The House in the Pines

by Margaret Carr

  When he looked her in the eyes again something had changed. It appeared to Lynn that his glance had softened, but his tone was the same when he spoke.

  ‘My mother-in-law can be difficult. She resents obvious help from strangers. It will take time for her to accept you. While she allows Sofia and Ana to help her dress in the mornings and evenings you will take charge of her medication and see to her needs during the day when Sofia and Ana have other things to do. It will take a while but I’m sure you will cope in time. Peter, on the other hand, should be little bother to you other than trying to monopolise your time. Don’t let him. If you have any other problems, you can always find me here when I am at home. Is there anything else you wish to know?’

  ‘Only that we agree on one and a half days off a week.’

  ‘That is understood, of course.’

  His attention wandered to some papers on his desk.

  ‘And the senora’s hearing? She does have trouble hearing, doesn’t she?’

  His eyes snapped back to her face.

  ‘Yes, she does. That was very astute of you to notice, but I expected nothing less. Her poor hearing is a definite disadvantage but she is a proud woman and will never admit to it. Now, if there is nothing else, we dine at nine. I will see you then, Miss Raynor.’

  She was being dismissed.

  Back in her room, Lynn wondered what on earth she was supposed to do now. It was barely seven o’clock. After checking through her clothes to find out where the maid had placed them she wandered into the bathroom to check out her toiletries. She must go shopping now she had decided to stay.

  Then she sat down at the dressing-table and wrote to her closest friend, Jean, asking her to send out one or two items that would be of more use to her here than in store in England.

  There was a sharp rap on the door just as she licked around the edge of the envelope.

  ‘Come in.’

  Luis entered, dressed in a close-fitting black suit with white shirt and red cummerbund and his looks took Lynn’s breath away.

  ‘I—er—have no evening wear with me.’

  His eyes ran over her from top to toe.

  ‘You look quite respectable as you are. Did no-one inform you that we take drinks in the sala before dinner or do you prefer your own company to ours?’

  ‘I wasn’t told.’

  ‘Then you will accompany me now.’

  It was more of an order than a question. Lynn put aside her letter and accompanied him along the landing to the room she had first been shown into that morning, the sala. The two ladies of the household merely bent their heads in acknowledgement as Lynn entered the room on Luis’ arm. A man of medium height rose from a settee to one side of a tall window. Luis introduced him.

  ‘Miss Raynor, this is my business partner, Enrique Romero. Enrique, Miss Raynor has come to join us as the senora’s nurse.’

  On a level with herself, Enrique Romero was middle age, overweight and going bald. He stretched out a warm hand and shook hers briefly. His smile was the gentlest she had so far encountered from the adults she’d met and she warmed to him immediately.

  ‘I’m sure Miss Raynor has a Christian name, Luis?’

  ‘Lynn, it’s short for Rosalind. My mother is a Shakespearean admirer,’ she offered, not waiting for Luis Falcon’s recovery for she doubted he remembered her first name anyway.

  ‘That’s a pretty name. So you are a nurse, a worthwhile occupation, I’m sure. I hope you will stay here in Gran Canaria for some time to come.’ Lynn smiled, and thanked him.

  * * *

  For the first few days, the evening meal was too much for her as she tended to retire immediately afterwards. But by the fourth evening she had developed enough confidence to stay longer.

  Sofia and her mother played cards most evenings and Luis, with Enrique when he called, invariably disappeared into the office leaving Lynn to her own devices. She would bring down a book and read or write a letter until she was tired enough to go to bed.

  On the odd occasion that Luis did not retire to the office he and Lynn would make up a foursome with the senora and her niece. Lynn had noticed earlier how possessive Sofia became when in the presence of Luis, so it came as no surprise when she demanded him as her playing partner.

  ‘My aunt and I play so often that I am aware of every move she will make,’ she said to Lynn with a fixed smile. ‘A change of partner is a challenge, is it not, Luis?’

  Her smile changed to one of a cat anticipating cream, and Lynn wondered what kind of relationship these two shared. Luis’ only response was to raise his eyebrows and lay down the first card. Lynn was left to partner the senora.

  ‘Think, girl, before you play your hand. Have you never played before? What a slow brain you have. I hope you manage my medication better than you do these cards,’ the old woman said, making no attempt to hide her slight annoyance.

  The games became a nightmare for Lynn. If it wasn’t the Senora Medina carping on at her lack of skill it was Sofia remarking on her lack of dress sense or offering unwanted advice on make-up or deportment, always showing Lynn at a disadvantage, while under the disguise of being helpful. What really upset Lynn was that Luis paid no attention to these catty remarks from his family, when he must have realised how distressing they were for her.

  When she entered the sala that evening after dinner and saw the card table set for four she gave an inward groan. As they went to be seated Luis moved round until he was opposite Lynn.

  ‘A change of partners, I think.’

  Sofia could not hide her disapproval.

  ‘We were successful, you and I, natural partners. I can’t imagine why you want to change now, but you are right.’

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘We must give the underdogs a try.’

  Maria Medina gave her niece a sharp look but said nothing.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Two hours later it was a different story. As she grumbled incessantly in Spanish, Sofia, with thinned lips and flared nostrils, tossed her cards on the table and announced she was tired and going to bed.

  Luis rose also and offered the women a nightcap then snapped at them in their own language as they exchanged words with each other and rang the bell for Ana to help the senora to bed. When the door had closed behind them he turned back to Lynn.

  ‘Sofia and the senora are upset because we won,’ he said, a smile curving his lips.

  Then his eyes fell to Lynn’s face and the smile gave way to a frown. Lynn’s hand was unsteady as she took a last gulp of her sherry and placed the glass down on the nearest table. Why did these women hate her so much? What had she done to them? She was used to personality clashes with patients and colleagues alike in hospital where you just had to deal with them as best you could, but never before had she come across such open hostility as she had read in Senora Medina’s eyes tonight.

  A hand under her chin threw her head backward until she was gazing into a pair of steel grey eyes.

  ‘You are not going to tell me that you are afraid of an old woman, are you?’

  She felt his eyes boring into her mind and stepped back out of reach.

  ‘Of course not. I’m trying to understand how you managed to win with such a handicap of a partner.’

  The smile flitted across his face once more, lifting a corner of his mouth, but his eyes never lost contact with her.

  ‘Good-night, Rosalind Raynor,’ he said as she left the room.

  Three days later, Peter came home with his hand in a bandage and strapped to his chest by a sling. The broken leg was plastered from hip to toes and protruded from his wheelchair like a battering ram. The old man, José, pushed him into the sala that evening.

  ‘Hi, Lynn, I knew I would see you again.’

  He pushed away from the old man guiding the chair with one hand and whizzed a wobbly course to Lynn’s side.

  ‘Peter,’ Luis’ voice rapped out, ‘your grandmother and aunt are waiting to greet you.’

&nb
sp; Peter winked up at Lynn then allowed José to push him across to the other side of the room where his female relatives waited for his attention with cool acceptance. They spoke in fluent Spanish as José withdrew and Luis asked Lynn what she would like to drink.

  When Luis returned with her drink, Enrique had arrived and excused himself to welcome Peter home. Luis turned back to Lynn.

  ‘We had better all be on first-name terms. It will save confusion that way. All except my mother-in-law, of course. I don’t believe she would appreciate it,’ he added.

  He sounded as though he begrudged her the familiarity, Lynn thought, but when she looked up at him she realised he was saying it tongue in cheek. She smiled and a short while later they moved in to dinner. The senora still hadn’t forgiven Lynn for winning at cards on the previous two evenings, not eating with the staff, nor for being allocated a guest room instead of the cubby hole adjoining her own suite. She made her disapproval of Lynn’s position obvious in a number of ways, one of which was to complain that there wasn’t enough work to justify Lynn staying.

  Although Lynn was meant to ease the burden of responsibility from the shoulders of Sofia and Ana this had proved to be an extremely difficult task as the elderly woman refused point blank to allow her to do anything for her other than to hand out her medication and do a little fetching and carrying.

  Certainly not what she had been trained for, Lynn angrily admitted to herself.

  * * *

  Now Peter was home, she concentrated instead on helping him to fill his time as usefully as possible while waiting for his leg to heal.

  Lynn sat in the courtyard, the sun hot on her shirt-covered back, listening to the tinkle of the fountain. Peter would arrive any minute urging her to join him in a board game or longing to release some pent-up fury at one of the members of the family. But for now she lay back and enjoyed the peace.

  She had been with the family a month now and try as she might she was still no further forward in her attempted friendship with Sofia. Every time she thought she was near a breakthrough, the indomitable senora closed the breech. The old lady’s complaints had increased over the past week, too. Lynn was rude, she said, untrustworthy, spied on the family’s private matters, the list was never ending according to her.

  ‘Lynn, catch these for me, please.’

  Peter hobbled out into the courtyard, papers clutched between his crutch and his side as he tried to manoeuvre himself along without losing the sliding documents.

  Lynn leaped to her feet and snatched the papers minutes before they would have fluttered to the ground. Setting them on the wall that surrounded the fountain she turned back to help Peter settle himself into one of the cane chairs that stood around a small table.

  ‘What’s it to be today then?’ she asked, placing his papers before him.

  ‘I want you to look at these brochures and tell me what you think.’ Eagerness shone from his eyes as he pushed the material over to her.

  ‘But I can’t read Spanish.’

  Lynn gave him a searching look as she picked up the glossy-backed books. They were brochures for a North London art college. Several pamphlets and leaflets introduced various alternatives to the courses described in the brochure.

  ‘I didn’t know you were thinking of going to an English college.’

  ‘I have been thinking about it for some time now. I needed to be certain that Art and Design was what I wanted to do. The family will not be pleased. I must be very determined.’

  He stretched across the table towards her.

  ‘My father agrees that I may continue my education in England but he and Enrique want me to concentrate on business studies, but sometimes my head explodes with colour, my hands twist with the need to shape images of perfection, images that say something, that give messages to people.’

  ‘Have you tried to explain this to your father?’ Lynn asked, withdrawing her hand from his.

  ‘Several times but he and Enrique see only my entering the business with them.’

  His eyes clouded over and his mouth thinned, reminding Lynn of his likeness to his father.

  ‘They cannot see that my art could benefit them also, only in a different way. My father says there will be opportunities to paint in my free time, but I do not want to paint as a child paints, Lynn. I want to create, to influence people. I need freedom and colour.’

  ‘Well, you won’t get much colour in England,’ Lynn said with a grin, ‘not in the winter anyway. But, yes, I do know what you mean. What is it you want from me?’

  ‘I want you to speak for me.’

  He smiled, his eyes once more shining with suppressed excitement. ‘To the family.’

  ‘You are joking, I hope,’ she exclaimed in disbelief.

  ‘No, I don’t joke. You are older, you come from London, they will listen to you because you have experience of these things.’

  ‘I know nothing of commercial art, Peter.’

  ‘Please, Lynn, tell them this is a good college. That I will have much influence from attending this college.’

  Lynn groaned inwardly.

  ‘Peter, you know I’m not popular with your family. Why would they listen to me about such an important matter as your future? I’m an outsider.’

  She was thumbing through the brochure as Peter said, ‘You won’t help me then?’

  ‘Of course I’ll help, any way I can, but believe me it won’t benefit your cause to have me speak to your family.’

  ‘I know how difficult grandmother and Sofia are making your life here. They are very foolish people. It is because you are getting in the way of their plans?’

  ‘Plans?’

  ‘Si, I know how they work. Grandmother has decided that Sofia and my father should marry but my father looks upon you with favour and they don’t like it.’

  He made a face and shrugged his shoulders. Lynn felt the hot blood run up her neck and set her face aflame.

  ‘Peter, I’m sure they think no such thing.’

  ‘So you see it would be a waste of time to speak to them but if you were to speak to my father.’ He paused. ‘Please, Lynn, he might listen to you and I could speak to my grandmother. I’m sure I can persuade her you are no threat to her plans.’

  Lynn’s face had paled and grown strangely still.

  ‘Well, I’ll be very grateful if you can intercede with your grandmother and I will try to talk to your father but I can’t promise that it will make any difference. In all probability, I’ll be told to mind my own business.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Luis wasn’t alone in the office after dinner the following evening when she knocked on the door. Enrique was there, bending over the fax machine.

  ‘I think you should know,’ Luis said, after indicating that she should be seated, ‘that my mother-in-law has informed us that you have been encouraging Peter in his wish to study art at college.’

  Lynn was shocked. She hadn’t had time to broach the subject with them let alone be accused of encouraging Peter to do anything. When Luis had suggested at dinner that she should join him in the office later she’d hoped she would get the opportunity to speak to him on Peter’s behalf, never dreaming for a minute that Peter himself may have already taken matters into his own hands and mentioned her name.

  ‘We are aware of Peter’s ambition but feel it concerns no-one but his family,’ Enrique spoke gently.

  Lynn took a deep breath, aware of Luis’ eyes boring through her, hoping to find evidence of some evil intent, no doubt.

  ‘I don’t know what the senora has said, but all I have done is promise Peter I’d speak to you about his ambitions for the future. I’ve not encouraged him in any way, in any kind of disobedience. Why, anybody with two eyes in their head can see he needs no encouragement. His desperate enthusiasm for this art course is written all over his face.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I have endorsed the family’s view that Peter will be better served by committing to a business course first. If he makes a succe
ss of that then will be the time to consider further education,’ Luis said.

  Lynn could feel anger swelling inside her. They obviously had no idea how Peter felt. Had he ever been allowed to talk to them the way he had talked to her the previous day? Were they deaf to the excitement that entered his voice when he spoke of art? She glanced across at Enrique then back to Luis whose brows lifted, daring her to question his authority.

  ‘I’m amazed a family can be so blind to one of its member’s needs. But then,’ she said, rising to her feet, ‘nothing in this job surprises me.’

  ‘I haven’t dismissed you, Miss Raynor.’

  Enrique made a tutting sound and said, ‘You must understand, Lynn, family values are very strong here in Canaria. Oh, I know we are a cosmopolitan island and the young people very fashionable and free thinking. But the older members of a family can often see beyond the enthusiasms of youth. In a good family, youth depends upon the experiences and knowledge of its older members.’

  His eyes moved to the stone-faced Luis.

  ‘As head of the family, Luis has taken everyone’s feelings into account and made a decision. It is now up to every member of that family to obey his ruling.’

  ‘Isn’t that rather outdated? I don’t believe for a minute Senor Falcon has taken Peter’s feelings into account. If he had, he would be in no doubt as to the strength of those feelings, or the pain that going against them may cause.’

  ‘So,’ Luis Falcon snapped, ‘you admit to encouraging him to disobey me.’

  ‘I admit nothing.’

  ‘But you think you know better what’s best for my son than I do.’

  ‘No, yes, I just know you are wrong not to listen to him.’

  Enrique clasped his hands and turned to face the wall. A grim-faced Luis gave her permission to go but not until he warned her.

  ‘I forbid you to discuss this subject with Peter again. If you do I shall have to ask you to leave my employ.’

  Lynn stood outside the office door trying hard not to fling it open and tell him to stuff his job. After a while she calmed down and crossed the courtyard to the staircase. Now she was wishing she had never taken the job in the first place.