Once seated herself, she let out a sigh of pure relief and Serena noted how tired she was, and again wondered how old she was. Her beautifully waved white hair framed her delicate almost ivory features. High cheekbones, now with the skin stretched tightly over them, gave a hint of the beauty she must once have been. The blue eyes, now faded, would in her youth, have been devastating. Serena sighed inwardly; it must be terrible to be completely alone, she thought.
Mrs Tonetti rested her head back on her chair and gave Serena a sweet smile. 'Now we can talk,' she said conspiratorially.
'Ought you to have given Molly my real name?' queried Serena. 'What name did you give your granddaughter?'
'Oh, don't worry about that,' answered Mrs Tonetti quickly. 'It's Lisa, as a matter of fact, but I thought it might complicate things if you had to remember to answer to the name. You see, my dear, I've not only manufactured a relation, but a career for her as well. It was the only thing I could think of to give you some excuse for not coming to see me.' She gave Serena another of her delightful smiles accompanied by a half apologetic look. 'It's rather a glamorous career, too.'
Serena blinked and hoped it wasn't anything in the film line, for if she were asked any questions about the movie world she would be stumped for a start.
'You're a model, dear,' explained Mrs Tonetti. 'Not as yet top class, but with a little luck and hard work, you should make the top grade.'
'Thank you,' answered Serena solemnly, her eyes brimming with mischief. 'I shall endeavour to do my best.'
Her companion chuckled. 'So convenient, isn't it? Your name is so perfect for the role. Your height, too!' She studied Serena with her head on one side. ‘Not only that, but your clothes, my dear. If you don't mind my saying so, you do rather look as if you have already made the grade. That's a Balmain suit unless I'm very much mistaken.'
Serena nodded, and was about to ask whether she had mentioned where she was supposed to be working, when the door opened after a soft tap and Molly appeared with a tray of tea things. When she left, Serena asked her question.
'Oh, London, dear. At least you're stationed there. You do travel back and forth on the Continent for the fashion shows.'
As she accepted a cup of tea, Serena thought there should be no difficulty there. She knew at least four fashion houses in London, and one in Paris. It would be easy to mention one of them and she had the added good fortune to be quite friendly with one top flight model. So far, so good—there was just one little problem. 'Are my parents alive?' she asked, smiling inwardly at the thought of her mother's indignant reaction to the question had she been privileged to hear it.
Sipping her tea slowly, Mrs Tonetti swallowed and shook her head. 'No, dear. There's only you and I, so don't worry about that side of things, it was all explained away.'
'What am I to call you? I'm afraid I don't remember my own grandparents,' Serena said.
Mrs Tonetti appeared to give this question some thought. 'I never did like being called "Gran", I think I would prefer "Nan"—what do you think?'
Serena heartily agreed; she had no inclination towards the name Gran. Somehow it would seem impertinent. 'When is the Centenary?' she asked.
'Thursday,' replied Mrs Tonetti, a note of satisfaction in her voice. 'There's a Centenary Eve Ball at Jordan's home tomorrow evening,' she gave Serena a hesitant glance. 'I'd rather like to take you there. I think it would be a good place for you to make your first appearance. Not the sort of place where an inquisition can be held, if you see what I mean. There'll be introductions, of course, and you'll obviously be asked to dance,' she broke off chuckling. 'In fact, my dear, I shall be very surprised if you aren't stampeded—and that,' she said a little maliciously, 'will keep you out of Clarissa Simpson's prying eyes. She'll be so frustrated! I just can't wait to present you to her.'
'What exactly happens on Thursday?' queried Serena.
'Well, as I've said, they do this landing thing, all dressed up as pirates. I don't know whether Jordan will take part on the day itself, or not. They had a rehearsal the other day, and you should have been here, my dear, it was wonderful—Jordan dressed as his forebears, with a scarf around his forehead and in the dress of the day. He was the image of a portrait in his library of the first Jordan Kerr who took the island all those years ago.' She gave a sigh. 'You know, those must have been exciting times, sometimes I rather wish I'd been part of them.'
Serena shivered, not because of any change of temperature in the room, which was pleasantly warm, but she quite suddenly had a vision of a bunch of marauding pirates wading ashore, knives in their mouths and cutlasses swinging. Heaven help anyone who got in their way 1 She, for one, was thankful those days were over.
'And then,' went on Mrs Tonetti, 'we have a carnival parade through the town and that takes most of the morning. In the afternoon, there's canoe racing and a barbecue on the shore. Later, another dance at Jordan's place. It's a very hectic time, and of course, I shall keep you with me the whole time, so you won't have to worry about saying the wrong thing. You did say you had to leave on Saturday, didn't you, dear?'
Serena nodded. 'Don't you think it would be a better idea if I were to take off on Friday instead of Saturday?' she asked.
Mrs Tonetti looked woebegone. 'Oh, do stay another day, dear. You won't have to meet anyone, I shall say you're going on Saturday and that I intend to have you to myself for that one day. Not even Clarissa Simpson can argue with that!' She gave Serena a hopeful look. 'I do so enjoy having company. I really don't get much these days, I have a stupid complaint that prevents me doing too much in the social line. Don't look so alarmed, my dear,' she added hastily, 'what else can you expect at my age? Will you stay until you really have to go?'
Serena would have liked to have gone on Friday, but she had no defence against those pleading blue eyes. Smiling wryly, she gave in. 'Saturday, then,' she said.
CHAPTER TWO
After a delicious meal of chicken cooked in a rich wine and garnished with button mushrooms, tiny shallots and herb sauce, followed by a fresh cream gateau, Serena and her hostess relaxed in the spacious beautifully furnished lounge.
Declining the offer of a liqueur, Serena protested, 'Really, I've had ample. I hate to think what would happen to my figure should I stay here for long. Do you always have such mouthwatering dishes?'
Mrs Tonetti smiled. 'No, my dear, Molly never gets the chance to show off with just me. I usually exist on some kind of light diet. I expect you noticed the tiny portion she allotted me, as a sort of a treat, you know. I'm afraid I haven't much of an appetite these days. You'd never believe some of the dishes she puts before me were some form of fish or chicken, she's a genius at disguise; not only that, they taste delicious as well.'
Silence fell between them while they sipped their coffee. Serena's thoughts were busy with the forthcoming events; would it all be as easy as her extraordinary but beguiling companion thought it would be? She could well understand the loneliness and frustration that had made Mrs Tonetti invent a relation. Going back to her childhood days, Serena could remember how often she was tempted to do the same thing at her boarding school, but her invention would have been a brother or sister. How often had she listened to her friends and their tales of the doings of their family; of Patsy Johnson's irresponsible brothers and the tangles they got into.
As an only child, Serena had felt left out of things. She sighed; yes, she could see the old lady's point of view. This Clarissa Simpson must be an insufferable person to have driven a lonely, harmless woman to such lengths of deception. Thinking back to their previous conversation, Serena remembered something that had puzzled her; what had Mrs Tonetti said about not liking being called 'Gran'? Almost, mused Serena, as if she had once been addressed as such. Had the fantasy taken such a hold of her that in her mind the granddaughter really did exist?
A wave of compassion touched her, and Serena was determined to do all she could to help Mrs Tonetti. For a short space of time it would take her mind off her
own troubles. Time enough to face up to them when she joined her mother and Roger in New York on Saturday.
Glancing across at Mrs Tonetti, Serena found her making an effort to keep awake, but her lids were gradually drooping; she must have missed her afternoon siesta, Serena thought.
'Would you like to go to bed?' Serena asked her gently. 'I've some unpacking to do and would welcome an early night myself.'
Mrs Tonetti made another effort to rouse herself. 'I shouldn't be surprised if Molly hasn't already unpacked for you, dear,' she murmured drowsily. 'But I must agree it's time I rested, especially if I mean to do a little socialising in the next few days.' She smiled at Serena. 'So if you'll excuse me, I shall go to bed.'
On reaching the door, she turned and gave Serena another smile. 'Molly would have put you in the best guest room; she'll take you there when you're ready.' She hesitated for a second, then added softly, 'You can't imagine how grateful I am to you, my dear. We'll have a nice long chat in the morning.'
While Serena waited for Molly to collect the coffee tray she glanced through some magazines lying on a side table. They were mostly American, similar to the more exclusive journals printed in England. There were articles on the doings of the high society, gossip columns, and the usual speculation on who would eventually marry whom. Serena's eye caught a paragraph that mentioned a name she had heard recently—Jordan Kerr. Her brows rose as she read the news snip.
'Jordan Kerr, wealthy owner of Blue Island in the Bahamas (incidentally, reported in our last issue as one of the six most eligible bachelors in the world!), was spotted lunching with the delectable Miss Myrna Simpson at Kilroy's on Friday. Will another diehard soon bite the dust?'
No photograph accompanied the news item, and Serena was a little disappointed, for she would have liked to have seen what Jordan Kerr looked like. She was also a little surprised to find the man Mrs Tonetti talked of in such warm tones coming under the category of one of the world's most eligible bachelors; not that that automatically made him a playboy, but it somehow did not gell with the description Mrs Tonetti had given of him. A little smile played round Serena's mouth as she thought of Mrs Tonetti's reaction to that paragraph. Myrna Simpson, she mused, would be Clarissa Simpson's granddaughter, the one who kept all the bachelors on their toes.
A short while later Molly appeared. 'Missus said you'd like to go to your room, Miss Serena,' she said shyly.
Serena smiled at her. 'Yes, please, Molly, if you would show me the room you've put me in.'
The room Molly took her to could have been no other than the best guest room, as Mrs Tonetti had surmised it would be, and was certainly extra special. It was purely feminine; the main colour theme was peach and a delicate pastel blue. Peach linen on the bed and a beautiful embroidered bedspread of peach and blue blossoms echoed the delicate hues of the pastel walls and the blue velvet curtaining. There was an ornate dressing table with gold-framed mirrors and an exquisite brush set, the backs of which were decorated with paintings of peach blossom on a blue background; Serena did not have to examine them to know they were antique and highly valuable.
Serena's gaze slid round the room, at the thick carpet, a darker blue than the curtains, the chairs with dainty spindled legs, another collector's item, and a gorgeous full-length mirror framed in an alcove next to the inbuilt wardrobe that ran the length of the room. The bedside lamp next caught her attention, and she moved to the cabinet beside the bed to have a closer look at it, and caught her breath. It was enchanting; a nymph with delicately sculptured limbs held a torch above her head in what could only be described as a triumphant pose. Serena was not sure, but rather suspected the metal was just what it appeared to be, gold. She wondered whether Mrs Tonetti had any idea she was living in a collector's paradise. It was just as well, Serena thought, that Jordan Kerr vetted all newcomers to the island, for had Mrs Tonetti elected to live elsewhere, her life would have been one long fight against the intrusion of collectors or their agents.
Undressing, Serena smiled as she noted that Molly had even gone to the extent of laying out her nightdress and negligee. She was certainly receiving V.I.P. treatment!
After her bath, Serena returned to the bedroom and stood before the dressing table wondering where Molly could have put her toilet case. Having apparently packed hers away, it was obvious she expected Serena to use the beautiful set laid out on the dressing table, but Serena felt this would be an encroachment and looked for her own, eventually finding the case in the top drawer of the dressing table. As she took it out, a photograph caught her eye and she looked closer at it.
It was of a girl standing against a background of rocks. Whoever had taken the photograph had not been an expert; the girl was shading her eyes against the glare of the sun and her features were partly in shadow. She was tall, with long dark hair, and judging by the style of the dress she wore, the snap was probably taken about five years ago. Serena could well remember wearing a similar style when she was eighteen.
There was a name scrawled at the bottom of the snap, and Serena bent closer to read it and frowned when she made out the name 'Lisa'. Closing the drawer, she sat for a few minutes staring at her reflection in the mirror, then started brushing her hair. Was that where Mrs Tonetti had got the name from? Was she a daughter of a friend? Serena recalled her words about not liking being called Gran, then she shrugged. Mrs Tonetti could have got that snap from anywhere, sent perhaps from England; the background rather suggested England than a sub-tropical island in the Bahamas. She would have to have something to show folk in order to prove the existence of the fabricated granddaughter.
Having seen the photograph Serena could now understand why she had caught Mrs Tonetti's attention. The girl in the photograph might well have been herself; there was a curious likeness there, and they were about the same height. The fact that the features were obscured was a point in Mrs Tonetti's favour, and Serena half-smiled; no wonder she had thought Serena the answer to her problem!
A tiny frown creased her forehead. Mrs Tonetti must have often regretted the mad impulse that had placed her in this position. Serena wasn't sure she was helping things either; to appear, then disappear, would surely complicate matters further. She gave this some thought, then brightened. She could send her a letter now and then, in fact, she decided, smiling at her reflection, she would adopt Mrs Tonetti as her official grandmother! She couldn't think of a nicer person to fill the role! On these thoughts Serena climbed into bed and was soon fast asleep.
Mrs Tonetti was not an early riser, and Serena breakfasted alone on the patio at the back of the chalet. She was quite content to laze in the warm sunshine and gaze at the panorama spread out before her. The gardens front and back were quite large, but beautifully kept, from what Serena could see of them. She decided to ask permission later to explore them.
Her eyes dwelt on the splashes of colour; pinks, blues, bright reds and brilliant whites all proclaimed a gardener's paradise. She heard the calls of birds and the strident screech of the brightly coloured parakeets as they flew by intent on their search for food. As the perfume of the flowers floated towards her, Serena took a deep breath. How heavenly, she thought, to be able to call a place like this your own. Her worries seemed to recede in this peaceful setting. It was as well she was leaving on Saturday, she thought, for she had a feeling that a longer stay would make it impossible for her to leave. She sighed wearily. It was no use indulging in wishful thinking; she had to face the future. There was her mother to consider.
'You're back to your problems, aren't you, Serena?'
Serena gave a small start and turned to give a rueful smile to Mrs Tonetti.
'Are you sure you wouldn't like to talk about them? I'd like to help, if I can. If you'd let me, that is…' Mrs Tonetti ended a little hesitantly, not wanting to intrude on Serena's private life unless given permission.
'I don't see why I should burden you with my problems,' Serena said gently. 'To be honest, I'm not sure there is an answer, apart from the
one I'm trying to avoid,'
Not quite knowing how it happened, she found herself telling the whole story. In a way it was a relief to talk about it. There was no one else she could confide in. All her friends were friends of her mother and Roger, and if asked would say she was foolish to turn Roger down. Jean Woodson, for instance, who adored Roger and would marry him tomorrow were she but given the chance, would think Serena mad for even considering refusing him.
Mrs Tonetti listened attentively, only interrupting once to ask how old Roger was, and was silent for a while after Serena had finished explaining the position.
'Well, one thing is certain, dear,' she said gently. 'You're not to even consider marriage unless you love the man. As for your mother, I know it sounds callous, but isn't it about time she learnt to stand on her own two feet? The more you shield her from her own stupidity the longer she'll take to realise her responsibilities. You can't be expected to go on protecting her from the realities of life.'
Serena sighed. 'Oh, I know you're right, but if you only knew Mother! She hasn't ever had to fend for herself. She'd be game to try, you know, but she wouldn't have a clue. Father managed everything— and he did rather spoil her. He spoilt me, too, come to that.' There were tears in her eyes as she said this and it took a second or two to compose herself before going on, 'I feel awful about it, but I can't help hoping she could meet someone like him again. I know it's what he'd want, too. She isn't short of admirers, she's still quite lovely, and there's a good possibility that she might meet someone on this cruise Roger's got lined up. I do know he's asked several of his New York business acquaintances to join us. He's pretty astute, you know, and I wouldn't mind betting he's already lined up a few presentable types who might fit the bill.'
Jane Corrie - The Bahamian Pirate Page 2
