by Jane Corrie
Sonia stared back at her solemnly, at a loss for words.
for goodness' sake,' sighed Chloe, 'George will want to know his name, won't he ?'
Sonia's brow creased in thought. After a few seconds her brow cleared. 'Henry Inskip,' she said.
`Who's Henry Inskip?' queried Chloe.
`My professor at Cambridge,' Sonia said with twinkling eyes. 'He's an absolute pet, and I'm crazy about him. He has fluffy white hair that flies out in all directions.'
Chloe giggled, then sobered. 'Sonia—supposing George makes some enquiries, if you tell him he's a professor he'll soon catch on what you're up to, they're all ancient, aren't they?'
`Not these days,' said Sonia. 'We had one over from the States on an exchange basis and he was quite a dish. Besides, George was at Oxford, so he's not likely to know much about my tutors.'
`And what,' went on Chloe, 'about a ring? Or didn't you have time to get one?' She looked depressed. 'It's no good, Sonia. You weren't wearing a ring this afternoon and you can't suddenly appear with one. It will look just what
it is—a ploy.'
Sonia wasn't giving up that easily. 'No one had chance to see it,' she said indignantly. 'I shook hands with my right hand. Rory Maragal sat on my right at lunch, and it doesn't matter about anyone else, does it?' She got up and searched in her small jewellery box. `Ah, just the thing. Aunt Jean's solitaire. Perfect ! ' She slipped it on her engagement finger and squinted at it. `It's a bit awe-inspiring, isn't it?' she queried.
Chloe looked. 'Will George recognise it?' she asked.
Sonia looked smug. 'He's never seen it. Aunt Jean died after you left—you never met her, did you? She and George couldn't stand the sight of each other, she used to make him furious by interfering in what she used to call a well-meaning way in my future.'
Chloe sighed, then gave in. 'Between you and George,' she said.
Sonia placed an arm around her shoulders. `Don't worry, dear. George taught me all I know about half truths. He's quite adept at them, as I'm sure you know. He might not believe me, but he's stuck with it, and I think he'll be only too relieved to be able to give Rory Maragal a plausible excuse for my not being a bit more co-operative, as you might say.'
Sonia had been right about her brother's reaction. He stared at her and his blue eyes opened
incredulously. 'Why didn't you mention this before ?' he demanded.
She had an answer to this too. She glanced down at her hands. 'Well, I wouldn't have done except that it was a bit obvious you were going to push me into a certain man's company,' her green eyes glinted up at him, 'for devious reasons of your own, so I had to tell you.'
`What's wrong with this fiancé of yours, then? Good heavens, he's not a drop-out, is he?'
Sonia almost chuckled. George had a horror of drop-outs. She was tempted to say yes, but regretfully dropped the idea: 'Of course not,' she said, hoping she sounded indignant. 'He's a professor.'
`A professor ?' shouted George. 'For heaven's sake, how old is he?'
Sonia looked demure. She daren't look at Chloe. 'Not too old,' she murmured. 'Fortyish.'
`Fort . . .' George was lost for words for a few seconds. `No wonder you forgot to mention it. It's ridiculous . . . it's cradle-snatching ! ' he shouted.
`As I'm twenty-two,' Sonia answered on her dignity, 'it can hardly be called that.'
He stared at her; it was obvious he had forgotten her age. 'Even so,' he muttered, 'he's
twice your age. No, dammit ! I won't hear of it.'
Sonia suspected he had another reason for his
vehement rejection. She glared at him. 'I'm not
giving him up, George. I prefer older men and I'm over the age when you can put your foot down. Henry is the one for me.'
George tried to stare her down, but failed. He gave in surprisingly easily, which instantly alerted Sonia. He sighed. 'All right, let's have it—his name, where you met him. I'm not completely convinced you're doing the right thing, though.'
Sonia launched into a narrative of her fabricated fiancé. She thought she was doing extremely well considering she had to battle against overwhelming odds. George's sceptical eyes and the way he pounced every now and again on certain irrelevances in the tale and Chloe, supposed to be writing a letter at the bureau behind him, was busy sketching a portrait of a bald professor with a fringe of hair haloing away from his pate which she held up for Sonia's inspection. Actually it wasn't a bad likeness of Professor Inskip, she thought, swallowing the urge to giggle. She would throttle Chloe if she made her ruin everything by laughing.
When apparently satisfied, George wanted to know when 'the happy day' was.
Sonia, not sure whether he was being sarcastic or not, answered that as yet no date had been fixed. She was quite grateful for the intrusion at that particular moment of Danny, George's houseboy, who wanted to know if a lift was
required from a Mrs Turley to Boss Maragal's that evening.
`No. Thank her, Danny, tell her there'll be three of us and a bit of a crush, so I'll take my car,' replied George.
Remembering the earlier plans for a bathing party, Sonia asked hastily, 'You're not including me, are you, George? I'm dead beat. It will take me at least two days to get acclimatised. I'm having an early night.'
George feigned a hurt expression. 'Now, Sonia,' he said placatingly, 'I forgive you for causing me no end of embarrassment at lunch when you all but entered into a slanging match with the owner of the island, and incidentally a man I can't afford to displease. I thought under the circumstances it was particularly kind of him to put some form of entertainment on as part of your welcome to the island.' He sighed. `I hate to think of the outcome should you simply not turn up.' He looked sadly at Chloe. 'We might as well start to pack, my dear, chances are we shall be ordered to leave the island by midday tomorrow.'
Sonia's lips set. 'I don't believe it ! ' she said. `Rory Maragal would no more put a show on for my benefit than apologise for his boorish behaviour at lunch.' She appealed to Chloe, Would he?'
Chloe was sympathetic, but she had to dis-
appoint her. 'Sorry, dear, it's true. He actually said so in front of our guests.
Sonia had a feeling of slightly weighted odds being levied against her. 'Very well,' she said stiffly. 'Just this once.'
They did not leave until eleven-thirty, and Sonia hoped she could find a secluded place where she could catch up on her sleep until it was time to go. She wore a swimsuit, simply because Chloe told her everyone else would be in swimming gear. She had no intention of taking part in the actual swimming activities. Chloe provided her with a towelling beach coat.
While they waited for George to bring the car round to the front of the house, Sonia glanced up at the sky and gasped. It really was a beautiful night. There was indeed a moon, in fact it was almost as clear as day, except that the light was a gentle one. Sonia had thought the whole idea a slightly mad one, but now she was able to understand that with nights like this it could be a very pleasant way of spending an evening. Under different circumstances, of course, she thought grimly, as she got into the car.
The journey was not a long one. Soon they were driving down an expansive drive bordered by shrubs in full flower and drew up in front of a large house ablaze with light. The gardens beyond were lit by lanterns of soft coloured lighting, there were blues, greens, violets, giving
a fairytale effect to the surrounding shrubs. Did his house border on the sea? Sonia wondered as she got out. Several cars had followed them down the drive and their passengers were also alighting, calling laughing greetings to each other. All wore beach wear, the younger feminine section in bikinis, making Sonia feel a prudish spinster in her one-piece. The men wore trunks with towels slung over their shoulders, all of them extremely tanned, like Rory Maragal. With her white skin, Sonia thought ruefully that unless a very shady spot could be found for her she would stand out like a beacon. She thought she saw Rory Maragal's tall figure in the distance in the middle of a laughing group of
people. She fingered the ring on her finger, hoping the solitaire would wink out its message in case she was unfortunate enough to get stuck in his company.
Everyone seemed to be heading for the back of the house. Chloe and George linked their arms in hers; it occurred to her that they might be afraid she would do the disappearing act.
It was not a sea shore, but a beautifully shaped natural pool. The silver sand was real enough; all Sonia could liken it to was an oasis, and indeed the effect was heightened by the palms beside the pool. Already people were in the water, splashing and calling for others to join them. The palms screened a lot of light off of the pool itself and Sonia thought it would be
difficult to recognise anyone in it at a distance. Her lips pursed. It was an ideal setting for the type of philanderer she was sure Rory Maragal was. She wished she knew why he had decided to entertain her, as George had put it. Had George pleaded with him on her behalf ? It would be a pity if he had. She liked things as they were. She thought of Chloe's remark about giving her another chance of redeeming herself. This was what she had meant. Well, she was sorry, she would be quite polite about it, but it was no go.
George found a spot well away from the pool for them to settle down in; it was reasonably shady too, and this suited Sonia, as chances of anyone spotting them from the pool area were pretty remote. Perhaps he really had been convinced of her engagement? They had not long settled down before hampers of food were distributed. It was still warm on the sand, and Sonia soon started to relax. She ate the delicious corn on the cob, tried the sweet potatoes, and found she liked them. There was an assortment of fruit, figs, peaches, plums, some she had never seen before. George warned her not to eat too much if she contemplated swimming, but she lay back on the warm sand, murmuring that she had no such intention and was content to just laze. She drowsily heard George ask Chloe to go for a swim with him. After they had left, she gazed
up at the enormous moon she could see peeping through the spiked leaves of the palms.
She ought to have known it was too good to last, and vaguely wondered how long he had stood there before he spoke; she had a feeling he had not just arrived. 'Not swimming, Miss Wells?' he asked.
Sonia blinked up at him towering above her. `I'm not awfully good at it,' she said, and felt a stab of apprehension as he lowered himself to sit beside her. He wore bathing trunks only and she could see the dark patches of hair on his chest where the gleam of water still clung. She felt his eyes on her figure and dived for her wrap. He caught her hand, the one with the ring on. 'I hoped you would wear your bikini,' he said softly. 'I appreciate a good figure.'
Sonia moved her hand, deliberately making the ring scratch his. His hold tightened and he turned her hand towards him catching the gleam of the ring.
`There are plenty of unattached females down at the pool,' she said, 'with what I would call stunning figures.'
He was still looking at her ring. 'Why didn't
you wear this ring at lunch?' he asked conversationally. 'I suppose it's an engagement ring. It
doesn't matter, you know. Makes no difference.'
Sonia caught her breath. 'To you, perhaps
not,' she retorted, 'but to me it means quite a
lot.'
She tried to disengage her hand, but he would not release it. 'Tell me, Sonia, would you say I was the kind of man easily swayed by conventions?'
Her heartbeats increased and she felt herself start to tremble as he moved closer to her, his bare arm resting against hers. She drew back so there was no contact between them.
When she did not answer he asked, 'Why are you afraid of me?'
She clenched her teeth. 'I'm not afraid of you. It's just that I'm a bit old-fashioned.' She shakily held the hand with the ring on out to him. 'I'm booked, this ring says so.'
He laughed and slipped the ring off. 'Now you are free,' he said, and chuckled at her efforts to retrieve the ring, then caught her to him. She felt his hard muscles against her skin. When he drew her closer she put up a fight of pure terror, but the harder she fought the tighter he held her. She caught the gleam of white teeth and knew he was grinning at her futile struggles to free his hold on her.
`Will you let me go ! ' she panted breathlessly.
`Oh no,' he laughed. 'You were the one who
chose to cross swords with me—now you must
take the consequences. George brought you here
to soften me up, didn't he? Why have you
backed out? I'm more than willing to be enter-
tained, so let's get on with it. I've no doubt George has used your services before. Were the others pushovers? You're in the big league now, honey. You must work for your money.' He held her away from him. 'Who are you really? An actress, or just one of his secretaries? Not that I mind one iota what you are. I like what I see, so what the hell.'
She shivered, and he laughed again. 'Is that a sign of pleasurable anticipation or of distaste? Shall we see ?' He quite deliberately pinned her down flat like a butterfly on a card. She opened her mouth to scream, but it was stifled as his mouth covered hers, first very gently, then with a savage dominance. Sonia had never been kissed in that way before, and she had been kissed many times. She recognised the kiss for what it was, an insult of a kind. She was made to feel like a wanton picked up at a moment's notice. She felt sick. When Rory Maragal lifted his head, she saw the flash of teeth and knew he had enjoyed punishing her.
He got up and looked down at her. 'You can tell George I don't think he's going to get that contract,' he drawled, and moved away.
Sonia sat up shakily. She wiped her mouth with a gesture of pure distaste and found him beside her again. He could not have failed to see her action, and she was glad. He threw something at her. 'Your ring, honey,' he said coldly,
and left.
George and Chloe shortly returned. Sonia was now certain George had manipulated the meeting. Between clenched teeth she gave him Rory Maragal's message and saw him start. 'Can we,' she demanded icily, 'go home now? It didn't work, George. I'm leaving tomorrow.' With fingers that shook she gathered her things together.
He tried to bluster it out, but even Chloe wasn't talking to him. As they moved through the guests on their way out, one girl was heard to remark, 'Pay up, Moira, I won the bet, I saw him kiss her under the palm.'
Sonia felt her stomach retch, and rushed on ahead of George and Chloe. When they got to the car they found her white but otherwise composed.
`All right, Sonia?' queried Chloe, darting a furious glance at George as she did so.
Sonia nodded. She wanted to leave this place and get back and soak and soak in cool clean water. If only the memory of that kiss could also be erased!
CHAPTER TWO
SONIA found Chloe waiting for her in her bedroom when she had had her shower, and inwardly she groaned. She was very fond of Chloe, but right now would have preferred to have been left alone. Chloe wanted to know what had happened, and it was something Sonia would rather have forgotten.
`Was it very awful, dear?' she enquired gently. `Apart from the fact that I'm not speaking to George, I didn't want to ask you in front of him. What happened, for goodness' sake?'
Sonia glanced at her anxious expression and gave a rueful smile. 'My pride took a bit of a beating,' she admitted. 'I'm not used to being called an accomplice, also of backing out of the proposition. He was quite furious when I refused to play the game.' She shivered. 'I hadn't much defence, had I? He was right about George's motives in bringing me out here.' Her lips set.
Chloe's sighed. 'I guessed that was what had happened,' she said. 'In a way I'm partly to blame, dear.' She hesitated. 'Don't get mad now, but I'm guilty of a bit of matchmaking. I thought once Rory Maragal had seen you it was
all over bar the shouting. If anyone could land him you could.'
Sonia was amazed and looked it. 'You thought—' words failed her. She swallowed. `You actually thought I would fall for a man like that ?' she squeaked. 'Why, h
e doesn't even believe in the ordinary conventions of life. He took my ring off, you know, and threw it at me afterwards.' She drew a deep breath. 'I've never been so humiliated ! ' She stared indignantly at Chloe. 'If you think I want a husband who thinks he's God's gift to women, you're way off beam, dear.'
Chloe smiled ruefully. 'He did upset you, didn't he?' Then she frowned. 'I can't understand it. He's not really like that at all. Oh, he's spoilt by the attention he gets from the females and a little cynical, I guess, from their obvious moves to snare him, but it doesn't go to his head, he's fully aware that his financial position makes him target number one in the matrimonial stakes.' She sighed. 'I might have known George would ruin it ! '
Only Chloe was present at breakfast the next morning. Sonia guessed George had taken himself off early to the town office. Chloe had extracted a promise from her to stay the week, and she was already regretting it. It was too late now. Chloe had informed her that there were only two ferries a week, Mondays and Saturdays. She
would now have to wait for the Saturday one. One thing she did know, wild horses would not drag her to another social occasion that included Rory Maragal. In a way she was relieved the confrontation was over. She now knew where she stood, and incidentally so did George. She felt no compassion for him. He ought to have known men of Rory Maragal's calibre did not believe in playing any games unless they could make the rules. Even if she had set out to be pleasant and `accommodating' as Rory had put it, she grimaced distastefully, her pride wouldn't have been the only thing she would have lost.
Chloe took her out that morning on a short tour of the island. It was an unvoiced arrangement that they would not go too far afield so as not to risk running into a certain individual. She was shown fields of lilies—as Chloe remarked, she had come at the right time of year to see the island's luxuriant vegetation at its best It was late July and riots of colour could be seen as far as the eye could discern. Oleander bushes in bright reds, pinks, and whites first caught the eye, flowering shrubs with large blossoms, ornamental flowering trees that Chloe couldn't put a name to, fruits of every description. Sonia was fascinated to actually see lemons growing. A further delight was identifying flowers that grew at home, such as stocks, wallflowers, violets and narcissus. 'Why,' she remarked to Chloe, 'we
