Summer Comes to Albarosa

by Iris Danbury

  ‘And how will you deal with Paul? If you’re bored with him already, you won’t like the situation here.’

  ‘I think I can take care of that,’ Julie assured the other. ‘Actually, we might find each other quite useful, Paul and I. He’s a very astute business man and today he was telling me all his plans for the development of this place.’

  ‘Oh, I expect he wants to increase the number of villas. He’s spoken to me about that.’

  ‘Rather more than a few villas. Paul means to make Albarosa into the newest, most fashionable resort along this part of the coast. He says it’s just sitting here waiting for someone like him to come along and really start things sizzling.’

  Caran stared at her friend. ‘How does he propose to develop the place?’

  Julie turned her lovely brown eyes on Caran. ‘But, darling, surely you must know more about Paul’s plans than I do. Hasn’t he confided in you?’

  Caran shook her head.

  ‘I’m surprised,’ commented Julie. ‘I should have thought that you were completely in his confidence. Well, he wants to put up a couple of decent hotels for a start.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Oh, somewhere near here. On the beach anyway. That’s what people come for. But the hotels will have their own swimming pools, of course. An elegant little night-club or two, dancing—all the usual trimmings that drag a sleepy little town into the modern trend.’

  Caran was silent for a few moments. Then she burst out, ‘Why can’t he leave Albarosa alone? These villas are just right for visitors who want to get away from it all. If people want to go to Torremolinos or the Costa Brava, that’s where they go. They come here for peace and quietness, not upended matchbox hotels and noisy bars and smoke-filled nightclubs.’

  ‘Really, Caran!’ Julie’s eyebrows arched upwards. ‘What’s so upsetting about a modern holiday project? You’re not frightened of losing your job, are you? Good heavens, there’ll be the pick of some very plummy posts for you and me if we want them.’

  ‘Most likely. But I’m not sure that I want any part in destroying the natural charm of this place. Albarosa is unspoilt and I like it that way.’ She thumped her pillows as though she were pummelling an enemy. Paul, perhaps?

  Julie took her cue and switched out the lights. ‘Perhaps you’ve an idea that your friend Brooke might not like any new development and go elsewhere?’

  ‘What he does and where he goes is his affair,’ replied Caran. ‘He’s not here permanently anyway. When his irrigation job is finished, he’ll probably go off to another.’

  ‘Oh. I see,’ said Julie in her creamiest voice. ‘In that case I must make his acquaintance speedily before he flits off.’ Caran did not answer. She was too upset by this unexpected news of Paul’s plans for the ruin of Albarosa to care much about Julie’s campaign to become friendly with Brooke. Brooke must look after himself. If he became too involved with Julie that would be his responsibility.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Caran tackled Paul at the earliest opportunity, the following morning. She began quietly enough by saying, ‘I hear from Julie that you’ve quite ambitious plans in mind for the development of Albarosa.’

  ‘That’s right,’ he agreed. His plump face became animated. ‘Hotels, a row of shops perhaps, a little de luxe resort on its own with the town of Albarosa up on the hill. The odd thing is that no one has started already to modernise the place.’

  ‘Modernising nowadays usually means changing the whole character of the place. I thought all you wanted to do was build a few more villas.’

  Paul frowned. ‘Not profitable enough. Even if they were absolutely full all the year round, what do they hold? A mere handful of people. On the same amount of space we could build a smart hotel, four or five storeys, say, and we’d have a couple of hundred rooms at the least.’

  ‘Then Albarosa will be like any other resort, not only in Spain, but all over the Continent. Conventional hotels, swimming pools, everything for the package-tourists.’

  ‘But that’s what people want!’ declared Paul angrily. ‘And don’t despise package-tourists. They’re the life-blood of the holiday industry. They come by the plane-load, and what they want is a modern hotel down by the beach where they can swim when they choose, loll about in the sun, join up with holiday acquaintances for a drink or two in the evening. You have to remember that Spain has the climate tor that kind of holiday and at home in England we haven’t—or at least it’s not reliable enough. You can freeze sometimes in August.’

  ‘I understand all that, but why must every spot on the coast have to be the same? Wouldn’t it be an advantage to advertise that Albarosa is different?’

  Paul shrugged. ‘Not really.’

  ‘You mean there isn’t enough profit in it?’ She spoke mildly enough, but Paul sensed the underlying scorn in her voice.

  ‘Look, Caran, I don’t know why you’re so opposed to the scheme. You’re not worried about losing your job, are you?’

  He was echoing Julie’s view that there would be any amount of new jobs for those who wanted them. ‘No, that’s the last thing that worries me,’ she said evenly. She was aware that he was reminding her that she was a paid employee. ‘But whatever mv own views might be, I couldn’t object to any plans you have, could I? The decisions don’t rest with me.’

  ‘That’s true,’ he conceded. ‘All the same, I’d like to feel that you were on my side in all that we’re trying to do.’

  ‘I think you can always rely on me to carry out your instructions.’

  He laughed and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, come, Caran, I want something more than that. It will depress me to feel that all our future plans will only meet with your disapproval.’

  She smiled. ‘I wouldn’t put it so sweeping as that. I suppose it’s inevitable. No place as unspoilt as Albarosa can stay the same way indefinitely.’

  ‘Exactly. It must either move forward or decay. Now come into my villa and I can show you some of our plans.’

  There was no alternative but to follow him and perhaps it was better for her to know as much as possible about the future. Or at least as much as Paul was willing to tell her.

  On the table in his living room he took out a bundle of maps and architects’ plans. ‘Now here are our five villas and over there the two still being built.’ He pointed to their position on the map. ‘Now the most attractive way to develop would be to the north along this inlet.’

  ‘Where the two new villas are?’ she queried.

  ‘Yes, more or less.’

  Caran’s hopes rose. A new hotel on that site would not be conspicuous, for the sloping ground would hide most of it except from the sea.

  ‘But the big snag is the land. My aunt doesn’t really own the land on which our villas are built. She has a concession for ten years, after which it could be renewed, but only at the discretion of the owner.’

  ‘Something like a lease?’

  Paul nodded. ‘Something like that, but the property laws here are slightly different from those at home. That’s one of the many reasons why I’m here. I have to negotiate with the owner not only of our piece, but the site along the spit of shore which juts out.’

  ‘And is that difficult?’

  ‘Almost impossible, so far. You see, there’s a rival concern that also wants to build hotels right in this same place.’

  ‘Poor Albarosa!’ she murmured gently. ‘Between these various industrial factions, this little town’s fate is sealed.’

  ‘But think what prosperity all this will bring to the town! Shops and cafes and all kinds of small tradesmen will benefit.’

  ‘Yes, I know they will.’ Caran had a sudden vision of Felipe, Gabriela’s husband. Would more prosperity enable him to get a better job and house his family more adequately?

  Paul’s attention was again on the drawings. ‘This plot of land is the one we want. You see what a wonderful situation it is? By building the first hotel on the north side of the jutting strip, we cou
ld then in due course build another or extend the first across the neck of the peninsula and the customers would have the choice of two beaches. M’m, that wouldn’t be a bad name for such a hotel. What’s the Spanish for Peninsula?’

  ‘Peninsula,’ Caran told him with a laugh.

  ‘Yes, that sounds good. Hotel Peninsula. Well, we’re running way ahead. First thing is to obtain the land.’

  ‘Have you good hopes of succeeding?’ she asked.

  ‘Not really, but if we can’t get exactly what we want, we might find other ways of compromising.’

  ‘Don Ramiro is an influential man around these parts. Couldn’t he help?’

  Paul’s head shot up with a jerk. ‘Den Ramiro? You’re joking!’ He gave her a long, appraising stare. Then he said thoughtfully, ‘He might be able to help us in some way. I’ve an idea. I’ll try to fix a visit to him within the next few days and I’ll take you and Julie along with me. How about that?’

  ‘In Almeria?’ she queried.

  ‘Yes. His villa here is shut.’

  Caran became slightly uneasy. She wished now that she had not mentioned Don Ramiro. By suggesting that he could help Paul in some way, she had aligned herself with Paul and his projects, which had been far from her intention.

  ‘What am I expected to do on this visit?’ she asked.

  ‘Do? Nothing at all. It’s merely a social visit.’

  She discounted that. She guessed that Paul wanted to take both girls along to make it look like a social visit, but, if opportunity offered, he would persuade Don Ramiro to engage in a business discussion.

  Paul rolled up his drawings and sketches and for a few minutes he and Caran discussed other details in connection with the villas. As she turned to leave he asked, ‘Where did you go yesterday?’

  ‘Brooke took me to a village in the mountains for a special fiesta,’ she answered casually.

  ‘Brooke? Oh, you mean Eldridge.’ Paul smiled. ‘Yes, I’d forgotten he was also known hi re as Senor Brooke.’

  Caran felt her face redden. ‘You’d already gone out or I’d have asked your permission for the clay off, of course,’ she said.

  He waved his hand to brush away such a ludicrous idea. ‘You’re free to go out when you choose.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she muttered, and hurried out of the villa.

  She wondered sometimes how to take Paul. His attitudes were changeable and his remarks were not always to be taken at their face value. Did he now also mean that she was free to go out with whom she chose? She had taken that for granted, of course, within reason, bur since Julie’s appearance, Paul had spent much of his time taking Julie out and about. Caran saw no reason why she should refuse invitations because they did not come from Paul.

  It occurred now to her that if Paul was trying to arrange a visit to Don Ramiro, she ought to find out how matters stood with Gabriela and Felipe. She might find an opportunity of jogging his memory about helping them to find new accommodation.

  She went to the Villa Cristal and was surprised that none of the children was playing outside. The outer door was firmly shut. She knocked, but no sound came from within. Then she noticed the large key hanging on a nail in the porch. She had not thought to bring her own bunch.

  Inside, the villa was clean and tidy. No sign of litter anywhere, the bedding was neatly folded on each bed, the flower vases had been washed and polished.

  Caran stood in the living room astonished. Idly she ran a finger over the polished dining table and there was no mark of dust. In the kitchen a tap dripped and she made a mental note to have a new washer fixed; the refrigerator had been switched off and the door left ajar.

  Where had Gabriela and her family gone? And when? Caran could only suppose that they had moved out yesterday when she was out for the day. Surely otherwise, Gabriela would have come and told Caran that she had found accommodation.

  Caran returned to her own villa for the inventory. She had no doubts about Gabriela’s honesty, but for the sake of good business management, she must check that all the furniture and equipment remained in the Villa Cristal. Then there would be no misunderstanding or confusion if queries arose and Gabriela and Felipe could not be blamed for shortages or damage.

  Everything was intact and in order, she found. Indeed, there was one item that did not appear on her inventory, a small rag doll lying on a bedroom window-sill. She picked it up, wondering to which of the smaller children it had belonged.

  There was no point in asking Brooke for information where Gabriela had gone. He was sure to be away on the irrigation site, for he had to make up for yesterday’s outing, so he had told her. But there were two other people who would surely know, Benita and Felipe.

  First she must tell Paul that the villa was free.

  ‘And about time, too,’ he said. ‘I wasn’t going to let them have much more rope. I told them a week ago that it was their last chance and if they didn’t get out, I’d have them put out—by the police if necessary.’

  ‘Oh. Paul! It wasn’t necessary to threaten them like that!’ Caran’s tone was one of shocked surprise. ‘They were doing their best.’

  ‘They had no right to occupy the villa in the first place,’ he retorted. ‘It was rather too easy, with that old biddy, the mother, having the keys and being able to do as she liked during the winter.’

  Caran turned away. ‘They were desperate,’ she murmured.

  ‘Desperate they might be—probably still are, but it’s not our pigeon. We’re not in business to rescue homeless Spanish families, however deserving.’ After a pause he moved towards her and thrust an arm around her shoulders. ‘Cheer up, Caran. There’s no need for you to be so anxious about them. Let’s both be glad they’ve gone without any unpleasantness.’ He planted a swift kiss on her check, and at that moment Julie came through the porch and into the living room.

  ‘Oh, sorry! Have I interrupted something?’ she enquired. ‘I’ll disappear if you want to continue the touching little scene.’

  Caran immediately broke away from Paul’s grasp. ‘You’re welcome to stay,’ she told Julie with a smile. ‘Paul and I occasionally have our unbusinesslike moments.’ She was astounded to hear her own voice saying these unexpected words. What had possessed her to pretend that her relationship with Paul was not always on a purely business level?

  ‘I went along to the end villa where this fascinating irrigation man lives,’ Julie said, flopping into an armchair, ‘but his place is all shut up. What’s happened?’

  Caran smiled. ‘Remember that he works sometimes. He’s probably up in the hills somewhere, paddling about among his waterways. Did you want specially to see him?’

  Before she answered Julie cast an upward glance at Paul, then lowered her long lashes. ‘I thought he might be amusing to talk to. With you two engrossed in your business affairs all the time, nothing very exciting seems to be going on.’

  Julie’s heavy emphasis on the words ‘business affairs’ did not escape Caran’s notice, but it was better not to argue about that with Paul still in the room. Instead she pointed out, ‘You and Paul were out gadding yesterday, and so was I, come to that.’ Caran smiled disarmingly. ‘We have to work part of the time—same as Brooke.’

  Paul fidgeted with some of the papers on his dining table. Since Julie’s entrance he had appeared ill at ease. Now he said, ‘I’ll go out and see how the men are getting on with the painting. Now that the squatters have gone, we can make a start on that villa soon.’

  As soon as he was clear of the porch, Julie let out a long peal of laughter. ‘Oh, poor Paul!’ she exclaimed when she could sneak. ‘Went off like a scalded cat! Just as though I care if he makes a few passes at you, dear Caran, on the side.’

  Caran felt the swift colour mount into her face. ‘I don’t suppose you do, but then I’m not concerned if he flirts with you either. I’m not at all enamoured of him.’

  ‘That’s a comfort to us all.’ Julie rose from the armchair. ‘I shouldn’t like to see you get in too de
ep with him. He’s a philanderer if ever I saw one, but at the same time he could be quite useful.’

  ‘You mean in giving us well-paid and exciting lobs?’

  Julie made a small grimace. ‘Jobs come into it, of course, but I wasn’t thinking so much of work.’

  Caran laughed. ‘I’ll bet you weren’t I You and real work always prefer to pass by on the other side of the street.’

  Julie’s head went up. ‘I deny that. I’ve worked hard in my time. Acting and modelling are strenuous, and as for that year I spent in journalism, I was simply rim off my feet.’ Caran grinned. ‘That year in journalism amounted to about three weeks. You thought you were going to interview the famous and potter about at Ascot and the paper sent you to cover obscure weddings and funerals.’

  It was true that Julie had experimented with a variety of occupations. After the course at drama school she had failed to secure anything but a walk-on part in a play that closed after a fortnight. A spell of modelling for a fashion house was followed by a short stint on a weekly paper. After that she drifted into free-lancing for various photographers, demonstrating fashions or knitting patterns, walking on springy carpets or basking in the warmth of efficient central heating.

  Caran’s opinion was that in this last category of jobs, Julie had achieved her greatest success. Her shining red-gold hair, brown eyes and dazzling smile were all entirely photogenic and her personality came over on the printed pages of magazines.