Dangerous Shadows

by Whitelaw, Stella

  As she left the room a card fell from the unmade bed, fluttering down in an errant breeze. It fell at Holly’s feet and lay open.

  See you for lunch, sweetheart, it said. The writing was bold and angular, the crossed line of the f and the two t’s almost tearing the surface of the card.

  Holly stared at the words, then slowly pushed it under the bed with the toe of her sandal. She did not want anyone to see it. Surely that writing was masculine? A woman would not stab with a pen. It was not Luke’s handwriting. She had seen his irregular, almost unreadable scrawl a hundred times.

  *

  Danielle was driving into Bridgetown, her phone against her ear. She had forgotten her hat, but she didn’t want to get her hair spoilt after the hairdressers, so it didn’t matter. She’d keep out of the sun.

  “Look, this is the very last time,” she said. “Do you understand? You have got to leave me alone. Yes, I know it was fun and I appreciate the coaching and advice. But no more. I have other things on my mind.”

  She put the phone down onto her knee, not even listening to him. She’d heard it all before. He wanted to give her away at the wedding. Of all the insane ideas. She would be the laughing stock of Barbados, and how the tongues would wag.

  “And don’t phone me again,” she said, interrupting him. “I don’t want to hear from you. It’s over for good. This is the last time.”

  She switched off her phone and threw it out of the window. It tumbled into the weedy ditch. She would buy a new phone, get a new number. Perhaps she ought to buy him a present. Maybe an expensive panama hat, the kind that folds easily because it is so supple.

  *

  “Are you ready, Holly?” Luke called up the stairs. “We’ve got to drive into Bridgetown in the rush hour. We’re going to run out of time.”

  “Coming.” No time for lunch then, thought Holly. That would suit her. She would make her own way back to the house. Have a swim, hide somewhere, finish that book, pack - pack for going home.

  “You’ll need a hat.”

  She’d forgotten her hat. There was a vibrant yellow one, trimmed with marigolds, hanging by the kitchen door and she took it down. It would have to do.

  “Ready.”

  They didn’t talk much on the drive which suited Holly. She could enjoy the countryside and the rows of colourful chattel houses. Even the new villas springing up along by the sea were a delight with their balconies and ironwork.

  “You like Barbados, don’t you?” said Luke, not taking his eyes off the busy road. It was teeming with traffic, scooters and bicycles.

  “I think it’s lovely. Of course, I’m only seeing the best side of it. Staying in that luxurious house, being waited on by Lily, the beach on my doorstep. I might think differently if I was living in a squalid room somewhere.”

  “That’s true. It might be paradise but they suffered in those dreadful hurricanes. Thousands of people were made homeless. Many people died. I’ve discovered some terrible stories.”

  “At least they are survival stories.”

  “But always at great cost.”

  Luke parked the car and they walked down Broad Street, the duty free shopping centre. Holly put on the yellow hat and tucked her hair underneath so that her neck could feel any breeze. Broad Street had lots of jewellery shops. It was crowded. The daily cruise ship had arrived and hundreds of passengers were here looking for bargains, window-shopping along the pavements, walking in the road.

  It seemed Luke knew which jewellers was the best. It had a smart and discreet Bond Street look, its window dressed with a few sparkling rings and necklaces. The door was security locked but an assistant pressed the release button when she saw who it was standing outside..

  “Good morning, Mr Kenyon. How are you? Nice to see you. And is this the lucky bride?”

  The woman smiled at Holly, ready with congratulations.

  “Unfortunately no,” said Luke. “This is the lucky bridesmaid, Miss Holly Gray.”

  “Still, she is lucky to be a bridesmaid at such a beautiful wedding. Your turn next, Miss Gray,” the assistant smiled, showing lots of white teeth.

  “I can’t wait,” said Holly with a false smile.

  *

  Holly was not sure how she got through the choosing of the wedding ring. In the end they both decided that an engraved gold band would suit Danielle. She might think that a plain gold ring was too ordinary.

  The engraved ring was very pretty. The pattern of leaves was delicate and stylish. Holly produced the opal dress ring so that the wedding band could be made the correct size.

  “The ring will be ready in two days,” said the assistant. “Would you be able to pick it up, Mr Kenyon? It is an expensive ring. I should not like to send it by courier.”

  “Yes, I’ll come for it. Or if I’m delayed by work, would it be all right if Holly collects it? You know her by face. She is my trusted courier. She wouldn’t be tempted to take it to the nearest pawn shop.”

  “That would be perfect,” said the assistant. “We should know Miss Gray.”

  Holly smiled faintly. There was a lot she would be tempted to do. Throw it into the sea. Wear it herself on a ribbon round her neck. Give it to Lily.

  “You don’t mind?” Luke asked outside the shop. “Collecting the ring?”

  “No, of course not,” she said, shaking her head. “Rather like old times when we were working together. Your little slave. I got to do all the odd errands.”

  Luke looked at her closely, was about to say something, then seemed to change his mind. For a moment he was emotionally bankrupt.

  “Thanks, Holly. Time seems to be running out for all the things I have to do. And I did want to take you out to lunch. I’ve booked a table at Brown Sugar, great place, does genuine Bajan food but I can’t make it now. It was all that traffic. Go and have a wonderful lunch, try all the exotic dishes. It’s a real experience.”

  “Sure,” said Holly. She had other plans for the time. Buy a gift, change her air ticket, explore. She wanted to go to the Shell Gallery which had lots of interesting exhibits. Barry Armitage had told her that the Barbados Museum was also outstanding and not to be missed. A museum in Barbados? It seemed strange. What would it display? A few shells? Hurricane relics?

  Luke kissed her lightly on the cheek and disappeared into the bustling crowds. It was a butterfly kiss. But it was indelible, as if he had put his mark on her.

  She pulled the straw hat firmly on her head and began to stroll towards the main shops. Duty-free sounded good although she was not looking for a gift that shrieked local souvenir. She wanted to find something that was beautiful but definitely from the island. Perhaps glassware, hand-made pottery or a piece of Barbadian history would be good. Could she find one of Sam Lord’s lanterns?

  The sun was beating down and Holly was glad of the hat and the T-shirt covering her shoulders. She saw a lot of glistening bare skin that was going to hurt tomorrow. The shops were full of fascinating merchandise. She had also to buy a gift for Sadie. And Zoe? Shopping was suddenly taking over.

  A hand touched her shoulder and Holly spun round.

  “Hey there, beautiful lady. You’re nearly late for our lunch date,” came a distinctive Barbadian drawl. “I’ve been waiting here all alone, counting the minutes.

  And now you are here. Our good time together.”

  Holly turned up the brim of the hat and looked at the speaker. He was a tall, very handsome Barbadian, with dark cropped hair, brilliant white teeth, a captivating smile. His skin was a light colour, as if he had mixed parentage.

  “Hey, really sorry, miss,” he said, taking his hand off her and throwing them both wide as if to show he was no threat. He stood back, almost knocking over a pedestrian. “You are wrong lady. How could I make this mistake? I must be touched by the sun. You are also very beautiful but, alas, not the right lady. It’s the same hat but different face. I thought you were someone else.”

  “I borrowed the hat this morning,” said Holly. She’d se
en him somewhere before but could not place him. The pre-wedding party? The barbecue? The beach? Maybe she’d seen him on the beach. “It isn’t mine.”

  “That explains,” he said sadly. “My apologies.” He bowed his head and turn away, ready to disappear into the crowd. “Have a good day.”

  “Do I know you?” Holly asked quickly but he had gone, swallowed up by the mass of cruise passengers. “Stop. Please wait.”

  Was this Danielle’s lunch date, thought Holly as she watched his tall, rangy figure stroll away? He was head and shoulders above everyone else. Had Danielle arranged to have lunch with this handsome young man? What on earth was her cousin up to, meeting and having a secret lunch in Bridgetown, only days before her wedding?

  Holly thought she had had enough shocks for one day. No one had warned her that this would be a roller-coaster wedding.

  Unfortunately, no. What had Luke meant by saying that in the jewellers shop? Was he merely being polite? She should not read too much into it. Holly clamped her pounding pulse and hurried into a cool bar for a cold drink. The day had heated up. There was a lot to think about and none of it was easy.

  *

  It took time to get connected by shore line to the right customs office. He was starting to sweat in the heat, slipped off his jacket. The Gloriana II was island hopping.

  “I’m hoping you can help me. My fiancée flew to Barbados a few days ago and I must contact her. It’s really very urgent. Do you know where she is staying? Her name is Miss Holly Gray.”

  “We are not allowed to give that information, sir.”

  “But she will have filled in a form on arrival, won’t she? It’s quite usual, isn’t it? You put where you are staying and the purpose of your visit.”

  “I’m sorry but that information is classified.”

  “I’m telling you this is a matter of life or death.” He was starting to get angry. He put on his most aggressive, authoritative voice. “I demand that I speak to your superior immediately. I have no time to waste talking to an idiot like you. Every minute could cost Holly her life. You must help me.”

  He heard the murmur of voices against a background of phones and keyboards. He thought he heard the drone of an overhead plane.

  “Just a minute, sir. I’ll put you through to someone who may be able to help you. He is the immigration official at the Bridgetown Central Police Station.”

  Jake slammed down the phone. That was the last person he wanted to talk to.

  Another wasted phone call. This was costing him money. His winnings last night in the ship’s casino were fast vanishing.

  Chapter Eight

  They sat together on the terrace at Tiger Bay House, under a shady umbrella in the afternoon sun. Holly said nothing about her encounter with the handsome Barbadian. Nor did Danielle mention her luncheon arrangement. They were chatting about the wedding as usual. Holly wondered if Danielle ever talked about anything else.

  “This hairdressing salon is fabulous,” said Danielle. “They have such elegant designs. You should see them. Nothing is plain or simple. I’m not sure how to have my hair done. I’ve brought back some photos. Would you like to see them?”

  “Yes, lovely. I went shopping.” Holly didn’t mention the ring. “I’ve bought a pair of hand-carved mahogany dolphins for my friend Sadie. She could use them as book-ends, or door stops in our flat.”

  “Terrific. The craft work is so good here, isn’t it?”

  “I’ll take them upstairs, then I’ll look at your hair designs.”

  “Don’t be long. Lily is bringing us some tea.”

  Holly took the dolphins upstairs to her room. She had not been successful about changing her air ticket. There was a restriction on changing it and she would have to pay a surcharge. Also there were few vacant seats on planes, as an international cricket tournament was about to finish and many flights were fully booked.

  “I could re-route you,” said the helpful travel clerk. “Via New York. You’d fly Barbados to New York, stay overnight, then fly JFK to London Heathrow.”

  Holly felt a familiar pang of despair. It sounded horrendous. Two long flights and an overnight stay in a city she did not know. Danielle would have coped but it was beyond her. She would get mugged or her passport would be stolen. And her luggage would be lost.

  “Thank you,” said Holly. “I’ll think about it and come in again. You might have some cancellations.”

  “That’s true,” said the smartly uniformed travel clerk. “It often happens. People don’t want to leave Barbados and our glorious sunshine, so they tag on a few extra days to their holiday.”

  “I can understand that. The weather is wonderful.”

  “Not always,” the clerk went on, looking up from her screen. “My dad remembers the hurricane of 1953. He was in the thick of it. That was not so glorious. He survived because his grandparents saved him. He was hidden in a hole in a barn under piles of tarpaulin and stayed there until he was found. He had nothing to eat, nothing to drink for days.”

  “Did his grandparents survive?”

  “No, they lost their lives.”

  Holly hesitated. “I have a friend…,” she hesitated over using the word. Luke was hardly a friend. She started again. “I know a producer who is making a television documentary about the hurricanes. May I tell him your grandfather’s story?”

  The clerk nodded. She looked pleased. “Yes, of course. He can come and meet him, if you like. My dad lives with me. He’ll be happy to talk to your friend and tell him what it was like. He’d enjoy having a new audience.”

  “Thank you,” said Holly. “Luke would appreciate that. And maybe I’ll get a cancellation?”

  “I’ll keep in touch.”

  The clerk gave Holly a name and an address. It sounded like a chattel house along the old main road into Bridgetown. Holly phoned Luke with the information. He was terse, but pleased. She knew he would be interested.

  Danielle had been late back from Bridgetown. She did not mention her lunch but went straight to her bedroom, laden with carrier bags. She had done some serious shopping. Soon she would run out of wardrobe space. Maybe she would expand into another bedroom. There were plenty of empty ones.

  “Everything all right?” she called out to Holly. “Did you have a nice morning? You didn’t say what you were going to do.”

  “Lots of shopping.”

  Holly didn’t know what else to say. She had spent half of it in the company of Danielle’s groom. Not exactly the top of bridesmaid ethics. She was not proud of herself. Still, buying the ring was a necessary step and one that Luke had somehow forgotten. Reminding him had been a good turn to the happy couple.

  Holly was feeling very hot. She needed a shower or a swim. She went upstairs and stripped off her clothes. The sea won. The black swimsuit had dried from their morning swim and was ready to put on again.

  Before returning downstairs, she slipped into Danielle’s room and put the opal ring back in her cousin’s jewellery box. Danielle’s morning shopping was strewn round the room, boutique carrier bags on the floor and on the chair. Trousseau shopping.

  Danielle had also bought a wide white panama hat, a feather in the navy band. It was perched on her dressing table, obviously a present for Luke. Like a lot of Americans, his choice of protective headgear, if any, was a baseball cap. Danielle hated it. She was trying to change him already.

  Holly didn’t mind what he wore. He always looked what he was, a successful Broadway producer, whether in jeans or a suit from Bijan, 699 Fifth Avenue, where stars like Roger Moore and Jack Nicholson bought their suits.

  Danielle was sipping tea with a slice of lemon. She had decided she must lose a few pounds before her wedding. “I don’t want to look gross,” she said. “Wedding photographs are so important. They will be in all the newspapers. Hello! magazine have approached us, said they would pay mega money for shots of the wedding and Tiger Bay Plantation House. They loved the house. But Luke refused. What an old spoil sport.”
r />   The bridegroom an old spoil sport? Luke, a spoil sport?

  “Would you really like photographers swarming over your wedding, taking pictures of such a personal moment, while you say your vows?” said Holly.

  “I’m not going to promise any vows,” said Danielle. “We are having a different sort of wedding ceremony. There are alternatives, you know, these days. You can say whatever you like. Ours is going to be very modern. I’ve written out my responses. Would you like to see them?”

  “I don’t think I ought to see your vows,” said Holly, hiding her dismay. “They are private. Surprise me. I’m sure they will be…appropriate.” She couldn’t think of a better word.

  “They are perfect and I shall mean every word of them. So will Luke, as long as he promises to take care of me.” Danielle flicked back her golden curls. “You will love it, Holly. You could even say the same words at your wedding, if you like. I’ll give you a copy.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be getting married,” said Holly. “I have my career. It’s important to me. Zoe and I are building up a very successful business.”

  “Oh, those models,” said Danielle, dismissing all their hard work with one word. “All skin and bone.”

  “It’s a lucrative business these days. Look at the current magazines, every page needing beautiful models. The catwalks, the famous designers, the beauty editors. They need new models for every issue. And I’m looking for faces to photograph for Zoe. She said she would like some local faces. She wants a photogenic boy and a girl.”

  “I know the perfect young man for you to photograph. He’s very tall and handsome, quite light skin. Zoe would love him. Would that mean he’d be travelling to London regularly, or New York sometimes?”

  Holly could read her mind. Was this her lunch date companion? Was Danielle thinking ahead, planning some male company if Luke was preoccupied with a new show.

  “I’ve no idea what Zoe has in mind,” said Holly vaguely.