One-man Woman

by Jessica Ayre

  CHAPTER SIX

  The sound of a door closing startled Jennie from a light sleep.

  'Oh, I'm sorry, Jen,' said Kathy. 'Did I wake you? I just came back to get dressed for dinner. God, that setting sun out there is heavenly!'

  Jennie wiped the sleep from her eyes and moved to open the shutters on to the terrace. A bright globe within hand reach suffused the sea, the room, everything with a rosy golden light. She gazed out at the spectacle and breathed in the salt-scented air. After all, it was good to be alive. She glanced at her watch and noticed the lateness of the hour.

  'I'd better start getting dressed too. Do you want a shower first, Kathy?'

  Kathy shook her mop of straw-coloured curls. 'Had one while you were out. It is super here, isn't it? I even dared a dip in the pool—lovely!'

  'So was the sea,' said Jennie, deliberately avoiding all mention of her misadventure. Best really to wipe that from her mind.

  'And you're beginning to tan.' Kathy flicked on a light to examine Jennie by. 'Lucky you! Not all this freckly pinkness,' she looked at herself disparagingly in the mirror. 'Still, on with some clothes.'

  Jennie took her robe into the bathroom with its pretty ochre and white tiles, stripped herself bare and gazed at her reflection. Yes, she was beginning to tan: the bikini marks and the flushed glow of her face made that clear. She turned on the shower and stepped into the steady stream, soaping her hair and body thoroughly, feeling the salt prickle her skin where it had been made sensitive by the sun. Then she towelled herself gently dry and rubbed baby lotion all over herself. The touch of her hand on her skin brought back the memory of Derek's bolder caress. A wave of anger flooded over her. How dared he make her feel like some wanton second-rate hussy who would comply in keeping their dealings secret before the established partner, the wife, Daniela? And she wasn't his wife to boot. Rage swept over her and she pulled on her new clothes with unwonted ferocity. She had a good mind to tell Daniela about her cherished Derek. It would serve them both right. But she knew she wouldn't. And in any case, something told her that Daniela already knew.

  Jennie looked at herself in the ruffled pirate smock Daniela had chosen for her. It did suit her wonderfully well, and with the new colour in her cheeks, she looked quite at her best. She brushed her hair gleaming dry and, to celebrate Sicily, made up her eyes with tints of mauve and grey, and put on some pale lipstick.

  Kathy looked her over. 'Smashing! You look quite a new woman. The Mediterranean suits you.'

  'And you,' said Jennie, taking in Kathy's brightly-coloured print which would have looked garish in England, the blue of her eyes over the jolly freckles on her small nose. 'Perhaps you'll let me do a drawing of you tomorrow.'

  'Oh, would you, Jen? I can't wait!' She put her arm through Jennie's. 'Let's pretend we're two Italian women and flounce down to the bar together.'

  'Just let me get my new scarf. It may turn cool later.' Jennie draped the yards of bright fabric over her shoulders in loose imitation of what Daniela had done and the two girls left the room.

  The whole crew seemed already to be assembled in the bar, and Kathy and Jennie's arrival was greeted with playful wolf whistles and calls from all corners, 'Over here, signorine?' A quick glance round the room reassured Jennie that neither Derek nor Daniela were there, but in a far corner she could see Piero sitting with Matthew Tarn at a small table. She made her way towards them, greeting others on the way. Piero stood up politely as she approached. His satin-dark eyes were warm with approval.

  'The siesta has done you obvious good,' he said, beckoning her to sit in the armchair next to him. 'You look quite radiant.'

  Jennie smiled a little remotely and sat down. 'I hope you've had a chance to rest too.'

  'Rest?' Matthew intervened. 'I've had him running about all afternoon.' He laughed. 'But I'll leave him in your hands now, Jennie. You can soothe away his weariness.' He smiled at them both. 'Have a good evening.'

  'A drink, Jennie? Campari and soda, perhaps? It's nice in the heat and then we can stroll down to Cefalu for dinner. It's not too far to walk.'

  'Sounds wonderful. I'm only sorry it will be too dark to do some sightseeing. I remember reading that Cefalu has a beautiful old cathedral.'

  Piero chuckled. 'You've been doing your homework too well. If there's time tomorrow, I'll give you a formal tour. It'll be better in any case on Sunday when the church is full and everyone on their best behaviour.'

  'I could do with a little best behaviour,' Jennie mumbled, and then catching Piero's querying look, added warmly, 'I do hope you'll manage the time.'

  The bittersweet drink finished, they strolled out into the warm night air. Jennie was surprised at how quickly it had turned dark, but a crescent moon and stars cast a dim glow over the road. The stillness, after the sounds of the hotel, seemed acute. Yet after a moment, Jennie could make out a cacophony of insects, busy in the hedges and orchards that bordered the road. If she listened carefully, their noise became deafening.

  Piero seemed to read her thoughts. 'People always say the country is quiet, but I've never found it so.' He took her arm, gently guiding her along the side of the road, saying little until a bend brought all of Cefalu into their line of vision.

  The village, which seemed to be hewn out of stone, jutted out into the sea. Its lights played merrily over a small harbour crowded with fishing boats. As if from nowhere the sounds of voices, the barking of dogs, the revving of motorbikes echoed around them, growing out of the hush as if an invisible curtain which separated town from country had suddenly been lifted. Piero laughed, 'Everyone's out—it's Saturday night and warm. There's nothing like an Italian town for street life.'

  They made their way past a large square over which a church presided, down a narrow cobblestoned lane. In front of each house, people were sitting out on chairs, chatting, the woman sewing, the children playing noisily. One of the houses had a lantern hanging over its threshold and announced a trattoria.

  'This is the place Derek recommended. Best in town,' Piero explained. Jennie stiffened at the sound of the name. 'Cold?' Piero wound his arm round her shoulders and guided her into a softly-lit room already crowded with people. The walls were brightly decorated with figures of robust fishermen tangling with outlandish fish, all painted with a bold naive brush.

  Jennie laughed, 'It's lovely—I'd love to cut one out and take him home.'

  'I didn't know I was dining with a collector,' Piero grinned. 'If you're that way inclined, you'll want to take home half the island. It's dotted with naive painters not to mention wonderful ceramicists, woodworkers, the lot.'

  'I can't wait… though I imagine the only thing I'll manage to take home is a tan!'

  A small sturdy waiter showed them to a table in an arched alcove and brought them two menus painted with figures resembling those on the walls.

  'Perhaps I'll settle for one of these as a souvenir,' Jennie smiled, and set herself to deciphering the Italian menu.

  'Would you like to try some calamari?' Piero asked. 'Not terribly English, but excellent here.'

  'I'll try anything once.'

  Piero winked at her, 'Bold lady! And very pretty too.' He examined her critically. 'Funny how you seem more relaxed here, more approachable than I've ever seen you in London. On the set you always wore an invisible hands off sign.'

  Jennie flushed. 'It must be the weather,' she mumbled.

  He eyed her quizzically for a moment and noting her embarrassment only said softly, 'Well, I'm glad it's gone.'

  'I think I am too.' Jennie murmured, fingering the soft material of her shirt.

  Piero gave their order to the waiter who had now approached their table. But his attention strayed from them as the clamour in the room suddenly gave way to an expectant hush, and Jennie looked up from her menu to see Daniela striding towards them, looking every inch the star she was in a silky black off-the-shoulder dress. She trailed a rainbow-coloured shawl indolently behind her, like some southern Garbo. All eyes in the room were
on her and she played dramatically to the crowd, a wide smile on her face as she nodded greetings. Behind her came Derek, seemingly unbothered by the eyes that paid him equal due. Cast in the role of audience, Jennie saw him now as others must see him, a tall handsome man with beautifully mobile features, a man at home in his skin, ready to confront whatever was at hand, his presence charged with an electricity equal to Daniela's. She cast her eyes down on her plate, shivering a little as the mixed events of that afternoon came back to her: Derek pulling her out of the water, stretched out beside her on the sand, legs entwined with hers on the bed, Daniela's intrusion.

  Suddenly he was looming over her, his voice demanding attention. 'Hello, Piero—hello, Jennie, shall we join you? There seem to be no empty tables.' Jennie's powers of speech disappeared somewhere into her fluttering stomach as she gazed into the steely blue of his eyes. 'Or would you prefer to be quite alone?' he queried cynically.

  Daniela curled her arm through his, saving the need for reply. 'I'm sure they would prefer to be alone, Derek, so they can get to know each other a little better.' Her voice was insinuating.

  'Per la signora Colombi, we can always find a table if she wishes,' the waiter intervened.

  Daniela smiled her acknowledgment. 'Perhaps we can sit with you for a moment until our table is ready, yes?'

  Jennie nodded and Daniela slipped down on the chair beside her, while Derek moved next to Piero.

  'Well, Jennie, you seem quite recovered from this afternoon's adventure, altogether recovered.' There was a mocking light in Derek's eyes as they roved over her face. 'In fact, if it weren't a trifle cruel to suggest it, I might even say it had done you good.'

  Jennie's dark eyes flashed anger. 'Perhaps I should take up being accosted professionally—only within saving distance, of course. It gives men the rare opportunity of being heroes. Oh yes, I can see the ad now. "Distressed damsel offers services to potential heroes. Prove your brawn for a small fee".' Her voice dripped irony.

  'Did something happen to you this afternoon, Jennie?' Piero's voice was low.

  She turned to him. 'Two youths decided to flirt with me a little aggressively in the water. They took me by surprise, and I think I panicked.'

  'And Derek saved her,' Daniela burst in, laughing. 'It seems to have gone to his head, this show of valour!'

  'Well, next time I'll just stand by and enjoy the sight. Let you ladies fend for yourselves, if that's the way you prefer it.'

  'Not me, per Dio,' Daniela exclaimed. 'You can save my life any time,' she directed a languorous gaze at Derek.

  'Any time may be an exaggeration,' Jennie uttered curtly, and then seeing the hurt in his eyes, she mellowed, 'but I am grateful for today.'

  He gave her a black look as the waiter came to usher them to their own table.

  Piero looked at Jennie silently for a long moment. 'Were you in trouble this afternoon?' he asked at last.

  She nodded. 'And Derek did help. I don't know what made me act so ungraciously. I guess it was just his manner,' she shrugged.

  Piero eyed her sceptically. 'He's a good man, you know. One of the best I've worked with. And his patience with Daniela is extraordinary.'

  Jennie flushed in embarrassment, sensing his rebuke. 'I know that. I'm sorry.'

  'Is there something going on between the two of you?' His voice was gentle, friendly, but demanded an honest answer.

  Jennie played nervously with her hair and then forced her eyes to meet Piero's. 'I don't know. He—well, he makes me uncomfortable.' The flush was still on her face.

  Piero chuckled, 'Well, that's a promising beginning. But never mind about all that now. Let's enjoy this food.'

  The waiter had set down two plates of calamari smelling invitingly of garlic and herbs. Jennie realised that she was starving. She returned Piero's warm smile. 'Thanks for being so patient with me. And for feeding me for the second, or is it the third time today.'

  'I can't think of anyone I'd rather feed, my strange little prickly Englishwoman.'

  'A strangely ravenous Englishwoman would be more like it!' Jennie laughed, and dug into the spicy food.

  Dinner passed pleasantly now that they were alone and Jennie found herself basking in Piero's easy humour. Odd, she thought to herself as she watched him paying the bill, he feels like a friend. She grimaced inwardly, the only one I've made in years, apart from Mrs Owen.

  Piero seemed to read her thoughts. 'These plane journeys have a way of bringing people together in a hurry. If you ever need a shoulder, Jennie, mine's quite broad. You sometimes seem to need one desperately.'

  She looked at him seriously. 'Thanks, I'll remember that.'

  Only as they were leaving the restaurant did she once again sense Derek's presence, the hard glint of his mocking eyes which seemed to strip her bare. She allowed herself to lean into the comfort of Piero's guiding arm. Sensing her tension mingled with tiredness, he held her close and gave her a comforting smile.

  As she snuggled into the cool sheets that night, Jennie was pleased at the thought of Piero's warmth, the burgeoning friendship between them. But as an image of Derek gazing at the two of them flitted over her eyelids, she felt strangely at odds. It filled her with a sense of intoxicated anticipation, sent a tremor through her limbs. Simultaneously, a nagging familiar voice surfaced within her, issued warnings, telling her about the desirability of keeping herself only to herself. She sighed and sleep overcame her before she could make sense of her warring emotions.

  The next morning Jennie got out of bed with a flush of exhilaration. A whole day of sun and sea awaited her. She poked Kathy recklessly awake. 'Fancy coming down to the beach with me? I don't want to waste another second indoors.'

  Kathy rolled over muttering and then climbed out of bed. 'For a minute, I'd forgotten where we were. Yes, please, lead the way… but can we stop for a cup of coffee first?' She wiped the sleep from her eyes.

  Jennie grinned, 'If it's a brief pause.' She rummaged through her drawers and case for her swimming suit and groaned, 'Blast! I left my bikini in Derek's room.'

  Kathy looked at her curiously.

  'It's not what you think,' Jennie hastened to say. 'But what do I do now? Is it too early to knock at his door?'

  Kathy glanced at the travelling alarm clock by her bed. 'Nine-thirty. Almost a civilised hour.'

  Jennie garnered her courage. The temptation to swim was enormous. But could she face knocking at Derek's door? And what if he weren't alone?

  'I'd lend you one of mine, but it would float on you,' Kathy offered.

  Jennie shook her head. 'I'll go and knock very softly.' She splashed some cold water over her face, pulled on shorts and a tee-shirt and throwing her shoulders back inarched out of the room.

  She knocked quietly at Derek's door, waited no more than a second and began to turn away. Just then the door opened and Derek's broad shoulders filled the doorway. He was clad in sparkling white and looked thoroughly composed, a sheaf of notes in one hand.

  'Well, this is an unexpected pleasure,' he said softly, only a hint of irony in his voice as he ushered her into the room.

  Jennie demurred. 'I left my swimsuit here yesterday,' her lips trembled a little as she said it, 'and I wanted to go for a swim…'

  His eyes twinkled. 'Bad habit, leaving your clothes in men's rooms.'

  'It's hardly a habit,' Jennie replied heatedly.

  'Come in and have some coffee while I go and look for it. And do try to be gracious for a few minutes with the man who saved your life,' he chuckled, and Jennie walked into the room, sitting down by the little table where a pot of coffee stood invitingly.

  'Pour yourself some,' Derek ordered.

  Jennie did, and sipped its hot fragrance, letting her eyes roam around the room. The large double bed was thoroughly tumbled and she looked away from it quickly.

  Derek caught her glance. 'I'm a restless sleeper,' he said casually. He pulled a strand of hair away from her eyes. 'Perhaps you can come and calm me down one night.'
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  Jennie could think of nothing to say in return, but she moved away from his touch as if from an arching flame. She sipped her coffee quickly and having emptied the cup, asked again for her bikini.

  Derek went into the bathroom and came back with it. 'I hope you're not planning to venture out alone today,' he said menacingly, and then added more kindly, 'I'd offer you my protection, but I have some work to finish up. Perhaps I'll join you later. In fact there was something I wanted to ask your opinion on.'

  Jennie hid her surprise and simply nodded her thanks, leaving the room as quickly as she could. But she wondered what it was Derek could possibly want to know of her.

  There were already a few of the team on the little cove beach when Jennie and Kathy arrived. Tempted by the sight of the lounging bodies, Jennie took out her sketchpad and withdrew to a perch she noticed on one of the boulders. Here she sketched happily until the sun's heat impelled her towards the sea.

  She plunged in, revelling in the water's smoothness, and swam out fearlessly towards a rock she could make out in the distance. She rested for a moment on its slippery surface and then swam back, stretching out on the sand by Kathy's side. The sun beat down on her with its powerful rays, cleansing her of the last remnants of strained anxiety, searing out the restless little voice of her anxious will.