Summer Comes to Albarosa

by Iris Danbury

  When half an hour had elapsed, she decided that he was not coming back. She put the food away in the refrigerator, for having eaten fairly recently, she was not hungry.

  Then he came stumbling in, laden with bags and boxes of food.

  ‘Did you think I wasn’t coming?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘A blunt girl if ever I saw one,’ he muttered, setting down in the kitchen the groceries he had brought with him—a box of eggs, a bottle of milk, a jar of coffee, butter and, surprisingly, a string of onions.

  ‘It’s very good of you to bring all these,’ she said, infusing gratitude into her tone.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ he agreed. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll probably be charged up for all the items.’ He gave her a crooked smile as he buttered an omelette pan and put it on the gas flame.

  The resulting meal proved that Mr. Eldridge was a creditable cook, even if, as he admitted, his range of menus was limited.

  ‘Can you tell me where I’m to get supplies of provisions and so on?’ she asked him. ‘I know that every visitor must have a stock already in the fridge to start with, and of course, I shall need to eat without traipsing to the town every day for shopping.’

  ‘I’ll give you a list of the shops, but first you must go there personally and tell them that you’re the new lady manageress of the villas and that you will pay for everything by the month. These villas have a bad name for credit.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘The agents who were supposed to be responsible didn’t give the right instructions or send the money.’

  ‘Was it a Spanish company?’

  ‘No. English. A Spanish concern might be at fault in some respects, but they wouldn’t defraud their own shopkeepers.’

  ‘I understood from Mrs. Parmenter, the owner, that she’d tried both English and Spanish agents to look after the villas and neither had been successful.’ fie cut himself a hunk of cheese. ‘What did she expect? She buys a few villas, lets them to tourists and is convinced that she’s going to make a fortune.’

  ‘She needs the income,’ Caran pointed out. ‘She’s put her capital into the villas as an investment and expects it to pay the right dividends.’

  ‘So the whole place would pay and pay handsomely, if only it were properly run.’

  ‘That’s why I’m here,’ she reminded him. ‘Mrs. Parmenter said she was tired of losing early lettings because the villas weren’t up to standard.’

  ‘But her trouble is that when she loses lettings, she tries to make up the loss by much higher prices for the summer visitors. People are probably willing to pay, but they expect a certain service in return. This last summer, for instance, there was not enough maids. Benita could look after only two villas at a time, although she tried to do more.’

  ‘Where were the other maids, then?’

  ‘Just not engaged. Plenty of girls in the town would be willing to come if the wages and conditions were right, but they’re not going to slave for nothing.’

  ‘Was Benita supposed to clean and look after the villas all through the winter?’ she asked.

  ‘I suppose so, but you can’t blame the girl if she finds that there’s no supervision, all the villas empty except mine, and gets herself a job in the town. It’s quite likely that her wages weren’t paid.’

  Caran was thoughtful. ‘I seem to have a formidable task before me,’ she murmured,

  ‘You certainly have. How much did you find out about all this lot before you took on the job.’

  She smiled wryly. ‘Not enough, evidently. But I shall make these villas so popular and well run that there’ll be a waiting list.’

  His oblique glance conveyed his scepticism.

  ‘Mrs. Parmenter has two new ones being built. I haven’t seen them yet,’ Caran continued.

  ‘Only half finished. They’re on the other side of the little neck of land that sticks out in a point. You’ll have to chase up the builders if you want those two finished in time for next summer.’

  ‘How long have Gabriela and her family been occupying one of the villas?’ was her next question.

  He considered for a moment. ‘About six weeks or so.’

  ‘How on earth am I going to get them out? Her mother said the family had been turned out of where they were living.’

  ‘Yes, so I heard. They couldn’t pay the rent.’

  ‘Well, they’ll simply have to go. Otherwise we shall have other families taking possession of empty villas.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he agreed. ‘You mustn’t be too soft.’

  ‘What does Gabriela’s husband do for a living?’ she asked after a pause.

  ‘He’s a waiter at a restaurant in the town, El Catalan.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Gabriela recommended me to go there today for a meal.’

  ‘It’s not bad,’ Mr. Eldridge conceded. ‘He doesn’t earn much, of course, but at least he’s able to bring some food home with him. Otherwise they’d all starve.’

  Caran’s heart was filled with pity for this unfortunate family and could sympathise with Gabriela’s temptation to occupy, even for a few weeks, an empty villa.

  ‘M’m,’ she said now. ‘I shall have to see what I can do to find them other accommodation.’

  ‘Have you influence with the local authorities, d’you think?’ His tone was unmistakably sardonic.

  ‘None, of course, but I was thinking that I know someone who might be most influential. His name is Senor Mendosa.’

  ‘Don Ramiro?’ he echoed. ‘That Mendosa?’

  When she nodded, he continued, ‘How on earth do you know Don Ramiro?’

  She explained a trifle huffily that Don Ramiro had driven her from Granada airport, found her a lodging for the night at the house of one of his friends, Senora Molina.

  ‘You mean you arrived at the airport without any definitely arranged transport? Why didn’t you stay the night in Granada?’

  ‘That was my intention until I was told that someone going my way would give me a lift.’

  He snorted with amusement. ‘Aren’t you the greenest girl?’ he said when at last he could speak. ‘If you allow yourself to be picked up at night for a long car ride by any handsome Spaniard, you’re heading for trouble, my girl.’

  ‘Don Ramiro was very kind and I was grateful for his help,’ she said stiffly.

  ‘I’ll bet he’d already spotted you in the airport and hoped you were going his way.’

  ‘Since he apparently lives in Almeria, he came considerably out of his way to bring me to Albarosa last night.’

  ‘Oh, certainly he has a house in Almeria, but he has several others besides, including a villa here in Albarosa.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘I don’t suppose he’d tell you that. He’d prefer to pose as the perfect Spanish gentleman, the nobleman with the purest of motives.’

  ‘You seem to dislike him,’ she observed drily.

  ‘Even your opinion may possibly change when you know him better.’

  ‘It’s doubtful whether I shall ever meet him again.’

  ‘You sound wistful,’ he told her. ‘If you’re anxious to know him better, I can no doubt arrange a meeting for you.’

  ‘Please don’t bother on my behalf,’ she said hastily. ‘I only mentioned his name in passing, as it were.’

  He gave a long, exaggerated sigh. ‘Let’s talk of something else. Tell me why you’ve taken on this ridiculous job.’

  ‘Ridiculous? Why?’

  ‘It’s completely ridiculous at your age.’

  ‘I’m nearly twenty-two,’ she protested. ‘Some people manage to credit me with a little sense.’

  ‘Sense is not enough. You can’t work here by the same commonsense standards you’d use in England. The people are different. Proud and stubborn, they prefer to be coaxed rather than driven.’

  She told him why she had taken the post Mrs. Parmenter had offered.

  ‘And your family? Don’t they mind?’ he queried.


  ‘They trust me to behave reasonably.’

  ‘And not put yourself into the clutches of handsome Dons.’

  She smouldered at his goading tone, but refused to answer. She wondered what sort of job kept him here in Spain, but she would not dream of asking him.

  He finished his coffee and rose to go. ‘I must be off. I’ve work to do.’

  ‘Then I’ll not keep you. Thank you for bringing so much food and drink.’

  She walked with him towards the front porch.

  ‘Buenas noches,’ he said. ‘Sleep well.’

  ‘Good night, Mr. Eldridge.’

  ‘My name is Brooke Eldridge,’ he informed her. ‘I’d better tell you, because sometimes there’s confusion when parcels or messages arrive addressed to Senor Brooke.’

  ‘I shan’t take advantage and start calling you by your Christian name,’ she assured him. ‘Good night, Mr. Eldridge.’

  In the light of the porch lantern she saw his momentary check, his eyelids lowered. Then he went through the arch. ‘Don’t dream too much of the handsome Don Ramiro,’ was his parting injunction.

  ‘Dreams usually come unbidden!’ she called out, but he had already disappeared into the darkness.

  Returning to the living room and clearing away the remains of the supper, she reflected that today had indeed been a remarkable initiation into the formidable task that lay ahead.

  She could not decide at this stage of their acquaintance whether Mr. Brooke Eldridge intended to be friendly and cooperative or whether he would refuse to fall in with any plans that did not suit him.

  He had not disclosed what his job was and she was curious as to what sort of work could claim him at this time of night, nearly half-past ten. Perhaps he was studying for some profession and needed as much solitude as possible.

  She set her alarm clock for seven next morning and fell into a dreamless sleep, unpopulated by any handsome Spaniards or even acid-tongued Englishmen.

  The water for her morning shower was stone cold and she realised that she had forgotten to set the time switch last night. She made a note of her omission, for this was one of the small annoyances that upset visitors at the start. They must be told exactly what was to be done.

  She realised now what a difference it might make to the smooth running of the villas to have someone like herself in the initial position of a visitor. Caran was the guinea-pig who would have to discover all the flaws and put them right.

  After breakfast, her first task was to arrange for supplies of provisions to be sent down to her villa and she went along to the Villa Cristal to ask Gabriela for information.

  Gabriela was, as usual, washing children’s clothes and immediately appeared apprehensive when Caran called.

  ‘You have come to turn us out?’ she queried.

  ‘Not yet,’ replied Caran, ‘but of course, something must be done in the next few days.’

  Gabriela wrung her wet hands in anxiety. ‘We have nowhere to go, no place to live,’ she said tremulously.

  ‘Well, forget that for the moment. I want your help.’

  Caran explained in her careful Spanish that she wanted the names of reliable food shops in Albarosa. It would have been better to rely more on Brooke Eldridge’s promised list, but she could not disturb him this morning and allow him to imagine that she was running after him for every little detail as soon as she had arrived.

  Gabriela offered the information that her sister, Benita, worked in a fairly large grocers’ that sold delicatessen and wines. Caran thought this might do for a start for her own supplies. Later, she would contact other shops in case they were more competitive.

  Benita was serving in the shop when Caran called and placed her order.

  ‘Thank you and your sister for cleaning and tidying my villa so well yesterday,’ she said, as she chose butter and ham. ‘Also for the bottle of wine. That was thoughtful of you. Put it down on the bill.’

  The girl wrote down the order and offered numerous extra items which Caran might like to try.

  ‘That’s enough for the time being,’ decided Caran. ‘Will you deliver today? Villa Joyosa.’

  A middle-aged man, swarthy, with a small black moustache, emerged from behind a stand of wine bottles.

  ‘Villa Joyosa?’ he queried, then shook his head. ‘The money first.’

  Caran made no bones about this brusque demand, for she realised, as Brooke Eldridge had pointed out, that she must build up credit and a good name for the villas all over again.

  She handed him the amount and waited for a receipt. As Caran was leaving, Benita whispered, ‘You should have had the order sent to Senor Eldridge. He does not pay first.’

  Caran smiled. ‘No importa.’ At this stage it did not matter whether she had to pay for everything in advance, but later on the bills would be settled regularly as they came in.

  Near a fountain in a small square she bought flowers from an old woman surrounded by brilliant splashes of colour. Lilies, mimosa, poinsettias and some spiky blue flowers which the flower-seller called ‘lamas’. Caran agreed that they looked like beautiful lances or spears and the botanical name would probably not describe them half so well. She chose an assorted bunch and set out for the house of Senora Molina.

  The senora was delighted with the flowers. ‘Esplendido!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘It’s the only way I can thank you for your kindness and hospitality of two nights ago,’ said Caran.

  Senora Molina shrugged. ‘It was nothing. I was glad to help you anti also to do something for Don Ramiro.’

  ‘I was sorry to bring him so far out of his way. Perhaps when you see him again, you will tell him how grateful I was for his assistance.’

  Senora Molina gave Caran a long, level look. Then she nodded. ‘I will get you a glass of wine.’ As she handed Caran the glass, she said, ‘You are young to take this work with the villas.’

  ‘Oh, I shall manage,’ Caran answered lightly.

  ‘Everything goes well?’

  Caran frowned slightly. ‘Not exactly, but then I’ve barely had time to straighten things out.’

  After she left Senora Molina, Caran spent an hour in the town centre, trying to learn its geography so that she should not be lost a second time.

  During the afternoon she visited the site of the two new villas and inspected progress. Half finished, Brooke Eldridge had declared. As far as she could see, there was still more than half the work to be done on them, for the walls were only partly built, building materials lay in uncovered heaps and the site had an abandoned air.

  She made a few notes, then walked farther down towards the shore. The view from here was undoubtedly magnificent; towards the east a tree-clad headland sloping down to the sea, the small curving bay a deep emerald green. On the other side the long crescent of sandy beach and behind the palms and chestnut trees the villas only partially visible. Mrs. Parmenter had chosen her site well and Caran was now determined to make the little cluster of villas a satisfactory Investment for her employer.

  For the next two or three days she called on the various firms and workmen concerned with the building of the two new villas and the redecorating of the others. In every case she was greeted with perfect courtesy, but there was a certain lack of enthusiasm. The painters said they were busy with many other orders and the villas must wait. The builders declared that they had no further instructions and could not complete unless they were paid by instalments whenever an amount of work was finished.

  Caran perceived that here again reluctance to work on the villas was obviously inspired by lack of confidence in being eventually paid.

  ‘I have authority to pay you as soon as the work is done,’ she told them all, and the foreman of the building firm agreed that he would come next day and assess what was to be started.

  Other firms expressed anxiety because she was only a young English girl who did not understand the situation. Two firms showed her unpaid bills outstanding from the early part of the summer. If these were
paid soon, they would consider doing further work.

  She wrote down particulars of all her calls and visits and one afternoon she worked on a long report for Mrs. Parmenter. She asked for the transfer of more money so that she could pay the outstanding bills and have something in hand for the most urgent jobs. Of Gabriela and her family occupying one of the villas she said nothing yet, for she hoped to be able to get them out within a short time.

  A shadow fell across the page she was typing. ‘Don Ramiro!’ She rose hastily from the little table where she had set her portable typewriter in the wide porch of the villa. ‘I wasn’t expecting you.’

  ‘I hope I am not unwelcome, for I see you are very busy,’ he said.

  ‘I’d practically finished,’ she told him. ‘Will you come in?’

  ‘I think I prefer to sit here.’ He pulled forward one of the wicker chairs from the corner of the porch.

  ‘Then may I offer you coffee or a glass of wine?’

  ‘Not yet. I came to see if you were settled here. Does everything go smoothly?’

  Caran grimaced. ‘I’m afraid it doesn’t. I’m finding all sorts of unexpected problems and troubles, but I’m sure I shall get them solved within a week or so.’

  ‘What sort of troubles?’ he queried.

  ‘There has been much bad management in the past and this makes it difficult to get things done now.’ She related her experiences with the various builders and painters.