by Susan Lewis
Louisa looked at Sarah, then gently easing her hand out of Danny’s she said, ‘No it didn’t. I thought he was good looking, yes, but no more than that.’
Sarah and Danny watched her walk into the kitchen, then picking up her coffee Danny said, ‘Oh shit, why do I feel so awful, he only looked at her for God’s sake.’ Her eyes came up to Sarah’s. ‘Or is there something you’re not telling me?’
Sarah’s lips tightened angrily. ‘You know there’s more, Danny,’ she said, ‘otherwise you’d never have brought it up.’
‘He drove her home, didn’t he?’ Danny said. ‘I saw Consuela just before we left and she told me.’
‘Then why did you pretend not to know?’
Danny shrugged. ‘I thought … Oh, hell. I don’t know what I thought, but what I do know is that he’s not the man for Louisa. He’s a bastard, Sarah, you can see that just by looking at him.’
‘As a matter of fact all I saw was an exceptionally good-looking man,’ Sarah retorted. ‘What did Consuela say about him?’
‘Only that he’d taken Louisa home.’
Sarah eyed her steadily. ‘It must have been quite a surprise for you, seeing him there last night,’ she remarked.
‘Yes, it was a bit,’ Danny admitted. ‘But if you’re thinking I know any more about that sudden frost when he walked into the room then you’re wrong. And what is this, why do I suddenly feel like the villain of this piece when all I was trying to do was warn her what he’s like?’
‘But how do you know what he’s like when you only knew him for a night?’
‘Instinct. And tell me honestly, Sarah, do you get good vibes about him?’
‘I don’t know that I get any vibes at all,’ Sarah lied. She wasn’t sure whether they were good or bad, but considering the abrupt change in atmosphere when he’d walked into the room last night she thought they were probably bad. However, Sarah wasn’t prepared to pass judgement on someone she didn’t know. ‘Are you seeing him again?’ she said.
Danny shrugged. ‘Not if it’s going to cause bad feeling between Louisa and me. Is she seeing him again?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sarah answered, wondering how long it was going to be before Jake Mallory picked up the phone and called Louisa. Or maybe, when the call came, it would be for Danny. Or with any luck the call might not come at all.
‘Oh, come on,’ Danny said, irritably, ‘let’s go and see if we can swim off these hangovers, I’m tired of talking about him.’
‘You go on ahead, I need some more coffee,’ Sarah said. She had the uncomfortable feeling the situation wasn’t just going to go away. It was odd that Jake Mallory had had such an extreme effect on Louisa the very night after he’d slept with Danny. And odder still was the way Danny had tried to warn Louisa off. In some totally perverse way it made Sarah think more kindly towards Jake for she knew how devious Danny could be, pretending nonchalance when really she felt totally the reverse. Except Danny cared for Louisa probably more than anyone else in the world did, so perhaps she was just being over-protective. But what about Jake? Had he felt the same as Louisa? If he had then Danny’s interference was only going to be a bad thing. But what about the coincidence of him sleeping with Danny the night before he met Louisa? For some reason Sarah believed that it was just coincidence, but that still didn’t mean that Louisa’s instincts about the man were right. But on the other hand it didn’t make Danny’s right either.
Getting up from her chair Sarah stripped off her T-shirt and strode naked down to the pool. She couldn’t think about this now, the circles were making her as nauseous as her hangover.
Hearing the door open behind her Consuela looked up from her desk and smiled as Frederico came into the room.
‘Ah,’ she sighed gratefully, taking the glass of fruit punch from his tray, ‘just what I need.’ She took a long, refreshing sip, set the glass down on the desk and removed her half-spectacles. Despite the soaring temperatures outside the thick walls of the house kept the room pleasantly cool and Consuela, in a pale blue silk dress and cream accessories looked as elegant and unruffled as always.
‘The others have taken their lunch?’ she asked.
‘Yes. They are down at the beach,’ Frederico answered.
‘And you? Will you take a swim?’
‘In a while. I would like to talk to you first.’
Consuela looked up at him and seeing the slight frown between his eyes said, ‘But of course. Nothing is the matter, I hope.’
‘Dmitri is saying he would like to leave,’ Frederico answered.
Consuela turned to gaze out of the open window. ‘Is he not happy here?’ she asked.
‘He would like to go home to Greece. He misses his family.’
‘I see. Then of course we must arrange for him to go.’ She was thoughtful for a moment, flicking the arms of her spectacles with her thumb. ‘Tell me, how much does he know of what Mr Mallory does here?’
‘I think he knows a little,’ Frederico said. ‘He says Mr Mallory told him.’
Consuela’s face hardened. ‘Then perhaps Mr Mallory would like to see him safely back to Greece,’ she said, a sarcastic edge to her voice.
Frederico remained silent, it wasn’t his place to comment on what went on between Jake Mallory and his employer.
‘I shall be sorry to lose Dmitri,’ Consuela sighed, walking to the french windows and looking absently out at the shimmering pool. ‘He is such a pleasant boy.’ She turned. ‘Saturday was just his third time in the bathhouse, was it not?’
Frederico nodded.
‘Who was he with?’
‘I believe it was Danielle Spencer, the British actress.’
‘Oh my!’ Consuela laughed. ‘I’d have thought he’d want to stay for ever after spending the night with such a beautiful woman. But if he is missing his family …’ She left the sentence unfinished as she attempted to puzzle out Jake’s surprising choice of Dmitri to confide in. Had it been any of the others she might have understood it better, but to choose the boy who had spent the night with Danny Spencer simply didn’t make sense. Unless Jake was planning something she didn’t know about.
She smiled and turned back to Frederico. ‘Ask Dmitri to come and see me when he returns from the beach,’ she said. ‘I will talk to him and find out if he is truly homesick or if it is something Mr Mallory has said that is driving him away.’
Frederico moved his tray from one hand to the other, clearly still not ready to leave.
‘Is there something else?’ Consuela asked gently.
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Goodness, Frederico, you do look glum. Come on, tell me, what is it?’
‘I have heard,’ Frederico answered, ‘that Danielle Spencer spent the night with Mr Mallory on board his yacht.’
Consuela’s eyes flew open. ‘What!’ she gasped. ‘When?’
‘The night before she was here.’
‘Mon Dieu! He is the last man in the world her parents would want her associating with. How did they meet?’
‘I don’t know, madame.’
Consuela began pacing, tapping her spectacles against her chin as she thought carefully. ‘Have they seen each other since?’ she asked.
‘I’m not sure. I don’t think so.’
‘Then they mustn’t. We must stop her seeing him at all costs. She is very precious to her parents and it is my duty as her mother’s friend to see that she comes to no harm. I must speak with her. Yes, that’s what I must do. I must make her see sense.’
She looked at Frederico, and though his eyes were sympathetic she could tell that he didn’t think this was wise.
‘No, no, you’re right,’ Consuela muttered as if he had spoken. ‘She has a mind of her own, she will do as she pleases and maybe talking to her will only make the situation more attractive to her. What do you think I should do, Frederico?’
‘I think that depends on how long Mr Mallory plans to stay,’ he answered.
Consuela’s laugh had no humour. ‘M
r Mallory is a law unto himself, as we both know. His plans are never shared, least of all with me. Do you know where he is now?’
‘I believe he has returned to St Tropez.’
Consuela nodded pensively. ‘OK, I will contact him there. But first, tell me, what of the girl he took home, Louisa?’
‘He was at the Valhalla an hour and a half after leaving her.’
‘Good, that doesn’t leave time for anything more than the journey to Valanjou so we have no need to concern ourselves with her. I suggested while they were here that they might like to meet Señor Morandi, but neither of them has called me back about it.’
Frederico could offer no explanation for that so he remained silent. He wished he knew what his employer was really thinking, what was really causing the anguish in her wide, green eyes. Although she confided in him much more than the others he knew there was still a great deal he didn’t know about her, things from the past that continued to persecute her, to invade her moments of calm so that she was never truly at ease.
‘I will speak to Señor Morandi,’ she said. ‘Maybe he can find something for Danny and her friends to do. If she is busy she will forget about Jake.’
Frederico nodded. Behind his impassive eyes was an adoration for this woman that he would never confess to her – it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. What she wanted was his unspoken loyalty, his unswerving support and discretion and that she had.
‘You asked me to remind you, madame, to call Mrs Carmichael this afternoon,’ he said.
Consuela’s eyes seemed to glaze for a moment as she withdrew into the secluded depths of her mind. ‘Yes,’ she said, distractedly. ‘Thank you. I’ll call her. Now off you go for your swim; send Dmitri in after I have taken my siesta.’
‘Well, you ’ave satisfied Didier’s curiosity as to what ’appens in the bathhouse,’ Jean-Claude commented, watching Didier disappear into the darkened interior of the bustling café before turning back to Louisa. ‘So maybe now you will satisfy my curiosity and tell me what is on your mind?’
Louisa raised her eyes from the untouched salade Niçoise, looked at him for a moment, then putting down her fork she fell back in her chair and sighed. ‘Actually it’s nothing really,’ she said, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. ‘I’m just trying to work through something I’m writing about.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Jean-Claude replied.
He watched as Louisa’s troubled eyes moved absently about the sun-drenched square, following the progress of aimless tourists as they roamed the shady arcades. Catching sight of someone he knew leaning from an upstairs window of the Auberge, he waved out then turned back to Louisa. They were sitting in the shelter of the café’s white parasols, but Louisa’s slender legs were resting on the seat of a chair, exposed to the sun. There was obviously more on her mind than a creative problem, and guessing what it was Jean-Claude decided to broach the subject.
‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘do you still wish to know something about Jake Mallory?’
The way Louisa’s eyes suddenly fell to the table told him he was right. She hadn’t wanted to bring it up herself, but it was clearly what was bothering her.
‘Why, have you found something out?’ she asked.
Jean-Claude picked up the bottle of rosé wine and refreshed their glasses. ‘Didier, ’e ask around ’is friends,’ he said. ‘They say that Jake Mallory trafficks in drugs. ’e ’as a boat, many boats I think, and ’e sails around the Mediterranean selling the drugs.’
Louisa was thinking of the marijuana Jake had so openly smoked in front of her. ‘Is that all?’ she said.
‘Isn’t that enough?’
‘I mean, do you know anything else about him?’
Jean-Claude shook his head.
‘Jean-Claude,’ Louisa smiled, drawing out his name, ‘I can tell there’s more, so come on, out with it. What’s his connection with Consuela?’
Jean-Claude shrugged. ‘Maybe ’e supply ’er with the drugs?’
‘There were none in evidence the other night.’
‘Maybe she doesn’t know you well enough to know if she can trust you.’
‘Maybe.’ Louisa looked away and stared up at the crumbling, flat-fronted facade of the apartments above the café. As much as she wanted to talk about Jake she was finding it difficult. Danny’s revelation had shaken her more than she cared to admit and she knew she was still in danger of trying to convince herself that she was different, that she had meant something to him, just as he had to her. And desperately wanting to overlook the fact that he’d slept with Danny as well as not wanting to believe he was dealing in drugs was also unsettling her. She was only too aware of how easily she misjudged men, of how she tried to justify their behaviour with convoluted logic, or simply blinded herself to it altogether. But it wasn’t easy convincing herself that her instincts had been at fault the other night, not when she cast her mind back and pictured him, listened to him and felt the same trip in her heart now as she’d felt then.
She looked up as Didier came back, watched him sit down then turned back to Jean-Claude. ‘Danny told me that she spent the night with Jake last Friday,’ she said flatly. ‘And now you tell me he’s into drugs. So it seems I’ve made a bit of a fool of myself, doesn’t it?’
Didier was silent, watching Jean-Claude and waiting for him to answer.
‘I think,’ Jean-Claude said, ‘that since nothing physical passed between you that it will be easier to recover from what ’e ’as done to your ’eart.’
Louisa gave a wry smile. ‘You’re probably right,’ she said. ‘But if he carries on seeing Danny then I know I’m going to find it very hard to watch them together, especially if I do carry on feeling this way.’
‘Does it not help you to know he is a criminal?’
‘It should,’ she answered, her voice lilting in irony.
Jean-Claude laughed. ‘But it doesn’t?’
‘Not really. And besides, what you’ve heard is only rumour, it might not be true.’
Jean-Claude arched an eyebrow and rolling her eyes at her own pathetic desire to cling to straws Louisa gave a sardonic grin. ‘Well, whatever,’ she said, ‘I won’t be seeing him again, I’m just not prepared to take the risk of getting in any deeper.’
Jean-Claude’s obvious scepticism made her laugh as she flicked his arm.
‘Truly, I’m not,’ she said.
‘Until he calls.’
‘It’s been five days now and he hasn’t, so my guess is he’s not going to. So, let’s change the subject, shall we?’
‘In a moment. But first tell me, did he tell you why ’e was in ’ere in France?’
‘Yes. He has plans to build a marina down here,’ Louisa answered, frowning curiously.
Jean-Claude nodded. ‘That was all he told you?’
‘Why, is there more? What aren’t you telling me, Jean-Claude?’
‘Nothing. I am just curious myself to know why ’e is ’ere.’
‘Doesn’t the marina answer the question?’
‘Yes. It answers the question.’
Louisa started to speak then stopped herself. It was so plainly obvious that Jean-Claude knew more about Jake Mallory than he was letting on that for a fleeting moment she felt irritated enough to snap at him, even shout at him. But before she could, to her surprise, Jean-Claude leaned forward and took her hand.
‘I will be as truthful with you as I can,’ he said, gruffly. ‘When you asked me about Jake Mallory the other day it was not the first time I ’ad ’eard of ’im. I did not tell you then that I knew of ’im because I did not want to tell you things I did not know for sure were true. That is why I ask Didier to ask ’is friends what they know. They ’ave told ’im nothing I ’ad not already ’eard. But there is more, I am certain of it. There is something going on between ’im and Consuela Santini and though I do not know what it is I do not think it is good. And what is important ’ere is that you do not become involved in something from which you cannot withdraw. It is true
that I ’ave ’eard as many good things about Jake Mallory as I ’ave ’eard bad and I believe it will be very easy for you to fall in love with ’im. But I do not think it will be easy for you to discover that it is the bad things that are true when it is already too late.’
‘And if the good things are true?’ Louisa countered.
Jean-Claude’s eyes darted between hers. His generous mouth was uncharacteristically hard and unrelenting.
When he didn’t respond to the question Louisa pulled her hand away, her eyes still fixed on his. ‘I wouldn’t tell Danny any of this if I were you,’ she said, ‘if you do you’ll be presenting her with a challenge she’ll find impossible to resist.’
‘And what about you?’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Can you resist it?’
‘Yes, I think so,’ Louisa answered, feeling her heart plummet with the loss of what might have been if only things hadn’t suddenly got so complicated and mysterious. Then quite suddenly, quite unexpectedly, her heart tripped again and as she felt Jake’s presence as though he were sitting right there beside her she could hardly believe what she was saying. Was she really so fainthearted that she wouldn’t accept the challenge herself? Was she really sitting here like an injured bird, too afraid to try her wings again in case they carried her too close to the sun? Why should she listen to everything everyone told her without giving Jake a chance? And why should she deny what she’d felt during that brief time they were together just because of some unfounded rumours and one night of passion that had happened before they’d even met? No, it wasn’t Danny who was going to rise to this challenge, it was her. She trusted her instincts, she knew that he was worth taking the risk for and if he called she’d see him. She’d go with him wherever he wanted to take her and if it was meant to be that she fell in love with him then that’s just what she’d do. But she wasn’t going to tell Jean-Claude that, she wasn’t going to tell anyone at all, for what happened between her and Jake was their business and had nothing, nothing whatsoever, to do with anyone else. She just wished he’d call soon because she was so longing to see him that she couldn’t think about anything else.
