‘Well, thank you, that’s very kind of you. Shall we say two o’clock?’ she said apologetically.
A quiver of a smile tugged one corner of his mouth as he offered his hand.
‘Buenas tardes, Miss Raynor. I look forward to seeing you again,’ he said, with a slight nod of his head.
Lynn sat in the back of the car hardly daring to breath. Would he be there tomorrow and if he was, she scolded herself, what difference is it to you? He’s a married man with a teenage son.
CHAPTER THREE
To Lynn’s disappointment, there was no sign of the boy’s father at the hospital the following afternoon. But she was to be allowed to meet the young man she had helped.
‘Senor Falcon insisted that you be treated as one of the family,’ the nurse confided to Lynn.
They were walking down a white corridor with blue doors on either side in this the private wing of the hospital. Her own soft sandals and the nurse’s rubber-soled shoes made a squeaky sigh on the highly-polished floor. Smells of antiseptics invaded the air sending Lynn’s professional emotions into overdrive.
‘There was no brain damage?’ she asked the nurse.
‘No. He has had a scan which was clear. He has pain naturally but the doctor expects a complete recovery.’
‘His hand?’
‘They operated. The tendon damage was minimal.’
The nurse opened a door on the right saying to the occupant as they entered, ‘I have brought you Miss Raynor, the lady your father told you about, Peter.’
Lynn smiled at the young man in the bed.
‘Great, you’re young and pretty, what a relief. The way my father described you I was afraid you might be some old dragon,’ he said, smiling cheekily.
That hurt! She would have liked to have known exactly how his father had described her.
‘Hello,’ she said, walking towards the bed with her hand extended. ‘My name is Rosalind, but my friends call me Lynn.’
‘Hi, Lynn. My father tells me I owe you my life.’
‘That’s a slight exaggeration.’
‘It suits me fine. I don’t mind owing you my life.’
She caught the twinkle in his warm brown eyes and thought how disgustingly beautiful he was, for a man. His shoulder-length blonde hair had been bleached nearly white by the sun and curled around an oval face with neat bones and a straight nose. His bow-shaped mouth was smiling at her now. An infectious laugh escaped them both as they accepted each other’s scrutiny.
‘I didn’t know what to bring you,’ Lynn said, producing several magazines covering topics as diverse as computers and cycling.
‘Stay, please,’ he said. ‘The most comfortable chair is that one in the corner. It must be. It’s the one Sofia sat in earlier and she’s renowned for grabbing the best of everything.’
Lynn pulled a wry smile as she thought of the cool woman she had met in the waiting-room the previous afternoon.
‘Well, I’ll stay for a short while perhaps.’
‘My father is not expected today. But Sofia will be back tonight.’
‘Your English is excellent.’
Peter laughed.
‘My grandfather was English and my father was determined that I be bilingual. Grandmother Medina does not like it but my father’s word is law so she has to put up with it.’
‘What does your mother think?’
His face sobered momentarily.
‘My mother died when I was seven.’
Lynn’s soft heart collided with her curiosity.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Are you staying near the scene of the crash?’
‘Yes, it happened just outside my apartments, the Flamingo Apartments.’
‘Ah, yes,’ he said, grimacing as a movement in bed caused him pain. ‘My father must remove you to one of our best hotels. A suite with a sea view. How much of your holiday is left?’
‘Hey, just a minute,’ Lynn cried, holding up her hands in mock horror. ‘There’s no way I can afford any first-class hotels even if I was on the point of departure. As it is I have only just arrived.’
‘Please,’ he went on, trying to pull himself up in the bed. ‘Do not insult us. No-one is suggesting for a moment that you pay. It beholds us to repay you for your kindness.’
‘This is getting out of hand, Peter. I came today only to check that you were going to recover. Nobody owes anybody anything. Now, I’ll be on my way. Good to have met you,’ she said, rising from the chair and preparing to leave.
‘On this island we do not abandon someone who has saved our life. My father will be in touch. Hasta la vista, Lynn.’
Lynn was counting out her foreign currency next morning when she heard a sharp rap on an apartment door. She stopped what she was doing and waited for it to be repeated, not quite sure that it was her door. It came again and while unable to imagine who might be calling on her, she answered it. He stood there, looking totally out of place.
‘Miss Raynor, I wondered if you could spare me a few moments of your time.’
Lynn, puzzled as to what he might have to say, opened the door wider and allowed him to enter.
‘How can I help you, Senor Falcon?’
‘My son tells me you do not wish to acknowledge our gratitude.’ Lynn felt the sting of an embarrassed blush rise to her face.
‘I don’t mean to be rude, but . . . ’
‘Do you still wish to work on the island, Miss Raynor?’
‘I was thinking about it, yes.’
‘Would you consider private nursing?’ he asked, casting a casual glance around her accommodation. ‘An elderly lady with angina and arthritis and a young man recovering from injury.’
‘My experience is in hospital work.’
‘But you would consider it?’ he persisted.
Lynn was on the point of turning him down, when he mentioned the figure on offer.
‘This could be paid into a local bank, plus your own car and rooms, of course.’
Lynn suddenly felt as if she had been smacked in the face, such was her surprise.
‘We are talking about my working for you, aren’t we?’
With raised eyebrows he asked, ‘Have you a problem with that?’
‘Not exactly, no. It’s, well, after talking to your son yesterday, I wondered if you were inventing this job for me.’
‘What did my son say to make you think that? My mother-in-law is seventy-two and in need of constant attention which her niece cannot give her full time. Your work will make the burden easier for her. Peter may only need your attention for the next few weeks once he is home. Whether you decide to stay on after my son is on his feet again or use the time to find alternative employment is up to you. If you need time to think it over please let me know no later than tomorrow afternoon.’
When he had gone, Lynn slumped down on to the settee and stared at the print on the opposite wall. Well, my girl, you have got yourself a job after all, she thought, and what a job.
The accommodation was bound to be first class if he could afford to offer a salary like the one he had just offered her. Her own car, and the work didn’t sound too onerous. Of course on the down side, she would lose what was left of her holiday, but the time off was generous, supposing she could get them pinned down to sticking to it. One of the hazards of private nursing, she knew, was the inability of employers to accept the off-duty times stated in their contracts.
She glanced at the small, printed business card he had given her and read Luis Falcon, Director of Canteras (import/export) Co., Ltd., and the telephone number beneath. She chewed on her lip for a while, debating the wisdom of what she was about to do.
The following morning, after ringing Luis Falcon and accepting the job, she sat on her balcony enjoying a lunch of fresh rolls, ham, cheese and orange juice. She thought about the changes she would have to make to the life she had left behind her. Her parents would need to be told and friends contacted if she was to ask them to put her belongings into storage.
She would write to the landlord of her two-bedroom flat. The lease was six monthly with a month’s notice either way. Her deposit would cover that. She reminded herself of the cold, rain-washed streets and the dark passage and stairs that led up to her flat and shuddered. She would ring her parents regularly and visit when she could afford it but apart from that she would be committing herself to a life on her own on Gran Canaria.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Casa Mariana stood facing a small, cobbled square in the Vegueta district of Las Palmas. Its tall, stone frontage looked forbidding with its heavy, carved door, shuttered windows and empty balconies. The chauffeur rang a great metal bell by the door and as Lynn climbed from the car, a small, bent man came out of the house and collected the cases the chauffeur deposited on the ground.
‘Senorita, please to come this way,’ an equally small, dark woman said as she appeared in the doorway. ‘My name is Ana. I am the housekeeper of Senora Medina.’
So, Lynn thought, it’s the house of the senora, not Luis Falcon. Does that mean I’m an employee of the old lady and not her son-in-law?
‘The senoras await you in the sala,’ the housekeeper informed her.
Lynn followed Ana through a large, stone-floored hallway whose iron wall sconces and heavy furniture gave it a mediaeval look. They crossed an open-air courtyard with a central fountain and turned up a wide, carpeted, stone staircase and along a landing dark with the life-sized portraits of the long dead.
All rather spooky, Lynn decided.
The room she was shown into was wide and long, its three windows heavily swathed in lace and damask. Beautifully-carved cabinets stood along two of the white walls armed by heavy, straight-backed chairs with wooden arms and seats that looked as though they had never been sat in since the occupants had worn chain mail! A variety of small chairs and tables were arranged around the room.
‘Miss Raynor, senoras,’ Ana announced, before turning and leaving the room.
A pair of beady brown eyes beneath a head of white hair looked up from her embroidery frame.
‘Do you speak Spanish?’ the older of the two women said in a cold voice.
‘I’m afraid not, senora, but I am hoping to learn,’ Lynn replied rather hesitantly.
She was aware of the other younger woman in the room who had yet to speak. She held a glass of something in her hand and was watching her aunt silently.
‘Come over here, girl, so I can get a good look at you,’ the senora said. Lynn crossed the floor and waited to be invited to sit down, but the small, elderly lady with the ramrod back did no such thing.
Instead she said, ‘This is my niece, Senora do Sosa, whom I believe you have already met.’
By now, Lynn was getting the distinct feeling that her presence in their home was not appreciated.
Sofia de Sosa looked her up and down then said, ‘In the hospital, I believe.’
Lynn smiled at them, refusing to be daunted by their chilly reception. ‘That’s right, the night of the accident.’
The senora continued, ‘We are a quiet family here. We dislike noise or disturbance in any form. I have arranged for you to sleep in the room next to mine in case I should need you during the night. Any other details I have left to my son-in-law. Please refer to him if you have any enquiries. Ana will show you to your room,’ she ended, ringing a small, silver bell on the table by her side.
Ana appeared like magic and Lynn wondered how on earth she had heard the little bell from the ground floor and answered it so promptly. She followed Ana along the balcony that ran above three sides of the courtyard to a room that was dark after the dazzling sun outside.
The walls of her room were white, the floor and furniture a highly-polished dark wood. There was a tall wardrobe, a neat dressing table, a bedside cabinet with a lamp and a water carafe and tumbler next to a comfortable-looking four poster bed. An adjoining small bathroom made her sigh thankfully. Lynn’s mood lifted as Ana left telling her that a maid would be up directly to unpack for her.
Lynn had no intention of letting someone else do her unpacking for her and, pulling one of the cases—the old man had left her luggage inside the door—on to the bed, she began to take out her clothes.
‘What have you got against the child who will unpack for you? Would you deny her the job?’
Lynn’s feet nearly left the floor at the sudden intrusion of Luis Falcon’s voice. He stood outlined against the sun in her doorway.
‘How long have you been there?’ she gasped.
A smile twitched one corner of his mouth.
‘The view into the courtyard is preferable to that of the street.’ He directed her on to the balcony.
‘Beneath us we have Ana’s and José’s quarters, the kitchens, and laundry.’
He waved down into the open centre of the house.
‘There is also a study, office and library. On this floor we have the sala, dining-room, several bedrooms with bathrooms. I have modernised and improved where necessary for comfort and ease but Maria Medina prefers the old ways.’
‘It is rather large isn’t it, and breath-taking?’ she murmured.
‘I came to tell you that we eat late here so it may be as well if you were to rest this afternoon and I will see you at six in my office.’
‘One moment, senor,’ she said as he made to leave her. ‘I would like one thing cleared up. Who exactly is my employer, yourself or Senora Medina?’
‘I am your employer, Miss Raynor, have no doubt about that.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Later, Lynn wondered whether she was pleased or daunted by Luis Falcon’s response. There was a tap on the door and a slim teenager came into the room. She gave Lynn a shy smile and indicated that she was here to unpack Lynn’s cases.
Lynn, rather embarrassed by this personal attention, moved out on to the balcony. A deep canopy covered the balcony, sheltering her face from the sun while her arms lay along the warm wood.
When she stepped back into the room several minutes later, she found the maid had finished her work and gone, leaving behind a simple meal of salad and bread on a tray. Lynn was grateful she wouldn’t have to join the family for lunch.
Yes, she thought, after enjoying the meal, it would be easy to fall asleep now despite her curiosity about the house and the people in it. She had no intention of taking a siesta but the peacefulness of the house acted like a sedative and, lying down for a rest, she was soon fast asleep.
When she woke, she was at a loss to remember where she was, then as memory returned she noticed that the room was much darker and wondered what time it was. A shiver ran through her as she glanced at her watch. Goodness, it was twenty to five! She had slept the whole afternoon away and she was due in Luis Falcon’s office at six o’clock.
A warm shower chased away the remains of her shivers, after which she searched her wardrobe for something suitable to wear. The clothes she had brought with her were, in the main, lightweight cotton and casual. Many changes later she had decided on a pink wraparound skirt and patterned silk blouse. Her hair she arranged in a knot on top of her head. A touch of pink lipstick and a light brush of mascara and she was ready.
She had mapped out the position of the office in her head, but once down the stairs and on the ground floor she was faced with a series of doors she couldn’t place. There was no-one in sight whom she could ask so she opened the first door on the right and peeked in.
It was a library with a central table and straight-backed chairs. The bookshelves were laden with numerous heavy tomes covering three of the four walls while a second table extended along the fourth wall bearing a display of the largest pieces of silver Lynn had ever seen. She couldn’t suppress a giggle at the thought of the trouble a burglar might have trying to shift that lot.
The sound of a footstep behind her made her swing round to the courtyard, a flush of guilt on her face. Luis Falcon stood behind her, his expression perplexed.
‘Is there someone there?’
&n
bsp; ‘No.’
‘I thought I heard you laugh.’
‘You did, but it was just to myself.’
Lynn’s colour heightened.
‘There is something funny about the house?’
‘No, not at all,’ Lynn rushed to assure him.
He shook his head as though dismissing silly English behaviour.
‘I came to show you the way to the office. I thought you might find it confusing at first.’
Lynn fell in beside him and followed him into an extremely modern office with up-to-date technology and walls covered in charts. Fascinated, Lynn stared at an around-the-world time piece, shipping lane charts, old ships, logs and cargo lists from long ago in glass topped cases.
‘These are really interesting pieces. Have you been collecting long?’ she asked.
‘These pieces, Miss Raynor, have been in my family for three centuries,’ he replied curtly.
Lynn just stared, then swiftly removed her hand from the case and wiped it down the side of her skirt.
‘Your business,’ she whispered, ‘goes back three centuries?’
He lifted his head and his combined Spanish, English and Canarian heritage blazed from his eyes.
‘When you are ready,’ he said, indicating a chair to one side of his desk. Lynn sat down.
‘I will need to see qualification certificates and at least two testimonials. Do you have business to see to in England before you decide to work here?’
‘No, nothing I can’t do over the phone.’
‘What about family, friends. Do you leave a fiancé, partner or whatever they call it these days?’
Lynn didn’t like his tone.
‘I only leave my parents and I haven’t lived at home for nine years. I shall go back to see them from time to time and,’ she said with a smile, ‘who knows, they might even come out to see me, though they’re not keen on travelling. As for the rest, I don’t have a current boyfriend. I’m twenty-eight years old and was engaged to a doctor for four years after which time even I realised he had no intentions of marrying me.’
Her chin jutted forward as she said this for Dr Simon Westfield’s treatment of her still rubbed like an unhealed sore. Luis Falcon dropped his head in acknowledgement of her honesty.
The House in the Pines Page 2
