arrange to see some of your friends?’

‘But I want you to come!’ Rosa insisted, stamping her foot. ‘In the meantime however, we must go to Loulé and buy you a hat.’

‘Not today surely? I feel as if we’ve only just got here. Besides I already have a hat. I've been borrowing one of yours.’

‘Hmph! That old thing! You need a proper hat. At Loulé they have
esparto
, which is a grass the locals weave into baskets and hats. I shall buy you one with a with a lovely wide brim…’

*

‘You see,’ Rosa announced triumphant, two days later when they sat drinking coffee near the museum. ‘The new hat is simply perfect for you.’

‘I’m not sure. It feels enormous.’

‘It needs to be if it is to protect your neck and shoulders from the sun. Your skin is
so
pale. Will you ever go brown?’

‘Sorry to disappoint you Rosa. As I’ve already told you, it takes me ages to get a sun tan. I usually go a bright shade of pink, similar to that disgusting lobster-coloured nail polish you wore in Beckford.’

Giving a mischievous grin, Rosa examined lime green fingernails painted to match her lime-green T-shirt and shorts.

‘And you’d better not let your grandmother see those,’ Sophie teased. ‘Otherwise
I
shall get the blame.’

Only too aware of the midday sun, which was already generating an intense heat, Sophie finished her coffee and followed Rosa on a whistle stop tour of the ruined monastery, the castle and museum. Relieved that at least the interior of the museum was cool, and that their next port of call (Loulé’s gothic church) would be even cooler, she paused to get her breath back. Rosa, she soon discovered, had other ideas.

‘Now you have seen everything, and you have your hat, we can go back to Alvor.’

‘Back?’ Sophie puzzled, looking down at the picture in her guide book, ‘I thought we were going to the church?’

‘
Sim
– but I change my mind. Churches are boring. They are only good for weddings. If we leave now, we will be home in time for a siesta. Unlike you, I’m not used to getting up early. Perhaps we can also ask Filomena to prepare us something special for dinner this evening.’

Hiding her disappointment – she’d so wanted to see the church – Sophie was in for further disappointment when they reached the car. Unlike Carlos’s exquisite C70, Elisabete’s car did not have the luxury of leather upholstery and air-conditioning. Slowly easing herself into the furnace hot interior, where black vinyl upholstery stuck immediately to her back and legs, Sophie felt distinctly uncomfortable. ‘Definitely not a good idea to wear a backless T-shirt with my shorts,’ she murmured.

‘But you’ll never get brown if you keep yourself covered up,’ Rosa said, reaching into the rear of the car. ‘Why don’t we put the pareos across the seats like this? Perhaps that will help keep us cool?’

Watching Rosa drape her exotically patterned pareo across the driver’s seat, Sophie followed suit. Made with three yards of inexpensive cotton fabric purchased on Beckford market, her own attempt at a pareo was far less glamorous. Luckily, the effect was just the same. Draped across the two front seats they would offer some relief from the searing heat and anyway – as Rosa kept reminding her – it wouldn’t be too long before they were back in the cool of their shuttered bedrooms at Casa Maria-Clara.

‘Sophie ... I think we have a problem.’

‘You mean there’s something wrong with the car?’

‘Not exactly, I think perhaps we have run out of petrol. I – er – forgot to fill the car before we left.’

When the car ground slowly to a halt, Sophie looked about her. There didn’t appear to be a petrol station for miles.

‘Don’t worry. I have a map,’ Rosa announced, unperturbed, reaching into the glove compartment. ‘Look, here is Loulé and there is Albufeira, all we have to do is walk to the nearest petrol station and buy a can of petrol. It won’t take long.’

The words ‘won’t take long’ reverberated in Sophie’s head as the early afternoon sun beat down upon her back. Trudging the long dusty road, she discovered to her cost, Rosa was no great map-reader!

Several hours later, eventually making their way back to the beach house, Rosa was deeply apologetic. ‘I’m
so
sorry Sophie. If only I hadn’t suggested we leave the pareos in the car.’

Examining her badly burnt back, arms and legs, Sophie flinched and dabbed on after-sun lotion. In hindsight, it would have been far more preferable to return to a hot car seat than suffer excruciating sunburn. Thank goodness she’d worn her hat. The rest of her was lobster coloured.

*

‘Yes, we’re fine and having a great time, and still coming to Lisbon tomorrow,’ Rosa told Carlos, when he phoned. Sophie gesticulated wildly and shook her head. ‘Although … Sophie says she won’t be joining us for lunch. She’ll visit a museum instead. I’ll see if I can twist her arm and make her change her mind.’

Though meant only in fun, the very thought of anyone touching her arm filled Sophie with dread. By the time she went to bed she was in agony; waking early next morning she was even worse.

‘It’s no good Rosa,’ she said, struggling to sit down for breakfast, ‘I’ll never cope with the journey to Lisbon. I’m only OK standing – or else lying flat on my stomach.’

‘And it’s all my fault, if only I hadn’t forgotten the petrol!’

‘Then you’d better make sure you have enough to get you to Lisbon. Now off you go, or you’ll be late for your lunch date with Carlos. Don’t forget to give my regards to the family.’

‘But I feel dreadful leaving you like this. Perhaps I should stay and—’

‘Rosa!’ Sophie cried, suddenly desperate to be alone. ‘Believe me, there’s nothing you can do. Fortunately, I did bring some calamine lotion with me – just in case.’

As if to reassure her, Sophie held up the bottle. ‘Of course I realize it will make me look like a zombie. However, I promise to keep out of sight and not to frighten the locals. Nor will I spoil those wonderful clean sheets Filomena brings over every other day. I’ll be sure to wash it all off before I go to bed. I also want to finish the book Callie gave me.’ Pausing for breath, Sophie forced a smile. ‘Now, have I convinced you I shall be perfectly happy on my own?’

‘Well, yes, perhaps.’ Rosa said, reaching out to clasp Sophie’s shoulders, ready to kiss her on both cheeks.

‘Don’t touch me!’ Sophie cried, grimacing. ‘Just go Rosa. Please.’

Backing away nervously, Rosa hesitated, her eyes pleading. ‘There must be something I can do?’

‘I’m afraid not, although I appreciate your concern and I’m really sorry I snapped at you. Believe me, I know only too well from bitter experience, that it’s simply a question of time.’

*

By early afternoon, it was also a question of time that concerned Carlos. He was still waiting for Rosa to join him for lunch. Ringing Casa Maria-Clara and getting no reply, he assumed Rosa and Sophie must have left for Lisbon. To make doubly sure, he rang Bernado. Yes, Bernado told him, he was sure the girls had left. He’d seen the car disappearing very early that morning when he’d arrived to water the geraniums.

‘
Um
momento
, Carlos,’ Bernado said, spying his wife returning with a basket of linen. ‘I’ll check with Filomena, I’m sure she said the house was empty and all shut up.’

It was only later, a startled Filomena discovered Sophie returning from a swim. Poor Filomena, Sophie thought, as she threw her hat on the bed, edged the pareo from her shoulders and slipped out of her ankle-length cotton dress. Seeing me swathed from head to foot like an Egyptian mummy, I must have given her quite a fright.

Making comparisons with her sunburnt skin and the bowl of tomatoes she planned to use in a salad for lunch, Sophie gave a wistful smile. Calomine in hand, she called to her reflection in the hall mirror.

‘Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the ripest of them all, me or the tomatoes?’

*

Angrily pacing his office floor, Carlos studied the mounting pile of messages.

‘Didn’t Rosa say why she cancelled lunch?’

‘No,’ his secretary replied. ‘She said she’d explain this evening. She plans to call by at your apartment.’

‘I won’t be there this evening! Mario’s flying in from Milan for tomorrow’s meeting. I’ve arranged to collect him from the airport. Surely you hadn’t forgotten?’

Apologizing for her uncommon lapse of memory, Carlos’s secretary refrained from explaining why she’d forgotten her boss’s plans. Quite simply she’d had great difficulty understanding Rosa’s garbled message. In the first place, Rosa appeared to have been phoning from a cattle market, and in the second, every time she’d tried to deliver her message, a chorus of male voices had begun cheering loudly in the background. Deciding this wasn’t what her fractious boss wanted to hear, Carlos’s secretary had opted for diplomacy instead.