“But there must be some reason. Perhaps I can help...”
“No, Mark.”
“Is it Mrs. Vining? I know she wants to line you up with Dominic...?”
“I said please don’t ask me, Mark.”
“Oh, all right. But I wish you could manage to laugh it off—whatever it is—and stay on. I’ll hate you to go. It’s been heaven, Chloe, having you here.”
The real emotion behind the light words surprised her. “Bless you, Mark. But I honestly feel I must go. It’s all become somehow complicated and difficult. I’m not going far, though. I thought of moving to the hotel here—then I could still, I hope, have access to the office and the darkroom.”
“Oh, well, in that case...” Mark allowed. That way, he saw a chance of enjoying rather more of her undiluted company that he ever did at Santa Clara. “I know the management there. Like me to telephone about a room?”
“Please do.”
“But Dominic isn’t going to be pleased, you know. I wonder what he’ll have to say when he hears,” Mark said as he lifted the telephone.
As she thought of what Dominic might say all Chloe’s nervous fears rushed back to overwhelm her.
Mark, it seemed, wasn’t having much success.
“Bad luck,” he told her as he replaced the receiver. “They’ve nothing vacant till the end of the month.”
“Then I must try to get some place in Sliema or Valetta.”
“Rather far from your darkroom and gear, isn’t it? And how about transport? Dominic’s going to object strongly, I don’t mind betting. Besides which he’s bound to conclude that you yearn for the bright lights, the social round, the fleet. He’ll probably blame my brother.”
“I know. But what else can I do?”
“Stay on here,” said Mark. He picked up the receiver again as the telephone rang.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” he remarked austerely to the voice at the other end. “Yes, she is. She’s here with me now, actually. I’m not sure I want her to talk to you. Oh, all right. Hold the line.”
Chloe took the receiver from him. She was laughing in spite of herself.
“Robert?... Yes ... no, I’m afraid I can’t manage Gozo today ... No, but you see I’m leaving here ... No, not the island, just Santa Clara. Yes, today if I can find a room to go to ... Never mind why, that’s my business, I can’t possibly tell you. Look, will you be an angel and come up here now? And then run me down to Sliema and Valetta and help me find a place to live? I expect you know alt the best ones. Not the Felicia, nothing so grand, I’m a working girl, remember ... What...? In Sliema? Why, that sounds as if it might be wonderful. Could we go and see them this morning...? Yes, I’m ready right now ... Of course I will, you really are an angel, Robert. What? Oh, nonsense, my dear. Goodbye.”
Her face looked happier as she turned to Mark.
“Robert knows of a room. He says he has some friends who have a big apartment in Sliema and want to rent their spare room to somebody congenial. They had his sister—the husband’s, I mean—for a while, but she’s just sailed for home. He likes his wife to have company when he’s at sea.”
“That’ll be the Soameses, I expect. Nice creatures. If anybody but my young brother had suggested it—no doubt for his own fell purposes—I’d say it was the very thing.”
“Me, too. I think I’ll risk the fell purposes,” Chloe said, laughing again. She knew very well that beneath all the banter Mark thought the world of Robert.
“H’m. But I still wonder what Dominic’s going to say.”
Just let me get it settled, Chloe thought, and does it matter much what he says? He can’t force me to stay on here. And a fait accompli’s an awfully hard thing to do much about.
When Robert turned up, half an hour later, he was clearly gratified at the warmth of his reception. So delighted did Chloe seem at seeing him that perhaps he could be forgiven for connecting her sudden, unexplained decision to move from Mdina with himself. His amatory experience had shown him no reason why not.
“I’ve called Freda Soames, and she says they’ll be delighted. She said to take you around for a pink gin arid see if you could bear each other. If you can, your room’s ready anytime. You can discuss the business side over the pink gin. I say, Chloe, it’s going to be wonderful having you there—so much more available.”
Chloe gave him an absent smile.
She was thinking how much more satisfactory it was going to be, when she explained to Dominic that she proposed to cut short her stay at Santa Clara, if she could say that friends had invited her to live with them in Sliema...
“I’m all ready,” she said, picking up her handbag. “Shall we go?”
Freda and Alaric Soames were a tall, fair, blue-eyed pair with such a family resemblance that Chloe wasn’t surprised to learn that they were second cousins.
They took one frankly assessing look at her, then hailed her with enthusiasm and said she was an answer to prayer.
Quickly, now, she packed her remaining possessions into the small overnight case she had carried with her on the plane. When everything was in she took a quick regretful look around the charming room that had A warm, salt-laden breeze fluttered the curtains. On the promenade with its wind-slanted pink-flowered tamarisks people strolled, children and dogs romped, cars sped by and sea gulls swooped and squawked.
A few hardy characters were bathing off the shallow ledges of rock below the promenade,, where the sea lapped pale green and very clear. Away across the water, four corvettes moving in line laid a foaming track on the blue.
“The furniture in these rented apartments is generally a bit grim,” Freda said. “But at least our bath is always piping hot. And we have rather a decent old cook, so you won’t starve.”
“I love this room,” Chloe told her.
“Good. Then if you think you could bear to come and live as one of the family, why, we’d love to have you.”
“Thank you very much,” Chloe said warmly. They talked finances for a while, and came to a satisfactory agreement. “May I come right away, this very afternoon?” she asked.
“But of course. As soon as you like. We’re going on board the submarine depot ship for cocktails this evening—Alaric’s in submarines, did you know? So you and Robert had better come along with us.”
From her cozy way of saying, “you and Robert,” Chloe could see that she was already romantically linked with him in her hostess’s mind. But did it matter? Robert would be away to sea in a week or two. And she would quite likely have left the island before he came back. Meanwhile, this was likely to be far pleasanter than any hotel could possibly be.
“Thank you, that’ll be fun,” she said amenably, and refrained from correcting any mistaken impression Freda might have about Robert and herself. Plenty of time for that when she knew her better.
Afterward over the pink gins, she was as gay and lively as she could manage to be, considering that at the back of her mind there was still this nagging worry over the unavoidable interview with Dominic.
It was a pity he was in the courtyard, seeing off an elderly man with a black gladstone bag who must surely be Dr. Galea, when Robert took her back just before one o’clock to Santa Clara. She saw the ironic lift of his black brows.
Hurriedly she told Robert, “Please don’t wait. Mrs. Vining is ill—excuse me if I don’t ask you to come in. I’ll be ready any time after four o’clock. Goodbye till then— and many, many thanks.”
“So long, darling. Till then,” Robert answered in rather too possessive a tone. Luckily, Dominic couldn’t possibly have heard.
When both cars had gone and they were alone, she asked him nervously, “How is your mother now?”
“A little better. She’s resting.”
“Oh—I’m so glad. I—may I speak to you, Dominic?” The gleam of humor lightened his eyes.
“If it’s as serious as you look, can we let it keep till after lunch? There’s the gong now. Come along in. I’m hungry.”
; To Chloe’s relief Louise didn’t appear, and neither Mark nor Dominic referred to the events of the previous night; she didn’t even know whether Mark had heard the story or not.
The talk was exclusively concerned with the dig. A new burial chamber had been found under the sanctuary. It was now being opened up, and the earth with which it was packed was yielding a rich haul of jars, implements, small statues and bones. The team was having an enthralling time with it.
“By the way, if you can spare the time we might take a look at those color slides this afternoon,” Dominic suggested when they reached the coffee stage of the meal.
“Of course. I’ll go now and get them ready.”
As Chloe set down her empty cup she noticed that her hand wasn’t quite steady. She wondered where all the poise on which generally she prided herself had gone since yesterday. The balcony business must have been more of a shock than she had realized.
She projected her color slides without mishap, however. Dominic was pleased, and praised them warmly. She started to dismantle her projector and pack the slides in their box.
“Well, now that’s over, would you like to ‘speak,’ Chloe?” Dominic asked with the flash of warmth and charm that was his smile.
“Please.”
“Well?”
She felt herself turn pale. “It’s—I wanted to tell you that I’m leaving Santa Clara.”
“Indeed? Why?”
“Well—as a matter of fact I’m going to stay with friends in Sliema. Th-thank you very much for having me here. They’ve asked me to go this evening,” she told him in a rush.
“I see.”
Oh, heavens, he’s furious, she thought. “Do you—mind?”
She hadn’t meant to ask him that, so baldly, but the words had spoken themselves.
He gave her a coldly considering look.
“Naturally I mind. I asked you to stay here for a special reason, as you know. This sudden departure is likely to cause me considerable inconvenience—and you, too, I imagine. However, you seem to have made your plans.”
Avoiding his eyes, she spoke quietly—though her heart was hammering so that she feared he must hear it. “It’s been very kind of you, letting me live here. But you see I would prefer to feel quite free and—independent during the rest of my short time in the island.”
“It isn’t necessary to elaborate. You’ve decided to leave Santa Clara, and I certainly can’t prevent you,” Dominic said. “Have you thought about how you’ll get to the dig?”
“I thought I might rent a car from one of the garages.”
“H’m. Expensive. You’d better take the Austin and park it near where you’re staying.”
“Thank you very much.”
“And what about the darkroom, your projecting work?”
“I thought I could still use the one at Santa Clara. And I would be here to project the slides whenever you wanted, of course.”
“It all sounds unnecessarily complicated. However, with the Austin I suppose you can come and go as required.”
She said diffidently, “I promise you I won’t let this—change of residence interfere in any way with my work.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
She was divided between relief at his making it so comparatively easy for her, and fear that there might be more to come. A sting, as it were, in the tail.
There was. It came a moment later.
But it wasn’t, as she feared it might be, a reference to the events of last night.
“You spoke of going to stay with friends,” he said, rather brusquely. “I was under the impression that when you came to Malta you knew no one in the island.”
“No, that’s true. I didn’t.”
“These, then, are new friends? People you’ve met since you came here?” he asked. He wasn’t looking at her. He was fiddling with the box of slides, turning them over, holding first one, then another, up to the light.
“Yes.”
“Do I know them, I wonder?”
“They’re called Soames. Lieutenant-Commander and Mrs. Soames. He’s in submarines. Mark knows them. They’re friends of...”
Her small flash of defiance tailed off. She particularly didn’t want to tell him whose friends they were. But of course he had guessed. She knew by the mockery in his eyes.
“Friends of...?”
“Of Robert Tenby.”
“Ah. I understand.”
Something caustic and cynical in his voice stung her to anger.
“You don’t. You don’t understand at all,” she flashed. “Or care!”
He said nothing, only looked at her, eyebrows raised.
“I beg your pardon,” she said at length. “I’m afraid I’m a little—upset. I shouldn’t have said that. But does it really matter very much if I live elsewhere? I’m twenty-three. Old enough to look after myself. And if my work doesn’t suffer—I’ve already promised you it won’t—you won’t really mind, will you? You won’t, please, insist on my staying at Santa Clara?”
When she lifted her eyes to meet his again, she was relieved to see that he was smiling.
“Don’t look so tragic, Chloe, please. I understand a good deal more than you think—though I would prefer not to discuss, now at any rate, what has happened here. But as long as your work continues to be efficient I agree I have no other claim on you. You must do exactly as you choose.”
She had the sensation of her heart dropping down, down. Instead of being delighted that she had got away with it so lightly, she was illogically miserable because he showed no sign of wanting to force her to change her mind.
Nothing, she thought, could have shown more plainly how little he cared about her—herself, as distinct from the work she did for him.
“You mustn’t think...” she began, then fell silent—for what more was there to say?
He surprised her by grinning.
“I’m not thinking—except that Nibblu had better tune up the car before you leave. Then Carmel can drive you down to Sliema, and find somewhere near your apartment Where you can park it.”
“It’s very, very kind of you.”
“Is it?”
She preferred not to tell him that Robert had been coming to fetch her. Better telephone and put him off, and go with Carmel as soon as the car was ready.
She held out her hand.
“So long, Dominic. Thank you for having me here.”
He let that pass. “See you on Monday, then, Chloe?”
“I’d like to send a message to your mother—to wish her a quick recovery.”
“I’ll say everything necessary on your behalf.”
“Please do—and give her my love.”
“She’ll miss you, Chloe. And so will I,” he added with the smile that had been her undoing from the start. Her heart was beating fast, too fast. Her hand, she found, was still in his, held fast.
“Oh...” she cried and, dragging it away, without another word turned and fled from the library.
Any more of that, she thought wildly as she ran up to her room, and I’d have been in his arms, telling him I’m in love with him. If he asks me to marry him I will jump at him...
Which was the last thing she wanted to say to a man who thought women were merely “an impediment to great enterprises—”
As she passed Mrs. Vining’s door she saw that for once it was closed. Angina, she thought soberly; poor, poor contessa. Guiltily she wondered if her running away like this would upset Dominic’s mother further. Remorsefully she promised herself to make time to visit her regularly, as soon as she was well enough for visitors.
Quickly, now, she packed her remaining possessions into the small overnight case she had carried with her on the plane. When everything was in she took a quick regretful look around the charming room that had been hers, went to the window for a last glance at the breathtaking view of island and sea and went downstairs to telephone Robert, arranging to meet him later at the apartment.
Only Mark was there to
see her off when Carmel brought the Austin around to the door.
CHAPTER NINE
Darkness falls swiftly in Malta. One moment the sun is striking sparks off the sea. The next it is sliding rapidly down toward the horizon, tinting the golden stone fortifications and buildings and turning the water to blood.
Then the shadows gather swiftly; the sea turns wine dark, then indigo...
It was already dark—but the darkness was luminous, silvered by the light of a bright moon—one evening when Chloe stood at her window, looking out at the scene. She had been some time at the apartment now and felt like one of the family.
She had just come from her bath—something to look forward to more and more, now that the weather was warming up, after the long dusty day at the dig. She was cooling off before dressing, as she liked to do.
The night was calm and windless, and agreeably warm. This was as it should be—for the aircraft carrier, due to depart shortly for an unspecified destination, was en fete, returning the hospitality its personnel had enjoyed during their time in the harbor.
A batch of invitations had been sent out for a supper and dance on board. Robert had sent cards to Chloe and the Soameses as well as Dominic, Louise and Mark.
Chloe’s feelings were a mixture of excitement and vague foreboding—of what, she couldn’t have said. She tried to forget the foreboding and concentrate on the glamorous evening ahead.
“It’ll be good,” Freda had assured her. “These rather grand naval affairs, with the admiral-in-chief and all the top brass there, usually are.”
Chloe had a new dress for it, one she had brought out with her and not yet had a chance to wear. It was a dream of amber chiffon and fine lace that fitted her figure closely and swirled into fullness below her hips.
There were slender stilt-heeled sandals to match and for jewelry an exquisite necklace and earrings of topaz, golden brown like her eyes, that had been Lady Stanton’s birthday present last year.
She couldn’t help knowing, as she studied her reflection in the mirror, curtsying to it so that her skirt billowed around her, that she had never looked better in her life.
She hoped, shamelessly, that Dominic would be there to see her. But then again she felt that sense of foreboding. She couldn’t forget he had told Louise, though not in so many words, that he meant to ask her to marry him. And that it wouldn’t be for love she was well aware.
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