“It’s very important that you tell the truth, Danielle. I won’t be cross with you if you do, but I shall be cross if you fib to me. How did you manage to get the bottle out of the medicine chest?”
“I didn’t.”
“Did you drink it?”
“No, I didn’t, really I didn’t. I’m telling the truth, really I am,” and two large tears slid down her cheeks. I put my arm around her shoulders. “ There’s nothing to cry about, Danielle. Come on down for breakfast. Peggy has made you some scrambled eggs.”
She slipped her hand in mine. “ You do believe me, don’t you? I wouldn’t lie to you, really I wouldn’t.”
I squeezed her hand. “Well, if you remember taking your medicine or how you got it, you will tell me, won’t you?”
“I will, honest I will. You’re not cross with me, are you?”
“Silly one, of course not. I just wish you could remember that’s all.”
“I don’t remember. I don’t remember even dreaming it!”
She was just as adamant when her father questioned her. With a sigh he let her go, saying to me:
“Last night has frightened her. She won’t even admit to drinking it, let alone tell us how she reached it. I think we will regard the subject as closed, making sure in future that the medicine chest is kept locked.”
Miserably I wandered down the beach. The only person who would make me feel better was Steve, and there were ten hours before I would have the benefit of his good sense and cheerfulness.
The sand was hot in the blaze of the sun and I quickly changed into my costume, wading out into the welcome coolness of the sea. I swam out towards the yacht, lonely and splendid in the centre of the bay, its dazzling white hull reflected in the clear depths of the water. A mere puff of breeze carried the sharp tang of lemon and the sweetness of the pines. I rolled onto my back, floating blissfully.…
Ian Lyall, in jeans and tee-shirt, was sitting on the beach when turned shorewards.
“Enjoy your swim?” he asked.
“Yes,” I slipped my beach wrap round my shoulders, conscious of his eyes on my body. He stood up.
“I didn’t mean to sound insulting this morning.”
I didn’t say anything, simply picked up my clothes and began to walk towards the cliff path. He followed me.
“It was quite a genuine question. It isn’t always easy to remember distinctly doing something you always do out of habit. Do you know what I mean?”
“Yes,” I said. “I know what you mean. You mean did I leave that bloody bottle on the bedside table and the answer is no!”
There was a brief silence as we negotiated the steep steps that wound up through the thickest part of the trees, then he said:
“What did you mean about me not wanting you to come here?”
I could hardly admit to eavesdropping, however unintentional. I said: “ You’ve made it quite obvious.”
“Have I?” he seemed bemused. “I thought I’d been friendly.”
“You watch me behind my back.”
“I like you.”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”
We were rounding a curtain of sweet smelling jasmine.
“Then perhaps this is a better way,” and before I realised what he intended, he had swung me round, taking me in his arms and kissing me, the white petals scattering over my head and shoulders. For a second I was too surprised to even react, then I pushed him away indignantly, saying:
“When I want to be kissed I’ll give some indication of it!”
He grinned, the sunlight glinting on his red hair. “Please do. It was a very enjoyable experience!”
For a second I was tempted to slap his face, then I turned angrily away, pushing past thickets of wild roses and myrtle, letting the branches spring back against him as I increased speed. He kept pace with me easily, saying as if nothing had happened: “Helena has asked me remind you about the party tonight. Last night put it completely out of her head. She couldn’t remember if she had mentioned it to you or not.”
“Leonie mentioned it last night.”
“When? You weren’t at dinner.”
“She came in while I was bathing Danielle.”
“Did she? What did she say?”
“That there was to be a party and that most likely I would be asked to bring Steve.”
“Will you?”
“If I’m asked.”
“Of course you’re asked. What do you think I’m doing now?”
“I thought it was the Van de Naude’s party?” I said icily.
He laughed. “We’re all one big family, hadn’t you noticed?”
“Yes,” I said breathlessly as we rounded the curve at the top of the cliffs and stepped out into the dappled shade of the terrace. “So Leonie told me.”
“It would help if you didn’t invite Steve. From a personal point of view.”
David Katjavivi and John Van de Naude were sat by the pool deep in talk. Ignoring Ian, and clutching my beach wrap round me, I walked hurriedly past them and into the villa. Ian remained standing in the shade of the pines. When I looked out of my bedroom window he was still there, smoking a cigarette and staring thoughtfully out to sea.
There was a soft knock on the door. I opened it to Helena Van de Naude. She came into the room, showing no trace of the anxiety of the previous night.
“Danielle is fine, Lucy. I let her off her lessons this morning, but you can take her out this afternoon.”
She wandered over to the window and I saw her smile, but whether at her husband or Ian Lyall I couldn’t tell.
“Did I ask you about the party?” she said, turning back towards me.
“No, but both Leonie and Ian have mentioned it.”
“It won’t be very large, but I thought it would be nice to have one while David is here and before John leaves.”
“I didn’t know Mr Van de Naude was leaving?” I said surprised.
She sat down on the edge of my bed, hugging her knees to her chest.
“It’s the culmination of years of work, Lucy. John is going back to Africa and politics.”
“Africa?” I asked amazed. The situation was never discussed in the villa, but I knew enough from what Uncle Alistair had told me, to know that John Van de Naude’s career in South Africa was at an end.
“Ovambia,” she said, eyes glowing. “ My country. For years we have struggled for self rule, but always the argument has been that we are not ready for it, that we have no suitable leader acceptable to both blacks and whites. There can be no such excuse if John is Premier. The western powers know and trust him. He proved himself politically capable years ago in South Africa. The Ovambian people know and trust him. It’s the perfect solution! Next week, in Lusaka, there is to be a summit conference and the other African states will vote on it. The answer is bound to be yes. Otherwise Ovambia will go on being ruled solely by whites and no-one wants that. It will only lead to eventual bloodshed. America and Britain want a peaceful solution and this way they will have one!” She rose, pacing restlessly across the room. “ We’ve worked for this for so long I can hardly believe it’s actually within our grasp!” She swung round. “You’ll come with us, won’t you?”
“To Ovambia?” I asked, startled.
“Yes. It’s beautiful out there. There’s no other country in the world like Africa.”
“Yes,” I said rashly. “I’ll come.” After all, anything would be better than Crailsham Place.”
“Good! And you’ll bring Steve tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Super. Leonie is bringing her new boyfriend.” Then she said prophetically: “ I’ve a feeling tonight is going to be a night to remember!”
Chapter Nine
I took Danielle to Puerto Soller after lunch. It wasn’t too far and it was a lively sea-side resort with plenty to keep her amused. She teetered along the harbour wall, an ice-lolly in one hand, the other balancing on my shoulder.
“You know last ni
ght? When I was sick?”
“Yes,” I said, hoping she was going to make a confession.
“Well I told David about that silly old medicine and he said it wasn’t there when I went to sleep.”
I had forgotten all about David Katjavivi’s promise to tell her a bedtime story. I said: “ Did David come into you last night?”
She nodded. “ David always comes and tells me stories. He tells nice stories. He doesn’t read them from a book. He just tells them.”
“Then you must have taken the bottle out of the medicine chest after David had said goodnight to you.”
“I didn’t. I fell asleep while David was with me. I felt ever so funny and my head was heavy and I fell asleep. You ask him.”
“Yes,” I said. “I will.”
I didn’t get a chance to speak to David Katjavivi until Danielle was in bed and the party practically underway. He was stringing fairylights between the pine trees that shaded Mario’s carefully arranged barbecue. “Hello,” I said “I wonder if I could have a quick word with you?”
He beamed down at me. “What is it you want to talk about? Ovambia?”
In the short time he had been at the villa he had talked about little else.
“No. It’s about Danielle.”
“Danielle?” He threaded the last of the lights through the branches, surveyed his handiwork and said: “What about Danielle?”
“You know about the medicine incident last night?”
He nodded. “I slept through it all but John has told me.”
“I left Danielle about seven. I had a bad headache and went straight to bed. Before I left her, I gave her a spoonful of medicine and her hot chocolate. I put the medicine back in the medicine chest in the bathroom. It doesn’t lock, but it’s out of a child’s reach and nothing but the medicine and elastoplast and ointment are kept in it. When I went in to have a look at her about two o’clock, the medicine bottle was on the table by her bed. It was empty. It’s possible she reached the medicine chest by standing on a chair but none of the chairs were out of place and.…”
“Yes,” he prompted.
“Danielle denies taking it. She says you went in to her after I had left her. That you told her stories and that she fell asleep while you were still with her.”
“That’s right,” he said. “She was tired, couldn’t keep her eyes open.”
“Was there anything on the bedside table then?”
“Yes. A book.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“Thank you,” I said, my mouth unnaturally dry.
When I told Steve he didn’t attach any importance to it.
“Stop worrying. It’s obvious what happened. She woke up and began playing about like kids do. She drank the medicine all right, but when she realised how serious everyone was taking it decided the safest thing to do was play dumb. Beats me why they make kids medicine so it tastes like raspberries or whatever. I doubt if it would have harmed her much even if you hadn’t gone in to her.”
“She scared me to death.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “ Forget it. Seems like the Van de Naudes have done. What’s this party for tonight?”
“No real reason. Helena thought it would be nice to have one while David Katjavivi is here and before John Van de Naude leaves for Lusaka.”
“What’s Katjavivi like?”
“Very nice. Danielle adores him.”
“Isn’t he in the thick of the Freedom for Ovambia movement?”
“They all are. Helena Van de Naude is an Ovambian herself. She’s hoping John is going to be the next Premier.”
“The next what?” Steve asked, laughing.
“Premier. The country is about to be given its independence.”
“I think she’s being a little optimistic,” Steve said wryly. “I can’t see a black African nation accepting a White South African as its first Premier, can you?”
I laughed. “ It does seem a bit bizarre, but apparently the Ovambian people know and trust him, and because of his political status in previous years, so do the Western powers. Helena says it’s a perfect solution.”
Steve shook his head. “ The United Nations established a council to administer Ovambia years ago. The system works. There’s no need to change it.”
“David Katjavivi and the Van de Naudes don’t agree.…”
Guests had already begun to arrive. David Katjavivi, magnificent in a scarlet robe, was talking earnestly with John Van de Naude and Ian Lyall. As we entered the room, Ian turned, his eyes moving over me in blatant appreciation. I turned my back on him, saying to Steve: “Could I have a pernod with lots of ice please?”
“Where’s Leonie and the new boyfriend?” Steve asked, as a party of four people I had never seen before, eased themselves past us towards the bar.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since breakfast. When she does come we’re bound to notice. Knowing Leonie she’ll make a spectacular entrance.”
“Do I detect some bitchiness?” Steve asked with a grin. “Come on. Let’s take our drinks and find a quiet corner.” Taking my hand he led me through the clusters of guests and out onto the terrace. We strolled past the swimming pool to the woods and the cliff path.
The music from the party drifted down through the trees as we began to walk slowly towards the sea. His grip on my hand tightened.
“I shall be leaving Majorca soon, Lucy.”
I said awkwardly, knowing he wanted me to say more: “ I’m sorry.”
The woods were still and silent now, the moonlight streaming through the branches in a trail of silver. He turned me round to face him.
“Is that all? No protests? No asking me to stay?”
“Of course I would like you to stay, Steve.…”
“But it’s not a matter of life and death?”
I said gently: “ I’m not in love with you, Steve.”
The darkness of the trees hid the expression on his face. For a few seconds he said nothing, and then, firmly and strongly, he took me in his arms and kissed me passionately. For a brief second I could feel myself weaken, his kiss aroused desire in me and I liked him. I liked him very much. But he wasn’t Max, and the feeling I felt wasn’t love.
Gently I eased myself away from him. “ It’s too soon for me, Steve. I need a lot of time before I become seriously involved again.”
His hand still held the nape of my neck, forcing my eyes to meet his in the darkness.
“I’m not in the habit of falling in love with the girls I take out. Now that I have done, I’m going to be very persistent. I love you, Lucy. I want you to join me after I leave Majorca.”
“Join you where?”
He shrugged. “ I don’t know yet. It could be your choice. I’m not tied like a lot of people are.” In the moonlight I saw him smile briefly. “I’m what is known as financially independent. And I’m used to getting what I want. What I want now is you. I think, given a little more time, that I can change your mind.”
Pulling me closer, wrapping his arm around my waist, we began to walk silently back towards the party and the lights and the music and laughter.
As we emerged from the dark tunnel of trees, Ian Lyall’s eyes met mine. The expression in them was not pleasant. He looked quickly away again, continuing to pour drinks and I was angry with myself for the reaction I felt. If I wanted to walk in the darkness of the woods with Steve Patterson, surely it was my business and no-one else’s?
Helena Van de Naude, her hair wound glossily in the nape of her neck, was dancing with a distinguished looking man with a luxuriant white beard. There was still no sign of Leonie.
“I wonder where she is?” I asked Steve. “ She seemed to be quite looking forward to it when she spoke to me yesterday.”
“I thought Leonie was too blasé to show pleasure in anything.”
“She’s bringing her new boyfriend. I gather he’s quite a piece de resistence!”
We threaded our way through
dancing couples and across to the buffet.
“Can you see Katjavivi anywhere?” Steve asked. “I’d like a word with him.”
“No, and that’s plenty,” I said, as he piled my plate high with prawn vol au vents and little pastries crammed with chicken and shells full of lobster and crab. He handed me a glass of champagne.
“Let’s find a quiet corner to sit in.…”
There was a fresh outburst of greetings and an undercurrent of excitement as people’s attention was focused on some new arrivals. A massive woman in a gown of velvet purple and a large fur stole stood immediately in front of me and I couldn’t see.
“Who is it, Steve?”
He grinned. “Leonie, making her entrance as you said she would.”
Over a fur clad shoulder I caught a brief glimpse of Leonie, her hair burnished to gold, her dress a floating swirl of pastel chiffon, looking incredibly beautiful and fragile.
“She’s certainly causing a sensation.”
“Not on her own account. She’s brought some guests.”
The buxom lady in front of me moved and I knew then why Leonie had been so looking forward to tonight.
Across the crowded room I could see quite clearly. Leonie was introducing her guest to John Van de Naude and it was on her that the attention was centred. She was tall and slim, wearing a perfectly cut black dress, her only jewels a large glittering diamond and broad gold band on her left hand. Blue-black hair swung silkily to her shoulders, and as she smiled at John Van de Naude, the light caught the finely chiselled cheek-bones and the perfect curve of her mouth.
My mouth was dry, the blood throbbing in my temples. Huge dark eyes left John Van de Naude’s face and scanned the room. I turned quickly, but not quick enough. Her smile widened in recognition. I saw her say something briefly to Leonie and then she was weaving her way towards me, arms outstretched, saying huskily:
“Lucy! What a lovely surprise! I had no idea you were in Majorca.”
Somehow I managed a smile. “Steve, let me introduce you. Steve Patterson. Claudette Claustre.” It was as much as I could say, my throat had tightened so I could hardly speak.
Claudette shook hands with Steve and flicked a wing of hair back over her shoulder.
Vengeance in the Sun Page 6
