When Summer Fades (29 page)

*

Not
a
great
deal
happening
in
Beckford
could also describe events leading up to Christmas, other than a few furtive phone calls between Callie and Edna and equally mysterious conversations between Edna and her special autumn guest.

On Christmas Eve, Monty paced the bedroom floor, his face etched deep with worry. ‘I still don’t think what we’re doing is right. Perhaps we should tell Sophie first?’

‘Definitely not! You take it from me Monty, if we did, she certainly wouldn't come! You know Sophie. She’s as stubborn as her father.’

‘Well…’ Monty drawled. ‘On your own head be it.’

‘It’s a Christmas present with a difference,’ Edna explained, next morning, watching Sophie slit open the bright red envelope, decorated with sprigs of holly and mistletoe.

‘I’ve already had my Christmas present. You paid for my new bathroom suite.’

‘That wasn’t a present – that was necessity,’ Monty corrected. ‘That old bath at Coniston Avenue was beginning to look a bit grim. Now Nicholas is getting bigger and likes to splash around, he’ll have more space to play with his ducks.’

To Sophie’s surprise the envelope contained nothing more than a crayoned picture of a bright yellow sun with the word ‘DAYS’ and a large question mark underneath. ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand,’ she said, turning blankly in Monty and Edna’s direction.

‘I knew you wouldn’t. So let me explain…’

In silence Sophie listened to Edna describe how they planned to visit Portugal for some winter sunshine, while at the same time make tentative enquiries with regard to purchasing a retirement villa in the Algarve.

‘As you know Monty’s chest has been troubling him again,’ she continued. ‘Even our nice new doctor – Doctor Martin said it would be a good idea.’

Sophie winced. Why was it that any one ‘
nice
’ had the surname ‘Martin’ in some form or other? Even Monty and Edna’s special autumn guest – the one who was also ‘
really
nice
’ and Aunt Edna was forever talking about, had a similar sounding Christian name.

‘You mean you might go for good?’ she faltered, hardly daring to think of life without them.

‘Probably not at first. Which is why we’d like you to come with us. To give us your advice and test the water so to speak.’

‘But I’ve not long started back at work which means I’m hardly entitled to more than a few days’ holiday at the moment.’

‘Exactly,’ Edna said, brightly. ‘Which is why I put the question mark after the word days. You can come when you like. Either fly out with us or come out later, if you prefer? Of course we’ll meet you at the airport.’

Seeing the look of concern on Sophie’s face, Monty asked. ‘Is there a problem dear? It won’t cost anything you know.’

‘Perhaps not financially. Emotionally however, that’s quite a different matter. You do realise you’re asking me to go back to Portugal where—’

‘Where Nicholas’s father lives?’ Monty finished for her.

Sophie nodded in reply, lifting Nicholas onto her knee as if for safekeeping.

‘Portugal’s a big country, Sophie. Carlos lives and works in Lisbon, doesn’t he? It’s highly unlikely he’ll be in the same place as us. I thought the family only went to the Algarve for their summer holidays.’

‘And numerous weekends throughout the year,’ Sophie said, reminded of one such weekend. The result of which was sitting on her lap!

Giving Sophie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, Monty rose from his chair anxious to change the subject. It was Christmas Day for goodness’ sake! The last thing he wanted was to upset his niece. As for Edna, he recognised only too well the look of abject disapproval on her face. Thank goodness Sophie was too busy playing with Nicholas to notice. More determined than last night, Monty paused by the door.

‘If Sophie’s not happy with the idea,’ he said, directing his comment at his wife, ‘then, I suggest she forgets all about it. In the meantime I’m going to open the wine for lunch. Edna … hadn’t you better baste the turkey?’

When Nicholas sneezed three times in a row, Sophie wiped his nose, cradled him in her arms and gazed long and hard into his deep, navy blue eyes. ‘Oh dear! What shall we do Nicholas? I know they mean well and you’ve had such a dreadful cold. I’ll even admit we could both do with a few days of winter sunshine. As for going to Portugal…’

Knowing full well Nicholas was far too young to understand what she was saying, Sophie was amazed to hear him emit a series of gurgling, baby noises that – somehow – all seemed to sound like ‘da-da, da-da.’

Chapter 18

Walking up to the check-in desk at Heathrow, Sophie turned to Callie, her face full of misgivings. ‘I’m still convinced I’m doing the wrong thing.’

‘Course you’re not,’ Callie said. ‘Didn’t we agree it’s far better to fly out in the evening? It will be dark when you arrive. You can put Nicholas straight to bed, and he won’t even notice he’s in strange surroundings.’

‘That not what I meant Callie, and well you know it!’

‘You can’t
still
be worried about bumping into Carlos at the airport? I’ve already told that you won’t.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ Sophie demanded, watching her luggage disappear on the conveyor belt.

‘Believe me I can.
Mystic
Murphy
here is even prepared to wager a bet on it.’

Marginally comforted Sophie prepared to say goodbye. ‘Hmph! Well, just in case you’re wrong,’ she added, as an afterthought, ‘I’m warning you now, I shall get the next flight home and…’

‘And take it from me Carlos
won’t
be there,’ Callie was heard to mutter, making her way back to the car with Patrick.

She slumped wearily into the front passenger seat. ‘Jesus! That was hard work. For one terrifying moment, I was convinced she was going to change her mind.’

Patrick switched on the ignition. ‘Me too. Quite how long Sophie stays out there is anybody’s guess. There’ll certainly be some sparks flying when she sees Carlos.’

‘Which reminds me,’ Callie said, ‘I must ring him the moment we’re home. I don’t want him changing
his
mind, either!’

To Sophie’s relief, the only faces she recognised at Faro airport belonged to Monty and Edna.

‘How was the flight?’ Monty enquired, taking charge of her luggage.

‘Fine. Nicholas cried at a bit at first, possibly because of his ears. The rest of the time he was as good as gold. All the stewardesses fell in love with his navy-blue eyes.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ Edna said, suppressing a knowing smile when Nicholas’s eyes began to close. ‘I’d say that young man is ready for bed.’

‘That makes two of us,’ Sophie yawned, stroking her fingers through Nicholas’s dark hair.

Forty-eight hours later, listening to Sophie singing
I’m
Gonna
Wash
That
Man
Right
Out
Of
My
Hair
, as she dried herself after a shower, Edna raised concerned eyebrows. Perhaps watching satellite television hadn’t been such a good idea after all, particularly as they’d been showing
South
Pacific
.

‘Well, what do you think?’ she asked, facing Monty across the breakfast table.

‘You already know my opinion without asking. I think you and
Martina
are playing a very dangerous game.’

Edna shrugged her shoulders in despair. ‘We’re running out of time Monty. Sophie will be going back soon. I thought today we could—’

‘Today we could what?’ Sophie asked, bending down to kiss them both.

‘Er – perhaps go and have a look at those villas I was telling you about? Your uncle and I would really value your opinion.’

Unaware of furtive glances being exchanged, Sophie poured herself some orange juice. ‘They sound very nice; I was very impressed with the brochures. We could walk there, couldn’t we, if it is the development I saw from my bedroom window?’

Monty hesitated, deeply troubled, ‘Not exactly. They’re a little bit further away than that. We’ll have to go in the car and – er – Martina was wondering if we’d like to call in and join her for an aperitif.’

‘Martina?’ Sophie queried, when Monty hurriedly disappeared to search for his car keys.

Equally flustered, Edna replied. ‘The lady who stayed with us last year. Don’t you remember?’

Much to Edna’s relief, Sophie, who was busily engaged giving Nicholas his breakfast, replied. ‘Oh, yes. The Spanish lady who turned out not to be Spanish, but Portuguese. What a coincidence she should know this part of the Algarve. And wasn’t it kind of her to send you the property details?’

Doing her best to occupy Sophie’s attention by talking non-stop
en
-
route
to the select development, Edna braced herself when she heard Sophie declare. ‘I’m convinced I recognise this road. Perhaps I came along here with Rosa or...’

The word Carlos died on Sophie’s lips as, rounding a bend in the road, she gave a tiny gasp. Monty, meanwhile, gripped the steering wheel tighter, waiting for a verbal explosion. When none came, he continued to drive, more cautiously.

‘Anything wrong?’ Edna queried.

‘No. It’s just that villa – the one on the hill. They were in the process of building that when ... when I was here. Now that it’s finished, it’s even more beautiful than I imagined. Sophie smiled, playfully, ‘I don’t suppose Martina sent you details of that one, did she?’

‘No,’ Monty broke in, desperate to help his wife out of a very sticky situation. ‘As you can see, it’s not for sale. We’re heading in the opposite direction.’

Following Monty’s gaze to a newly constructed villa complex, Sophie nodded in approval. ‘Mmm. Size-wise, I’d say those are just about perfect.’

‘We’d be near the sea and shops,’ Edna explained, once more in control. ‘And there’s also a bus at the corner, for when Monty decides he doesn’t want to drive any more. Not forgetting the pharmacy and the hospital.’

Lifting Nicholas from the car and sitting him in his buggy, Sophie breathed in the almond-scented air. ‘It sounds as if you’ve already thought of everything and probably don’t need me after all. I have to say, I’m very impressed. You’ve obviously been busy doing your homework since you arrived.’

‘We certainly have!’ Monty said, flustered, locking the car door.

Having completed the tour of show homes, Sophie sat on a wall and gazed out to sea. She looked down at her wrist, where the leather strap from her watch was beginning to show signs of wear. ‘Just like me,’ she sighed, closing her eyes. ‘I hadn’t realised going back to work would be so exhausting.’

‘Penny for them?’ Monty said, softly.

‘I was just telling Nicholas his mother’s beginning to show signs of wear, like my watch strap.’

‘Nonsense! You’re still as lovely as ever. If you don’t mind my saying so, you’ve even blossomed since you had Nicholas.’

‘Speaking of blossom,’ Edna said, coming alongside them, ‘shall we go and see Martina’s? I’m sure she said there was a small almond orchard at the bottom of her son’s garden.’

Sophie stood up. ‘That’s okay by me. Where do they live?’

Edna gestured wildly to the hill behind them. ‘Somewhere up there, I believe.’

‘Aunt Edna! My father always said you had a terrible sense of direction. “Up there” could mean anywhere!’

‘Then we’ll have to ask someone the way. As it’s such a nice day, and not too hot, I suggest we leave the car here and walk.’

‘Good idea!’ Sophie said, walking on ahead with Nicholas in his buggy. ‘And you’ll have to someone the way, because my Portuguese is practically non-existent.’

When Edna stopped to speak to an old man with skin the texture and colour of a walnut, Sophie couldn’t believe her eyes. She was convinced he was pointing in the direction of what she’d always referred to as ‘that villa’, the one Callie had described as
extremely
moreish
.

‘You mean Martina lives there!’ she gasped, approaching impressive wrought iron gates.

‘Not exactly. She – er – only stays there occasionally. It belongs to her son. Martina’s been helping him get the place ready.’

‘Ready for what?’

Edna turned to her husband, her eyes pleading.
Now
what should she say?

Monty coughed and mopped his brow with his handkerchief. They were getting into very deep water. ‘I understand Martina’s son wanted a couple of the rooms altered for his wife and baby. They’re – er – expected anytime.’

Bringing the buggy to a halt, Sophie looked down at her shorts, T-shirt and espadrilles, and then at the magnificent villa in front of her. Had her mother been alive she would have been horror-struck. She was hardly dressed for meeting
polite
company
.

‘Then … should we really be here? We might be intruding.’

Before Sophie had a chance to change her mind about staying, she spied an elegantly dressed woman, her eyes shielded by designer sunglasses, hurrying down the path towards them.

‘Monty! Edna!’ she called, delighted to see them both. ‘And this must be Sophie and baby Nicholas! I’m so glad you came. I’ve heard so much about you both. Did you have any trouble finding Casa So—?’

‘Not much,’ Monty broke in abruptly, and completely out of character, he then grabbed hold of Martina and kissed her on both cheeks.

Edna, who was standing directly in front of Sophie, breathed a deep sigh of relief. Fortunately, for all their sakes Sophie hadn’t noticed Martina’s slip of the tongue or her uncle’s peculiar behaviour. Nicholas had chosen that very moment to gurgle happily and reach for a bamboo wind chime blowing in the midday breeze.

Sitting on the terrace with their aperitifs, Martina left them only briefly to answer the telephone. When she returned, smiling, she motioned to the far end of the garden.

‘Have you seen the almond blossom, Sophie? Of course it’s only a small orchard but the perfume is quite heavenly. Why don’t you take a walk and see for yourself?’ Looking round, expecting her aunt and uncle to follow, Sophie expressed surprise when they declined.

‘No, you go dear,’ Edna said, ‘Martina thinks the ground might be a bit uneven in places for my arthritic knees. Monty and I will stay here and keep an eye on Nicholas. We don’t want him falling over and hurting himself, do we?’

Puzzled, Sophie walked away. Nicholas wasn’t even a year old so wasn’t yet into walking. Until now, apart from the occasional unsuccessful attempt at a few steps, he was far happier crawling. Deciding that Edna and Martina were probably correct, the rough terrain of the almond orchard was definitely unsuited to both a baby’s teetering steps, Edna’s knees and the buggy, Sophie picked her way beneath twisted boughs heavily laden with white, snowy blossom.

Lost in thought, drinking in the heady perfume, she sat down on a grassy bank where the busy hum of honey bees mingled with distant voices, echoing from the terrace. Only occasionally was the sweet, almond-laced air, punctuated by the sound of Nicholas’s delightful gurgling, and the sound of an approaching car.

‘I’m so lucky that you’re such a happy child,’ she whispered, turning to look in her son’s direction, momentarily surprised to see another figure step from the shadows of the villa. ‘When I think how differently things could have…’

The words ‘turned out’ stuck in Sophie’s throat and she suddenly felt sick. The person standing by Edna’s side was smiling broadly. Not only that, but he was also reaching out to take Nicholas from her Aunt’s grasp. It was Carlos, and he was taking her son!

‘
No
!’ she screamed, running frantically in the direction of the villa, only to fall and gash her knee on a sharp stone, which was protruding from the uneven turf. Slightly dazed, she pulled herself to her feet and carried on running. With a desperate leap, Sophie wrenched Nicholas from his father’s arms and, clasping the frightened child to her breast, turned to face four anxious pairs of eyes. ‘How dare you! How dare you try and take my child away!’ she cried.

‘Sophie,’ Carlos replied, in a low, calm voice, walking towards her. ‘Please listen. You don’t understand. There’s been a terrible mistake.’

‘Too right there has, and I made it!’ she snapped, flashing accusing eyes at Monty and Edna. ‘How could you do this to me? Do you realise what you’ve done? You’ve
betrayed
me! Uncle Monty was it you who...?’

‘No. It wasn’t Monty’s idea,’ Edna confessed, hurriedly. ‘Your uncle wanted nothing to do with it, Sophie. It was
my
idea. Mine and Martina’s – I mean Helena. Even Callie thought…’

‘
Callie
!’ Sophie cried, mortified, even more convinced that her whole world was falling apart. ‘Callie’s in on this too? Why, that’s utterly despicable! When I think...’

‘I think your leg needs seeing to,’ Carlos interrupted, his voice full of concern. ‘It looks as if it’s bleeding pretty badly.’

‘Don’t try and change the subject! I’m a nurse – or had you forgotten? I’m quite capable of dealing with a simple cut. Oh!’ Sophie looked down to where blood was oozing from her badly gashed knee. She felt suddenly faint. ‘Um … er … perhaps it
does
need stitching,’ she conceded, weakly.

‘Why not let Carlos take you to the hospital?’

This time it was Martina’s voice that broke the silence. Or
was
it Martina? Sophie pondered, trying to ignore the painful throbbing in her knee. Moments ago, hadn’t Edna called her
Helena
? Warning bells rang in Sophie’s head. The woman from the Lisbon boutique! She’d glimpsed her only briefly. How could she have been so blind? Particularly as Carlos had said he shared his mother's looks. No wonder Martina (or should that be Helena Martins? Sophie thought angrily) had cunningly concealed her own navy-blue eyes behind tinted designer glasses!