Means to an End

by Lucy Gillen

  She felt frankly sorry for herself, for she would much rather have been out in the sun, doing something much more energetic like walking or swimming. Reading on a day like today did not appeal at all. She cast an uninterested gaze over the titles on the shelves, pulling out one or two and putting

  them back when they failed to impress her.

  She had thought she heard sounds in the hall, but put it down to Mrs. Dawlish moving about at her work, and she looked back over her shoulder only when the door opened. ‘Oh ! ‘ She looked at Stefano a little vaguely. Without quite knowing why, she had expected him to be with Aunt Celia, and his sudden appearance startled her for a moment.

  ‘I thought you were resting that foot,’ he said, by way of greeting, and she frowned, turning back to the bookshelves with a shrug.

  ‘I thought you’d gone to the village with Aunt Celia.’

  `Why?’

  The question puzzled her and she turned again to look at him. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. `I—I just did, that’s all.’

  He stood just inside the door watching her and he was smiling, the kind of smile she found oddly disturbing, and viewed with suspicion. `Ah, I see you are unhappy because you cannot be out,’ he said, and Alison pursed her lips.

  `So would you be, if you were cooped up here for days on end,’ she complained.

  ‘Days?’ His head shook slowly. ‘You have been here only one day so far,’ he pointed out, and Alison frowned.

  ‘It’s quite long enough when the weather’s so lovely,’ she told him. ‘I hate staying in when it’s fine.’

  He eyed her for a moment or two steadily. ‘You are feeling sorry for yourself,’ he told her.

  ‘Yes, I am She glanced at his hands in driving

  gloves and her frown deepened. ‘I suppose you’re going out now?’ she said, and he raised a brow, smiling at her.

  ‘Do you mind if I do?’ he asked, and she shrugged, leaving her opinion in no doubt.

  ‘Why should I?’ she asked, and looked reproachfully at him when he laughed. ‘And I don’t think it’s particularly funny,’ she told him.

  ‘Oh, but neither do I, piccola.’ be sympathised, and only his eyes betrayed his amusement still. ‘I am going down to Peggs Bay for the boat. Would you like to come with me?’

  She looked at him for a moment with wide, hopeful eyes. ‘May I?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course, if you would like to.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ she assured him fervently, and turned her back on the bookshelves.

  ‘You are very spoiled, I think,’ he said with a smile as he came across the room to her, and she pouted reproach at him. ‘And as we are likely to be gone for an hour or two you will sit here while I tell Mrs. Dawlish that you have gone with me, then Celia will not be wondering where you have gone to when she gets back.’

  It did not even occur to her to remember the second half of Aunt Celia’s errand, and if she was honest about it, Danny had never been further from her mind as she waited impatiently for Stefano to come for her.

  He was gone only a minute and when he came back she found herself once more swept up in to his arms, her own going instinctively around his neck. ‘You seem to be making a habit of sweeping me off

  my feet,’ she told him facetiously, trying to control the increasingly rapid flutter of her pulse as he carried her out to the car.

  He said nothing, but laughed as he put her carefully into the passenger seat. She narrowed her eyes against the sun, and he nodded his head, as if he had just remembered something. ‘Where are your sunglasses?’ he asked.

  ‘In my room, but I don’t need them, Stefano, really.’

  ‘I will not have you spoil your eyes,’ he told her firmly. ‘I will fetch them and you will put them on.’

  ‘But ‘ she began, and he smiled down at her, a wicked glint challenging her objection.

  `If you tell me exactly where to find them,’ he said, ‘I shall not spend too much time in your room.’

  She felt childish and rather prissy for having even begun to raise an objection, and she did not look at him when she told him where to find them. ‘They’re only on the dressing table,’ she said. ‘You can’t miss them.’

  ‘I won’t be gone very long, then, but it is necessary that you wear them when the sun is so strong.’

  `Yes, sir ! ‘ she called after him as he ran back up the step to the house, and he turned in the doorway and smiled.

  ‘Bimba!’ he retorted softly, and vanished in to the house.

  He returned in a very few minutes with her sunglasses and made sure she put them on by perching them on her nose, before he went round and tucked himself behind the wheel and started the engine.

  the breeze they made as they went along felt wonderfully cool and she leaned back in her seat, content to do nothing else but sit back and enjoy herself, her eyes behind the dark lenses drooping sleepily before they had gone very far.

  They parked, as they had before, on the pull-in just off the quay, and Alison smiled anticipation when she looked across at the Piccola gleaming and bobbing in the bright sunlight. But she drew the line at being carried along the quay where anyone ‘might see her, and shook her head firmly when he came round for her.

  ‘I can walk that little way,’ she told him.

  ‘It is better you do not walk on your foot.’

  ‘Then it is better I stay here in the car,’ she told “him stubbornly, mocking his accent, a liberty he appeared not to resent.

  He stood beside the car, looking down at her with an expression that was as much amused as exasperated. You are spoiled,’ he declared, and Alison shrugged.

  `So you said before, but I’m still not going to be carried along the quay.’

  `Very well, asinella!’ He opened the door of the car and stood back, making an exaggerated bow. ‘I shall allow you to help yourself.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She swung her legs round and put her feet to the ground cautiously, wincing when her sore foot came in contact with the ground, then she ,stood for a moment, one foot turned on its side, before starting to hobble along the quay. It was much harder going, however, than it had been in

  the house, with the furniture to hold on to, and after a step or two, she turned to him and put out a hand and arm in a gesture of appeal. ‘Please,’ she said, looking suitably contrite. ‘If you could just lend me an arm, I can manage.’

  He sighed deeply, but put an arm round her waist and almost lifted her off the ground. ‘You are such a little donkey,’ he said resignedly.

  ‘Was that what you called me just now?’ He nodded, smiling down at her indignant expression. ‘Thank you, that’s very charming.’ She tried to sound indignant, but found herself smiling instead, as he all but carried her along the quay as far as the boat’s mooring.

  He abandoned her for a moment while he dropped down in to the boat, then reached up to lift her down beside him, sitting her on the long leather-cushioned seat. ‘Thank you,’ she said meekly, and he laughed but said nothing.

  He gave his attention to the boat, checking gauges, and dials, twiddling knobs and generally looking busy, while Alison watched, wondering if any of it was being done to impress her. Perhaps not, she thought after a moment or two, for he did not have the mentality that would see the need to impress her.

  Apparently satisfied at last, he started up the powerful engine and ran it for a few seconds before casting off, heading the launch out to sea, the throbbing life of it pulsating under Alison’s feet and right up her spine.

  ‘I have been looking at some local maps,’ Stefano said after a moment or two, calling back to her over

  his shoulder. ‘There is a place called Heron’s Point, do you know it?’

  Alison nodded. ‘Yes, I do.’ She realised her words were being whipped away by the wind when he turned and looked at her enquiringly, so she got to her feet and went to join him where he stood at the wheel.

  `Sit down!’ He pointed to a box-like contraption built into the si
de of the boat, and obediently she sat herself down on it. It was not as comfortable as the leather-upholstered seat, but at least it took the weight off her foot and she was within speaking distance of him.

  ‘I used to know Heron’s Point quite well,’ she told him. ‘Is that where we’re going?’

  He turned his head and smiled at her, rather enigmatically. ‘Is that where you’d like to go?’ he asked.

  She looked at him uncertainly for a moment, surprised to have been consulted. ‘I haven’t seen it for years,’ she said. ‘A friend took me there several times, some years ago now.’

  ‘Is there anything to see?’

  She shrugged. It was a long time ago, or so it seemed, since she had last visited Heron’s Point, but she could remember it quite well, as a place that had appealed to her. ‘I haven’t been there for quite a long time,’ she said, ‘but it used to be rather quiet and isolated, if you like that sort of thing. There’s a nice beach, but it you wanted to land from the boat you’d have to go round to the north side, where the water’s deeper.’

  `But there is a mooring we could use?’

  She nodded. Not a proper mooring, but there are rocks on the north side, and places where you can tie up.’

  `And then climb over the rocks?’

  She pulled a wry face, when she remembered that part of it. `Yes, I’m afraid so, although it isn’t very far, as I remember, before it levels off for a bit and then slopes down the other side, where the beach is.’

  He was smiling, one brow lifted in query. ‘You would like to go? Even though it means climbing over the rocks?’

  She nodded. ‘I could manage that much,’ she told him, ‘and I’d love to see Heron’s Point again after all this time.’

  Another smile came her way, a smile that gave her a sudden warm feeling of pleasure, although she told herself it was quite absurd to allow herself such emotions where Stefano was concerned. ‘Then we shall go,’ he said.

  The long, sandy peninsula looked so exactly the same as the last time she had seen it that she could scarcely believe it. The sand here was much whiter than further along the coast and it glittered and shone like spilled sugar in the hot sun, while the grey rocks on the north side offered a means of access from deep water. It was quiet and deserted except for a colony of gulls who rose at their approach and screamed indignant defiance at the invasion.

  `It looks exactly the same,’ she said, half to herself, as Stefano took the boat round to the far side in search of a mooring.

  It was not too difficult to find one, for on this side of the peninsula there was no beach, only the grim grey rock rising out of deep water and running for several yards across the width of the sandy strip before it gave way to sand and sloped down to the beach on the south side. It was the presence of a sheer, deep shelf of rock below the water that actually caused the difference in geography between the two sides of the peninsula, and mainly accounted for its desertion too, for unless one knew the lie of the land very well, bathing from that tempting looking beach could be dangerous.

  Stefano, she thought, was not altogether happy about such a makeshift mooring, but he tied them up securely and then helped her ashore. He would have given more assistance, but she refused it. ‘I can manage, thank you,’ she told him. ‘I have something to hold on to with the rocks.’

  He smiled dryly, and put a hand under her arm anyway as they made their way over the rocks. ‘I have never known a woman be so determinedly independent,’ he told her, and Alison glanced at him under her lashes.

  ‘Well, at least you’ve acknowledged the fact that I’m a woman,’ she said. ‘That’s a step in the right direction.’

  He laughed, and his fingers dug gently into her arm as he guided her. ‘I have never denied that, piccolla,’ he said. ‘What made you think I did?’

  `Huh! ‘ She was struggling not only with her progress over the rocks but also with a rapid and breathtaking pounding under her ribs that dismayed her when she considered their position. ‘You could have

  fooled me,’ she retorted. ‘You’re usually more inclined to act the heavy-handed guardian and make me feel about six inches high.’

  ‘I am sure I do not!’

  ‘Yes, you do ! ‘ she argued, and then met his eyes, hastily turning her head away again. ‘You know,’ she added quickly, trying to restore normality, ‘Danny would say I was stark raving mad to have even thought of coming here at all with this silly foot.’

  Stefano laughed. ‘And he would be right, of course.’

  She glanced up to deny it, met his eyes again, and once more hastily lowered her own. ‘Then that makes two of us ‘ she retorted breathlessly.

  Oddly enough it seemed to be less difficult to use her one-sided gait on the uneven ground than it had been where it was more level, and the hand holding her arm undoubtedly helped, so that they were soon making their way down the fairly steep slope to the south side and the beach.

  The long arm of the peninsula stretched out from the mainland for almost half a mile and there was not a soul in sight, apart from the two of them, a realisation that caused her a momentary qualm as they sat down on the hot sand. The nearest road was some miles away on the mainland, and it was unlikely that many other amateur sailors would be coming that way either, so that she felt they might just as well have been in the middle of the Sahara, or on some deserted island. It gave her a strong and discomfiting sense of intimacy which she tried hard to dismiss as she leaned back on her hands.

  She loved the feel of the sun on her skin and also revelled in the soft, cool breeze that blew inshore, closing her eyes as she lifted her face to it. It was, she supposed after a moment or two, as good a time as any to attempt persuasion, to get the money she and Danny wanted so badly.

  Stefano would surely feel mellow enough to be more approachable on the subject, in these surroundings. The only trouble was that she was reluctant to destroy her own peace and relaxation with anything as mundane as money matters.

  She opened her eyes again and looked at Stefano from behind the camouflage of dark glasses, wondering just how amenable to reason he would be if she attempted it. He had no jacket and the usual white shirt was opened to the waist so that the sun he loved so much could turn his body even browner while he leaned back on his elbows, watching the sea ruffling the edge of the sand only a few feet from where they sat.

  `Do you like it here?’ she ventured at last, not quite knowing what direction she intended taking, and he turned his head and smiled at her, his own eyes hidden by dark glasses so that she could not read his expression.

  ‘It is very quiet and isolated,’ he said. ‘I like it so.’

  `No—I actually meant, do you like being here, in England,’ Alison explained, and he nodded, turning again to look at the rolling water.

  ‘That is why I stay, of course,’ he told her. ‘I have business here now, and I think I shall perhaps stay for some time, at least until ‘ He shrugged

  then, and said no more, leaving her to puzzle over what he had said.

  `Business here?’ she asked, and he turned and looked at her again.

  `Yes. Did you not know?’

  She shook her head. `No. No, I had no idea.’

  He was smiling again, rather sardonically, she thought. `Did you think that my stepfather was keeping me, Alison? Or had you not thought about it at all?’

  ‘Not at all,’ she confessed, and added a mite indignantly, ‘I certainly hadn’t thought my great-grandfather was—was keeping you. You had no call to say that.’

  `I’m sorry.’ He turned over on one elbow and reached out a hand to cover hers where it lay in the sand. `When Mama married the old man I came with her to England because she had—doubts. You understand?’

  `Perfectly,’ Alison said.

  `She was not a young woman, you understand,’ he went on, `but she was much younger than my passo patrigno, and to come to a strange country alone ‘ He spread expressive hands. `I was her only son, so I came too, to care for her
when she was —lonely. We got along very well, the old man and I, and he helped me to start in the same business that I have in Milano.’

  Alison blinked, impressed, despite herself. ‘You mean you have two businesses going?’

  He nodded, smiling a little at her reaction. ‘I have a very successful property business, piccola. Why should I give up so much when I have made it

  work so well?’

  ‘I—I’d no idea,’ she said. ‘You’re—I suppose you’re quite a wealthy man in your own right?’

  ‘Fairly so,’ he agreed, with another smile. ‘Now I have the same kind of business here.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ She looked at the shining, restless water for a few moments, all sorts of things going through her mind. Thinking that it seemed almost impossible to believe that while she had been living only a matter of five miles or so away, Stefano had been living at Creggan Bar for several years.

  ‘If you had come to visit your great-grandpapa,’ he told her, ‘you would have met me before, and then who knows, piccola? You might even have liked me a little, huh?’

  She ignored the last, rather provocative question. ‘I only saw Great-Grandpa once,’ she told him. ‘He didn’t like me, and my mother said he never wanted to see me again, especially after my father was killed. He never forgave me for not being a boy, you see.’

  Stefano smiled up at her, resting on one elbow, his eyes still hidden, but she could guess their expression and felt again that uneasy, restless bumping sensation against her ribs. ‘He was a fool to have regretted that,’ he told her softly.

  ‘He wanted a boy, you see,’ she explained, talking just to cover how her mind was racing and the way her pulse hammered at her temple because he was touching her fingers. ‘That’s why he left you in charge of all the money—he wanted to make sure I didn’t get too much at once and become a lady of leisure.’

  It was almost accidental, the mention of the