Bond of Fate

by Jane Corrie

  Julian's eyes stayed on Melanie, who wished she was elsewhere. He must have been remembering the way he had gone for her, she thought uncomfortably, and she said quickly, 'Well, to be honest, I hadn't connected the sickness with that sandwich. I don't believe I remembered to tell the doctor about it, either, even though he did say I'd probably eaten something that didn't agree with me. I wasn't feeling up to much, you see,' she ended lamely, wishing that Julian would turn his attention elsewhere.

  She was relieved when breakfast was over and she could spend some time to herself. The news that Julian had decided to spend more time with them came as much of a disappointment to her as it was a delight to Celia, and she wasn't looking forward to it one bit. Somehow, she had to have a word with him when Celia wasn't around, and that was not going to be easy.

  That also went for the talk that she would have to have with him, but it had to be done, for there had been something in the look that he had sent her before he had left for his business appointment that suggested a hint of an apology, and aroused her suspicion that he intended to make up for his lack of

  perception over the cause of her indisposition.

  Since that last devastating interview, when he had accused her of 'playing for keeps' there had been no outward sign of his suspicions where she was concerned, but Melanie knew that this was only a front put up for Celia's benefit, and he had succeeded so well in this that there had been times when Melanie might have been forgiven for thinking she had imagined the whole episode, until she had caught the glacial look in his eyes whenever they rested on her. He might abhor play-acting, she thought, but he was very adept at the art himself.

  Her main worry now was that he would take the easy way out, make a swift apology and expect things to go from there, leaving her in a kind of limbo. He would, she was sure, conveniently forget his earlier threat of an immediate conclusion of their contract, particularly now that he had managed to persuade himself that he had nothing to worry about where she was concerned. The fact that Celia was fond of her would weigh heavily in his calculations, quite apart from the fact that her qualifications would ensure his daughter's success in her chosen profession.

  Everything, Melanie thought dully, was just dandy from Julian's point of view, and it could, if she let it, go on for several years. She took a deep breath. No, thank you! she thought fervently. No matter what, she wasn't letting herself in for that. Although she had no wish to let Celia down; all things taken into consideration, she had had a rough deal all round. Money wasn't everything, and although her father loved her dearly, he was too busy in his financial dealings to spare much time for her.

  It was the thought of Celia that brought an idea into her mind, and somewhat brightened her. She would

  need a job after the annulment, wouldn't she? What was there against her carrying on as Celia's tutor?

  The more she thought about it, the more she liked it. It was such a sensible arrangement, and one that would certainly appeal to Julian Cridell and settle, once and for all, his doubts about her intentions where he was concerned.

  But first there had to be an annulment, and she was sure that he would listen to reason. Basically, he was a fair man, and he must have sensed that she was out of her depth among the rich society she had unwittingly been catapulted into. She was sure that she would manage to convince him that the sooner the charade was over, the better.

  Feeling happier about everything, Melanie changed into her swimsuit to get the maximum amount of suntan in her favourite bower while Celia lost herself in her studies. If she had wanted any help from Melanie she would have said so, but since her bout of sickness, she had thoughtfully not made any demands on her time in the studying line, so Melanie was surprised when she met Celia in the hall after emerging from her room.

  `Why don't you come down to the beach with me?' asked Celia. 'It's not too hot and there's a nice breeze out there for a change,' she added.

  Melanie was tempted to refuse, and then felt mean. Celia obviously wanted company, so she agreed, and the girls made their way to the beach that sloped down from the villa's boundaries.

  `I think this would be a nice place for our picnic this afternoon, don't you?' said Celia as she slipped down a sandy bank towards a stretch of white silvery sand where the sea lapped gently against the shore. `Although I suppose we'd better bring a parasol with

  us in case the wind drops,' she added, as she plonked her beach bag, overflowing as usual with technical books, down on the sand.

  'Want to do some work ?' asked Melanie, as she settled herself beside Celia, slipping off her skirt and blouse and making herself comfortable on the towel that Celia had provided her with.

  The girl shook her head. 'No, I feel very lazy.' She sat up and looked around her. 'There should be a couple of lilos somewhere, according to Mario, He said that he put them down here in case we wanted to go on the beach. Oh, there they are,' she exclaimed, looking back to the top of the ridge they had come over. 'We ought to have seen them as we came down.' She went to fetch them. 'There you are,' she said as she put one down beside Melanie. 'Now you can really stretch out. I've a mind to use mine on the water.'

  Melanie lay on the lilo and lazily watched Celia carry hers to the water's edge and float it out on the gently lapping water.

  'You ought to try this,' Celia called a moment later. 'It's lovely, just like being in a hammock. The waves do all the work, and it's perfectly safe. I could lie here all morning,' she added drowsily.

  'Oughtn't you to put some oil on?' Melanie suggested. 'The sun's getting stronger.'

  'Can't be bothered,' Celia replied. 'I don't usually burn, anyway. I'm one of the lucky ones as far as suntan's go.'

  Melanie lay back and closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on her eyelids, and the balmy island air caressing her face. Soon, all this would become a memory, part of a dream, she thought, and in the years to come, she would have to try and convince herself that it had all actually happened, and wasn't some-

  thing she had read about.

  Suddenly the brightness she had felt penetrating against her eyelids went black, and she opened her eyes, wondering how long she had been asleep, although it seemed only a moment or two since she had closed them. The sight that met her startled gaze made her spring up with a beating heart, and a dreadful anxiety for Celia's safety.

  This fear intensified when she caught sight of Celia's lilo now being tossed about on the mountainous waves sweeping into the bay.

  It was a mini typhoon. Melanie had heard about them, and how suddenly they could appear and just as suddenly disappear, leaving a trail of wreckage in their wake, but none of this occupied Melanie's thoughts at that moment. Where was Celia, for pity's sake? Was she still clinging to the lilo?

  In her highly over anxious-state, Melanie thought she saw her as one great wave overturned the lilo, but it was so dark, and the wind, now a howling gale, played tricks on her hearing. Was that Celia calling?

  Without a second thought, Melanie grabbed her lilo and went into the water. She had some vague idea of using it to help her somehow get to Celia. She had seen bathers using surf-boards to ride the waves, and although she obviously couldn't stand up on the lilo, she might be able to carry out some sort of action lying flat on one. She had to try anyway; she couldn't stand by and let Celia drown. At least she had some strength in her arms, and Celia wouldn't have any by now.

  The first great wave that caught the lilo Melanie was clinging to swept her of her seemingly safe anchorage. She hadn't bargained for an early ducking which left her gasping and coughing out water that she had swallowed, and her frantic attempts to grab the

  lilo that kept bobbing away from her every attempt as the boiling sea tossed it about like a tiny piece of jetsam reminded Melanie of the time, as a child, that she had tried to get her teeth into an apple in a tub at a party.

  She had no idea why such thoughts should run through her mind at such a time, which perhaps was just as well; she was in enough
trouble without recalling old sayings about seeing one's past just before the end.

  The second time Melanie went under, she knew she wasn't going to make it. Oddly enough, she felt no fear; it was as if another side of her was seeing the green of the water as she began to sink helplessly down to the depths. It was brighter now, she thought hazily, and that was the last recollection before darkness closed in on her.

  `Get some blankets, Celia, grab anything, and tell Mario to have some black coffee ready!'

  The words seemed to come from a long way off as Melanie found herself face down on the beach and being pummelled with merciless vigour by the owner of the voice. She knew it was Julian's, and she also knew that Celia was safe. He had given her an order, hadn't he? She felt incredibly weary, and too sore all over her body to think beyond this point. The pounding went on. She must have retched it all up ages ago, she thought weakly. `Oh, do stop pounding me,' she managed to gasp out weakly.

  `So you've decided to join us again, have you ?' Julian demanded, with a harshness in his voice that touched even the very weak Melanie, who put it down to the fact that she had made a nuisance of herself once again.

  She felt herself turned gently over, and supported by his strong arm as he helped her half sit up. He was soaking wet, and Melanie's thoughts turned to the certain ruination of the smart business suit that he had worn that morning when he had left for his business appointment, that now seemed aeons ago. 'Your nice suit,' she said feebly.

  `I'll take it out of your salary,' Julian said, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice that made Melanie want to cry, and she did, the tears falling like rain down her face.

  She wanted to say how sorry she was-for causing all this trouble, but she really had thought Celia was drowning out there.

  Celia then arrived back at a breathless pace, armed with a blanket which Julian wrapped around Melanie, cocooning her like a silkworm's egg, and to add to her misery, he picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the villa. When they reached it, he put her down on the chaise-longue, and arranged the blanket so that she could drink the coffee that was waiting for her. 'As soon as you get some warmth into you, you've to take a hot bath, he said in his autocratic way, 'I'll tell Mario's wife to run the water,' he added, and left to give the order.

  `Try and drink it as hot as you can,' Celia said, her eyes showing her concern for Melanie. 'Thank goodness Dad arrived in time! I couldn't reach you; the currents were too strong. I still don't know how he managed it, but he did. What on earth possessed you to go into that sea?' she demanded.

  Melanie stared at her. 'I know it sounds mad,' she said crossly, 'but when I woke up, all I could see were mountains of waves and your lilo tossing about on top of them. I had some weird idea that you were still

  clinging to it, so, like Tarzan I rushed to the rescue.'

  Celia giggled. 'Oh, Melanie, I do like you,' she said, and hugged her, making tears prick behind Melanie's eyes at the thought that at least someone really cared about her.

  `I thought I heard you calling for help,' she told the girl, to cover her momentary embarrassment, `but with that awful racket the wind was kicking up, I suppose I dreamt that, too,' she added ruefully.

  `No, you didn't,' Celia said. `Only I wasn't calling for help; I was trying to tell you that I was okay. I got on to a rock and just hung on. I knew it wouldn't last for long; these sudden storms don't. I nearly died when I saw you plunge headlong into the water. I thought you must have had a brainstorm!' Her small hand clutched Melanie's cold one. 'I ought to have known what made you try something daft like that,' she said softly. `Come on, that coffee's gone cold, I'll pour you another.'

  Melanie barely had time to swallow the second cup of coffee before Julian, now changed into casual wear, was in the room again, and with a brusque, 'Finished?' he whisked her off the chaise-longue and out of the room, with a surprised Melanie protesting that she could walk.

  She thought he was going to take her to her room, but when she realised that their destination was the bathroom, her assertions that she could manage became more adamant. But her companion appeared to have become deaf and dumb until they reached the bath, when he put her down and, first testing the water temperature—as if she were a baby, Melanie thought vaguely through her exhaustion—he coolly commented, `We'll get that wet costume off you, and have you

  into this in no time,' as if he were talking about the weather.

  Melanie held firmly on to the rim of the bath; she might be exhausted but she was still in full control of her senses, and if he thought She felt the blanket wrenched away from her, and summoned up enough strength to make a last stand against this high-handed treatment. 'I can manage. Just leave me to it,' she said, through teeth that had begun to chatter.

  `It looks like it, doesn't it?' said Julian drily. 'You can't even stand up straight,' he added, as his fingers caught the straps of her costume.

  `Please!' Melanie pleaded. 'Can't you ask Mario's wife to help me, or Celia?'

  `Celia's just a child, with a child's strength,' he replied, still keeping a firm hold on her straps, 'and Mario's wife will naturally expect your husband to do all that's necessary,' and so saying, he stripped the costume off her slim body in one deft movement, leaving the totally embarrassed Melanie entirely bare, the wet folds of the swimsuit clinging round her ankles. But she didn't have time to dwell on this fact, mercifully, for the next moment she was swung up into his arms and lowered gently into the water. 'Now you just let the warmth seep back into you,' he said, as he straightened his tall body, his grey eyes meeting hers with a glint of amusement in them. 'If you can manage to cope when you're ready to come out, okay. If not, I'm in the next room. Just call out,' he told her, and left.

  `I'll cope,' Melanie muttered after he had left. 'I'll cope if it kills me!'

  Not that it mattered now, she thought, her misery now turning to slight hysteria, and it was all she could do to repress the bubble of laughter that threatened to take over. Only the thought that Julian was on the

  alert for any sign of abnormality on her part—and

  surely, a fit of the giggles would come into that

  category at this particular time—helped to sober her.

  Slowly the warmth enveloped her body, and Melanie felt the strength returning. There was a strong inclination to be lulled into sleep, but she sternly resisted this, afraid that Julian might consider looking in on her to see if she were ready to come out. This thought alone was enough to give her the impetus to get going under her own steam, and, getting out of the bath, she wrapped herself up in the large towel, grateful for its generosity of material, and presented herself for Julian's critical approval before going to her room. Julian took one look at her totally shrouded appearance and his eyes crinkled in amusement as if to remind her that it was a bit late for prudish proprieties, making Melanie want to hit him. Her colour was high as she swept off to her room to dress.

  The sooner she had that talk with him, the better, she thought angrily. She had suffered enough embarrassment for the cause, a cause that was already won, she reminded herself as she slipped on a cool dress and sat at the dressing table to comb her hair. Of course, he would think her pathetic attempt to preserve her dignity was comical, and she supposed it was from his point of view.

  It was not so much the fact that he had treated her like a child left in his care for a specific time that hurt so much, it was the plain fact that she was a grown woman, with a woman's feelings, and she had a right to protect those feelings, and what little dignity he had left her. And that wasn't much, she thought angrily, as she recalled the bathroom scene.

  She could have managed. Celia could have steadied her until she had got into the bath, couldn't she? But

  oh, no, Mr High and Mighty had seized the chance to demonstrate what a little nonentity she was. What did it matter to him if she was embarrassed? She was just a cog in his machinations, a fly to be swatted when it got too adventurous!

  She took a deep inward
breath. She was tired of being on the receiving end of that swatter. It was time that she did something about it, and there was no time like the present, she told herself, as she took one look at herself in the dressing table mirror and sailed out to meet the enemy, hoping that Celia had gone back to the verandah where she usually spent the mornings lost in her studies.

  Melanie had not, however, taken into account the fact that the morning was now early afternoon, and Celia and her father spent the afternoon together, so all her pent-up frustrations had to take a back seat until a more suitable occasion presented itself. Her subdued manner during lunch was put down to the morning's happenings, with neither Celia nor her father making any attempt to draw her into the conversation, on the premise that the sooner that it was forgotten, the better for Melanie.

  Now Celia was at it too, Melanie thought crossly. She too was adopting the same attitude as her father, treating her like a child, and anxious not to dwell on anything that might prevent recovery from a traumatic experience.

  Had Celia told her father why she had plunged into that boiling sea? Melanie wondered. Or did he think as Celia had first thought—that she had taken leave of her senses? More than likely, she thought dully, as she peeled a peach. What did it matter, anyway? In fact, she hoped Celia hadn't told her father, for with his kind of thinking where she was concerned, he would

  have been certain that she had an ulterior motive behind her action, hoping maybe to go up in his estimation.

  There was no further mention of the previously arranged picnic on the beach, and Melanie felt piqued about this too. Not that she had arranged to go with them, but she did feel that they could have carried on with the arrangement and left her to her own devices, instead of making her feel that she had upset their plans, although she had to admit that this was not strictly true, and, if she were honest with herself, it was a nice gesture on their part to stay with her.