The Wings of Love

by Sally Wentworth

  During their conversation the soft, liquid whine of the washing machine had sounded in the background, but now it stopped and Crispin Fox stood up. 'Sounds as if your things are finished; I'll put them in the dryer.'

  Tressy let him do it; she wasn't going to jump up and offer to do it instead just to save him trouble. He stepped down into the cabin, and as soon as he was out of sight, she picked up Uncle Jack's card from under her glass and tossed it over the side; it was a relationship she definitely didn't want to encourage. Since she had seen Crispin Fox her feelings had changed completely, from wanting to help Nora to being absolutely dead against it, sure that her cousin would never find real happiness with him, even if something did come of it. But from the way he had recoiled when he saw the Sinclairs walking en masse along the quay, it was quite possible that she was also doing Crispin a favour by disposing of the card.

  'The stain seems to have come out of your dress okay.'

  She hadn't heard him come back and she jumped guiltily. Oho Good.' He was standing in the cabin doorway, looking down at her, and she didn't like it or the way he was looking at her. Getting to her feet, she moved across the cockpit, away from him. 'Do you ever take the boat out, or is it just a stationary status symbol?' she demanded, resorting to rudeness because he made her feel ill at ease.

  'What exquisite manners you have,' he observed sardonically, crossing his arms and leaning back against the bulkhead. 'Tell me, are you like this to everyone, or is it just me you've taken a particular dislike to?'

  Tressy flushed and was glad her face was in shadow so that he couldn't see it. 'I don't intend to crawl to you just because you've got money, if that's what you mean. Although I suppose that's what you're used to,' she added jeeringly.

  'No, it isn't what I meant,' Crispin corrected her, his voice hardening. 'It's possible to have self-respect whatever your position in life, so long as you do your job to the best of your ability. But you seem to have a chip on your shoulder a mile wide.'

  'I'm not jealous of your money,' Tressy retorted hotly.

  'But you're the one who brought up the subject,' he pointed out.

  Goaded, she blurted out, 'Well, maybe it's just your type I don't like.'

  'Oh?' He straightened up and moved slowly towards her until he was only a few inches away, his eyes daring her to be rude again. 'And just what is my type?' he demanded menacingly.

  Cornered, Tressy said the first thing that came into her head, so maybe it was even the truth. 'Male,' she answered acidly.

  'What?' His eyebrows flew up in astonishment. 'Don't tell me you're a man-hater? No, I don't believe it. You couldn't be-not with that face and that figure.' His eyes went over her body appraisingly and returned to search her face. 'No way,' he told her decidedly. ' You're the type who can twist men round their little finger. Some men,' he amended.

  'But not you?' Tressy couldn't resist asking, because he had left himself wide open to it.

  He grinned, and she realised that she had also left herself wide open to any scathing remark he cared to make, and she tensed to retaliate, but he surprised her by merely giving a brief nod. 'As you say-not me.'

  Feeling that the whole conversation was getting out of hand, she tried to end it by saying, 'Would you mind seeing if my dress is ready yet? It should be dry by now, surely.'

  Crispin's grin widened and he shook his head at her in mock disillusionment. 'Now you've disappointed me.'

  Tressy looked at him suspiciously. 'Really? Why?' Reaching out a hand, he put a finger under her chin and lifted her head so that she was looking directly into his face, his dark eyes full of mocking amusement. 'Never start something that you can't finish. And especially something that you know you're never going to win,' he added derisively.

  Angrily she jerked her head away and marched past him down into the galley section. The spin-dryer was still going round, but she switched it off and jerked the door open, taking her things out before it had even stopped spinning properly. Her dress was still a little bit damp, but she locked herself in the cabin and pulled it on in a rage. The insufferable man! Just who the hell did he think he was? My God, any woman with any sense at all ought to enter a convent for life rather than have anything to do with him. And as for Nora marrying him ... Tressy shuddered at the thought and determined to rescue her cousin from her own folly. Even if Nora didn't thank her now she was bound to later when she got over this schoolgirl crush she'd got on him. For that was all it could be, had to be.

  The damp dress clung to her a little, but Tressy didn't notice, although Crispin obviously did when she strode on deck, her face stiff with scarcely controlled anger.

  'Couldn't you even wait five minutes for it to dry?' Tressy didn't even bother to reply, just collected up her bag and made for the gangway, but found him barring her way. 'Do you mind?' she demanded shortly.

  'Going somewhere?' 'Home.' She glared at him.

  'But haven't you forgotten something? I'm paying for the taxi.'

  She had forgotten, and now she wished wholeheartedly that she could afford to tell him what to do with his taxi fare. But the last bus had gone and it must be a walk of several miles to the villa. For a moment she toyed with trying to hitch a lift, but she didn't fancy risking it at this time of night in a foreign country. Crispin's lips thinned into a crooked grin as he watched her, almost as if he was reading her thoughts. And he deliberately waited for her to concede.

  'Damn you! Why the hell did it have to be you?' He laughed and looked down at her mutinous face, caught in the light of a nearby lamp. 'Your eyes are all wrong,' he remarked, completely throwing her.

  'Why, what's wrong with them?' Automatically she lifted a hand, thinking that her mascara had run.

  But her hand stilled as he said, 'They're blue. They ought to be green with that shade of hair-and your kind of temper,' he tacked on mockingly, to let her know it wasn't a compliment.

  Tressy bit her lip and held out her hand. 'If you'll give me the money for the taxi, then I'll go. You obviously don't want me around any longer, and I certainly don't want to stay. As far as I'm concerned the sooner I see the last of you, the better!' .

  'But meeting you has been quite an experience.' He made no attempt to give her any money and Tressy lowered her hand, feeling ridiculous.

  'You mean meeting one of the working class?' she asked scathingly. 'The other half?'

  'Oh, but I work for my money, too, you know.' 'Humph!' Tressy gave a snort of disbelief.

  'No, I meant that of all the girls there are on the Riviera at the moment I had to run into you. A crazy, mixed-up female who doesn't even have the grace to be polite,' he told her disparagingly-adding cruelly, 'Who deliberately takes her bitterness out on complete strangers. 1 don't know which man got to you or what he did, but you're going to develop into an even worse shrew if you don't soon learn to grow up and face reality,' he finished grimly.

  The colour had drained from her face, but somehow, probably just as a silent denial of his accusations, she managed to hold on to her temper. Pushing past him, she strode across the gangplank and hurried down the quay towards the town, hardly aware of where she was going. So mad that she wanted to hit out at somebody.

  There were some taxis waiting in the Boulevard Albert at the end of the quay. Tressy saw them, but turned in the other direction, intending to start walking to Cap Martin, but Crispin Fox caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. 'There's a taxi over there.'

  'Let go of me!' Tressy furiously tried to shake him off. 'I don't care if I have to walk all the way home, I'm not going to take a penny of your beastly money from you!'

  'So you've a little pride at least.' He swung her round to face him and saw that her eyes were wet. His voice softened as he said, 'Come on. You can't possibly walk all that way.' And he began to draw her towards the cab rank.

  'You go to hell, Fox!' She tried to fight him off. 'I don't want your lousy charity.'

  Keeping a firm hold on her arm, he whistled at the leading taxi and it
drove over, the driver looking at them with interest. 'Take the lady to Menton. What's the name of your hotel?'

  'Let go of me, you rotten beast!' She tried to kick him as he opened the taxi door and propelled her inside.

  'Tut, tut, such temper! She'll tell you the name of the hotel when you get going,' he told the driver, passing over several notes. 'This should cover it.' He still held her arm, but now he pushed her right inside. 'Goodbye, you little vixen. You know, you never did tell me your name.'

  'Mind your own damn business!' Tressy slammed the door and he had to jump back out of the way, but the effect was spoiled a little because the window was open, and she heard him laugh. 'You're the most horrible man I've ever met,' she declared passionately. 'And if I never meet you again it'll be too soon!'

  His face hardened at her nastiness. 'And that goes for me too,' he assured her with feeling.

  The taxi pulled away, but Tressy didn't look back.

  She was so mad at the way Crispin Fox had treated her that she could cheerfully have strangled him. For a few lovely minutes she indulged in all the things she'd like to do to him and thought now, too late, of all the things she could have said, but then the driver interrupted this pleasant occupation by asking where she wanted to go.

  'What? Oh.' She gave him the address of the villa. 'Not Menton, mademoiselle?'

  She shook her head, and he shrugged and turned back to concentrate on his driving. It was gone two o'clock, but there was still plenty of traffic about and lots of the cafes in the town were still open, but things quietened down as they left Monaco and took the coast road to Cap Martin.

  Thank goodness she'd never have to see him again, Tressy thought. Keeping her promise to Uncle Jack was going to be the easiest thing in the world, and she would do her best to make sure Nora saw as little of Crispin as possible, too. Throwing away that address card might do some good; though she had to admit that someone of Aunt Grace's social ambition and pushiness wouldn't be put off when Crispin Fox didn't phone or return their visit. But it might give Tressy a little leeway, and in that time she would have to try and turn Nora's thoughts on to other things.

  She was still trying, in vain, to think of something that would distract Nora from her fascination for Crispin when the taxi pulled up at the entrance gates to the villa. She got out and turned to thank the driver, to find that he was holding some money out to her.

  'The extra. To Menton. This is what you arrange, no?'

  So he thought she'd given the false address to get some money out of Crispin. But she'd meant it when she'd said she didn't want his money. Drawing herself up, she gave an airy wave of her hand and said loftily, 'You keep it.'

  Feeling better after her grand gesture, Tressy walked down the steep driveway to the villa, only to be met by an irate aunt and uncle who demanded to know where she'd been and whether she knew what the time was. But she had no fear of her relations and had had just about as much as she could take already tonight, so she immediately hit back.

  'Look, let's get this straight. You may be paying me, but what I do and where I go in my own time is my affair and nothing to do with you. And if you don't like that arrangement you can put me on the next plane back to England for all I care. I didn't want to come here in the first place and it would suit me just fine to go home!'

  That home truth took them back a bit, and it was Aunt Grace who was the first to say, 'There's no call to talk like that. We were worried about you, that's all. We thought you were in bed and your uncle would have locked and bolted the doors if I hadn't happened to look in your room to ... Well, I saw you weren't there and we didn't know where you'd gone or anything. I think you should have had a bit more consideration than going off like that without a word. What would you have done if you'd been locked out?'

  'Rung the bell until one of you came to answer it,' Tressy answered honestly.

  'Well, really! Her aunt was affronted. 'In future you must tell us if you're going out and what time you'll be back.'

  Tressy shrugged impatiently. 'It should be easy enough to devise some way of letting each other know whether we're home or not, surely?'

  'Aye, but what I want to know is what you were doing eating the caviare and drinking a bottle of my best Burgundy?' her uncle demanded with red-faced annoyance.

  So that was why her aunt had come to her room, Tressy guessed, to tell her off for taking the luxury stuff. Opening her eyes wide in feigned innocence, she said, 'Oh no, Uncle Jack, It wasn't your best wine--I made quite sure of that. I didn't touch the new stuff, I was careful only to take the oldest bottle I could find.'

  Her uncle nearly choked and looked at her suspiciously, not knowing whether to believe her or not, but she returned his gaze blandly, and he muttered, 'My God, only took the oldest bottle she could find! Remind me tomorrow, young woman, to teach you about wine.'

  'And caviare,' his wife put in.

  They let her go then, and Tressy ran up to her room. She had intended to iron her dress before she went to bed, but she felt suddenly dog-tired. It had been a hell of a long day, what with the traveling and everything. After cleaning off her make-up, she collapsed into bed, her last waking thought one of acute dislike for Crispin Fox.

  Nora was up almost an hour before Tressy was the next morning; another residue of her convent school upbringing. Tressy came awake with a groan, but the reflection of the sun coming through the only window in her room, so high up that she couldn't see out without standing on a chair, immediately beckoned, so she put on a bikini and ran down to the garden for an early morning swim.

  Her cousin was already in the water; she was a good swimmer and was doing one length after another in a businesslike crawl, her swimming hat encrusted with plastic flowers bobbing through the. water. Tressy, however, thought that pools were to be enjoyed and splashed happily about in the shallow end, getting in Nora's way when she wanted to turn. Eventually Nora gave up and came to sit beside her on the edge, where she was dabbling her feet in the water and lifting her face to the sun.

  'Forty lengths,' she told her, out of breath, but with some pride. 'I have to do forty lengths every day to keep in shape.'

  Tressy looked at her dispassionately. 'The only thing you're going to shape is your shoulder muscles. You don't want mannish shoulders, do you?' she said accusingly.

  'Well, no.' Nora looked taken aback. 'But I want to keep slim.'

  'But I'm slim, and you don't see me doing forty lengths a day.'

  'You're naturally slim,' Nora said enviously. 'It's easy for you. I bet you've never had to diet.'

  'No, but then I work very hard,' Tressy pointed out tartly, refusing to feel any sympathy for the other girl. 'Come on, let's go and have some breakfast.'

  The maid who was part of the villa package had arrived and laid breakfast on a table on the terrace overlooking the superb view across the bay. The two girls went over, Tressy looking at the hot rolls and croissants with pleasure, Nora with dismay. 'I'll just have fruit juice.'

  'One roll or croissant won't hurt you. Try one, they're delicious,' Tressy told her with her mouth full. 'I'm so hungry-aren't you?'

  'Well, yes, but .. .' Hesitantly Nora reached out and took a croissant, glancing behind her to make sure her mother wasn't around. 'Perhaps just one.' She spread butter and marmalade on it and then ate it with obvious enjoyment, savoring each mouthful. Tressy grinned inwardly, thinking that Nora's love for food would probably prove to be greater than her crush on Crispin Fox.

  'How did you get on last night?' she asked casually, helping herself to a roll. 'Did you run into this man you're chasing?'

  'I'm not chasing him,' Nora said defensively, then, 'Well, yes, we did see him, actually.'

  'Really? Where, at the Casino?'

  'No, as a matter of fact it was on his boat,' Nora admitted uncomfortably, but then she went on eagerly, 'He was really nice to me. And he took us all over his boat, showed us everything. It's a really super boat, Tressy, you'd love it.'

  Hastily low
ering her eyes, Tressy said, 'He was pleased to see you, then?'

  'Oh yes. Even though there were other people there.

  He gave us a drink and we stayed until his friends had to leave. We would have stayed longer, but he said he'd walk us down to our car at the same time,' she added naively.

  So that was how he'd got rid of the Sinclairs so quickly. 'Who were these friends?' Tressy picked up another hot roll and spread it thickly with butter and honey, holding it near Nora so that she could smell that lovely new bread smell. 'Want half my roll?'

  Nora gulped and almost drooled, but she shook her head determinedly. 'No, thanks. His friends? They were all French-a man and two women. The man had a de in his name-Michel de Quebris. That means he comes from an old aristocratic family, don't you think?'

  'I suppose so,' Tressy agreed without interest. 'Who were the women?'