The Dawn Steals Softly

by Anne Hampson

  The dinner was served in a high-ceilinged room with long windows draped in velvet and looking out on to the moonlit courtyard. Candles and flowers and gleaming glass on the table. Adela had trained her apprentice well, for it was Ana who had prepared the table and lit the candles. She had probably arranged the flowers, too. And if so, then she had a natural flair for the art, decided Paula as she sat down, having had her chair drawn out for her by Ramon. He had to come close, of course, as he pushed it back for her and she felt his cool breath on her cheek. Her pulse quickened and colour fused her face. His hand was close and those long lean fingers fascinated her.

  She admitted, not without a sense of shock, that she would like to have experienced the feel of them, to know the contact of flesh with flesh…

  'You're blushing?' He stared questioningly as he took the chair opposite to her. 'Tell me why?'

  Her eyes narrowed, for she was very sure that he knew why she was blushing.

  'I didn't know I was,' she lied, her glance going deliberately to the window and the fountain bathed in light outside it. 'I don't often blush,' she added after a space.

  'Women these days rarely do,' he agreed. 'But you—you're different. You've not been around, I think?'

  'Around?' She knew very well what he meant but feigned ignorance.

  He smiled a little mockingly. 'You've not had much experience of men.'

  'No, I haven't, not in the way you mean.'

  'And what way is that?'

  She averted her head, hiding her expression. 'I believe you meant—er—affairs.'

  To her surprise he laughed. She glanced up swiftly, her heart giving a little jerk. The laugh was in his eyes, and crinkly lines fanned out from the sides, adding to his attractiveness. Strong white teeth were still revealed as the laugh subsided to a smile.

  'An innocent, eh? How refreshing! I'd never have believed that, at your age, you'd not tasted the sweet things of life.'

  Her mouth set, because of her anger at his familiarity. 'Senor, can we change this topic to something else? Would you please tell me more about this journey we're making into the Rain Forest?'

  'And shy as well. What is this young man of yours made of?'

  'He knows what control is! And decency!'

  'I've made you angry. I'm sorry.'

  She looked at him in surprise, and he laughed again. No, he said, he did not often apologise to anyone. She must consider herself honoured.

  After that the evening progressed pleasantly, with the conversation sometimes touching on the trip to El Yunque and sometimes on the other cases which Ramon had in hand.

  At half-past ten Paula said she was going to bed. Ramon got up as she did, and for a moment they were staring at one another, Ramon's manner incomprehensible, his handsome face a mask as hard as stone.

  'Good night,' she faltered, every nerve end quivering.

  'Good night, senorita. Sleep well.' He opened the door for her but she did not move. Fear struck her unexpectedly; she was convinced that he would take hold of her as she went past him to leave the room. 'Something wrong?' he demanded, frowning in puzzlement.

  'N-no…' Rousing herself, she managed to cross the room. 'Th-thank you, senor,' she murmured, her whole body tensed as she came abreast of him. 'Good night,' she said again, looking up into his face.

  He said nothing, and in seconds after she had passed him she heard the door close. Later, as she looked down from the wooden balcony of her bedroom, she heard music from below. He was listening to a recording of Beethoven's Symphony Number Five.

  A strange man, unpredictable as Mrs. Glynn had said. An embittered man who seemed to be drifting through life without an aim… a man unloved… ?

  Chapter Three

  The following evening Ramon went out and he had not returned when Paula, denied sleep for some reason she could not understand, turned out her bedlight at half-past one in the morning. She knew he had not returned because her ears had been alert for his passing her door, which he had to do to get to his own room farther along the corridor. Adela had cooked a delicious meal for Paula but she had no appetite and was obliged to apologise to the housekeeper who immediately asked if she were not feeling well.

  'I'm all right, but not hungry,' she said. 'I think I'll go to bed.' And all she did was lie there, wondering what was the matter with her. She was disturbed in a way she could not fathom, and impatient with herself because of it. She was restless often in the office, when she was working with Ramon; she became more restless when those brilliant dark eyes rested on her, as they often did of late.

  That he affected her as she had never been affected before she freely admitted, and she did wonder if she ought to leave his employ and return to England. Her mind was muddled, owing to her previous decision to stay, and to save furiously in case Denis should want to marry her in two years' time.

  But she was not now sure that she wanted to marry him…

  The sun was streaming into the courtyard when she got up and went to the window. It was a restful sight that met her gaze, with the fountain taking colour from the sun to create rainbows which in turn caught the light. Fragrant white ginger grew in the shade of a poinsettia tree, and in another part of the courtyard the shaded ground was dramatized by delightful rose and pink flowers of the Impatient Sultaness. Perfumes drifted up, assailing Paula's nostrils as she stepped out on to the balcony. A sigh escaped her; all this beauty and she was feeling unhappy.

  'What on earth is the matter with me?' she was saying as she lay in the scented bath water a few minutes later. 'I was so thrilled when I got this, job.'

  Ramon was not in the morning-room when she entered for breakfast, and when she asked Ana where he was the girl answered, in Spanish, 'He did not come home all night. I thought perhaps he had an accident, but when I said this to Adela she said no, it was quite all right. The senor often did not come home. I think there was a telephone message for you,' added Ana as if suddenly remembering to mention the matter.

  'Thank you, Ana. Has Adela got it?'

  'Yes, I think so.'

  Paula tried to eat but again she had no appetite for food. For some inexplicable reason she felt physically and mentally drained, as if an upheaval had taken place in her life. It was like this, she recalled, at the time her parents had sprung it on her that she was on her own, as they had both found other spouses and, inevitably, they must all part company.

  Paula felt neglected and had fallen into a web of dejection at the idea of being entirely alone. But why should she feel the same way again? She was not alone altogether, there was still Denis who would surely be writing to her soon, as she had already sent her address to the ship on which he was working.

  Adela gave her the message. She was to proceed to the office on her own, taking a taxi.

  'I will call it for you,' offered Adela, but Paula said she would walk.

  'I've plenty of time,' she added, managing a smile. 'I rather enjoy walking in the city.'

  This morning there was no enjoyment, though, and when she arrived at the office to find that her employer had not arrived a girdle of dejection surrounded her.

  It was time, she decided, to analyse her feelings for the man who was obviously a profligate, a man whom any sensible girl would avoid like the plague…

  He arrived soon after she did, looking cool and calm and faintly bored.

  He bade her good morning, his hawk-sharp glance seeming to take in her depression because a slight frown creased his brow as he added, 'You're all right? Adela looked after you last evening?'

  'Yes, of course she did.' Paula turned away, to settle down at her desk and after a silent, unfathomable moment during which Paula was acutely conscious of his eyes on her bent head, he left the office to enter his own.

  Paula sat beside her employer as he drove the car out of San Juan and along Route Three. He was silent, his handsome, Latin American features an expressionless mask. He seemed to be lost in thought, and Paula might as well not have been there, sitting beside hi
m. She was not feeling particularly happy, mainly owing to the awareness of the powerful attraction she had for her employer. It was no use pretending, no use continuing to thrust off what was undoubtedly there: she was falling in love with Ramon Calzada… and now was the time to make her escape, before she was inflicted with irreparable hurt.

  She had the greatest difficulty in understanding herself, for it was more than glaringly evident that even if he did by some miracle become interested in her it would be for one thing only: a swift and casual affair.

  Determinedly she switched her thoughts, glancing through the side window of the car to take in the scenery. Ramon had turned on to Route One-ninety-one and they were climbing up El Yunque, into the Caribbean National Forest. Forgetting all else in the wonders of nature surrounding her, Paula stared and stared, catching her breath as the car ascended into the cool, magical atmosphere of one of the most beautiful and luxuriant rain forests of the world.

  'It's wonderful,' she breathed, turning impulsively to her employer. 'I'd love to come up here and explore! There must be trails one can follow?'

  'Of course.' He turned his head. She felt his swift appraising look before he applied his attention to the road again.

  'You have nothing like this in your country?'

  'No, we don't get this amount of rain.' As her companion made no further comment Paula fell silent, her mind almost drugged by the rare, inescapable impressiveness of the landscape. She had never even imagined anything so magically unreal, so cool and primitive. As a bend was taken, the scene before her brought another gasp to her lips. Falling from a great height, caught in the sunlight, millions of gallons of crystal-clear water cascaded down from the mountainside to spume and swirl, then drop again after flowing beneath the road.

  'There are many waterfalls like that,' was Ramon's only response to the audible exclamation that issued from Paula's lips. Giant ferns reared up along the roadside; brilliant emerald vines entangled themselves inextricably among the branches of the trees that clothed the massif of El Yunque. The flashes of brilliant colour proclaimed the presence of parrots moving among the trees. 'Perhaps you would like to go to the observation tower?' suggested Ramon, surprising her.

  'Yes, please! The view must be exceptional.'

  'It is.'

  On their arrival there he remained silent, but his whole attention was with Paula, his dark eyes probing into hers if she should happen to look his way.

  Yet she almost forgot his presence as she stood, her eyes wide with wonderment, looking down over the emerald landscape which swept in gentle undulations down to a fantastically beautiful beach fringed with palms.

  'Come,' said her employer briskly at last, 'we have work to do.'

  He knew the exact spot where the accident had occurred, and after parking the car on the side of the road he got out. For the next hour he was walking about, measuring the road, the angles, while Paula wrote down all he was saying. Watching him intently, she saw his mouth become tight; his eyes, unfathomable as ever, moved about, taking in everything— almost every feature of the road and the forest on either side of it.

  She saw him nod his head and wondered what he had discovered.

  'Are you satisfied with what you have found out?' she ventured to ask.

  'Fairly. It is impossible to reconstruct an accident that took place up here, without a witness.'

  'But you still believe your client to be innocent?'

  'He is innocent,' was all Ramon said, and a few minutes later they were again in the car going back towards the restaurant where they had lunch of beef kebab roasted on a spit with a potato baked in its jacket. There were a few tourists, all Americans, all armed with mackintoshes. And they needed them. Ramon and Paula had barely covered two miles of the return journey when the rain came—a torrential tropical downpour which reduced visibility almost to nil and Ramon stopped the car.

  'It's terrific!' Paula shook her head in disbelief. If the heavens had opened wide there could not have been more water emptied on to the forest. She thought of the lovely orchids she had seen and felt they must surely be destroyed by the sheer weight and force of the deluge pouring over them. She remarked on this to Ramon and received the terse reply that more orchids would grow to replace what were destroyed. His tone was casual; she felt sure he had no more feeling for flowers and other growing things than he had for the women who flitted through his life.

  Suddenly he turned to her and surprised her by saying they would be dining out that evening. He was entertaining a client and his wife and Paula would be required to make a fourth at dinner.

  The place chosen proved to be the most luxurious hotel in Old San Juan, a renovated convent, with the interior decor and furnishings savouring of a Spanish Renaissance castle. The lobby was a treasure chest of antiques and so was the lounge where there were ancient wooden chests, elaborately-carved occasional tables, tapestries on the walls and old, hand-woven rugs on the floors. Paula's dress, which she had managed to buy at a greatly reduced price in a sale, was of French manufacture. Fine printed cotton in white and duck-egg blue, it had a full pleated skirt and tight-fitting bodice held up with a halter. An antique silver bracelet and silver ring were her only pieces of jewellery. She had been to the rest room and used exotic perfume, and as she met her employer in the lounge she sensed the slight movement of his nostrils, as if he were taking in the perfume. She managed a quivering smile which brought forth no response. And not for the first time Paula was wondering if her employer ever dropped that cold, inflexible exterior and became human.

  'We're rather early,' he said. 'Sit down. We'll have a drink while we're waiting.'

  She took possession of a chair and leant back, watching his impassive countenance as he gave the order to the waiter. He seemed immune to the attractions of lights playing on the various exotic plants, on the fountain, or even to the Spanish accordion player attired in colourful dress.

  The drinks arrived and then he did speak, to say that they would be returning to the hacienda on the following Thursday and would spend a long weekend there.

  'Shall we be working for part of the time?' she asked, picking up her drink and absently moving her glass so that the ice tinkled against the side.

  'Perhaps.' He looked keenly at her, his dark eyes having first flicked over her lovely figure. 'You have been working a good many extra hours lately; I might let you have the Friday off.'

  'Thank you.' She paused, and then, 'Can I look for a place of my own?'

  He shook his head at once.

  'I have already said it isn't practical.'

  'You can't want me in your home indefinitely,' she said.

  'Your presence does not trouble me in the least.' With unveiled indifference he picked up his glass and sipped his aperitif.

  'I would very much like to have my own place,' she persisted. Vitally aware of her weakness where his attractions were concerned, it would be far better if she left altogether, she thought, but if not that, then at least she must leave his home.

  'I'd rather have you under my eye,' he said, and Paula frowned and opened her mouth. But she soon closed it again on noting his expression, which was forbidding to say the least. If that were not enough there was a stern inflection of finality in his next words. 'Local girls are not allowed the freedom of the women in your country. While you are here you will be subject to the same restrictions which I would put upon a sister.' His firmness was absolute. Paula decided there was no argument against it and subsided into silence. 'Is there any special reason for your aversion to living at the hacienda?' he added after a pause.

  She felt the colour rise to her cheeks, and saw a fractional lift of his brows. The dark foreign eyes were impassive and yet she did wonder if, with his almost uncanny perception, he had guessed at her reason.

  'It's just that a woman likes her own place,' she answered hastily. 'To live in another person's home is not the same.' She glanced at him from under her lashes, still afraid he might have guessed at her feelings
… guessed that she was falling in love with him. No, he must not! It would be too humiliating. He would consider her to be no different from those others with whom he had become so impatient that he had decided to try an English woman, probably because, as he had declared, the English were cold.

  'Her own place…' The words came slowly, thoughtfully, while his foreign eyes remained focused on her face. He nodded slightly, as if something in his mind appealed to him. Paula, bewildered by his manner, picked up her glass and took rather more than she ought. 'Ah, here is my client and his wife.' Ramon made the introductions, and after a few seconds Paula found herself in conversation with Helena Perez, a glamorous brunette possessed of thoroughly patrician features and a spontaneity which Paula found both appealing and overwhelming at the same time, while Ramon was chatting with Don Luis, his client.

  But the conversations were soon interrupted by the appearance of a waiter with the menu and for a short period of time the various dishes were discussed, mainly for Paula's benefit.

  The Dining Terrace of the hotel overlooked the starlit harbour where the panorama of night-life had as its backdrop the hills highlighted by the glowing illuminations of the town. Along the waterfront many small cafes flaunted their signs, all advertising the best sea food on the island. There was movement and music and a magical blending of form and colour as the twinkling lights from the waterfront melded with the moonbeams glittering on the tranquil sea. All this complemented the romantic, candlelit ambiance of the Dining Terrace itself.

  Paula chose flounder stuffed with crab as a starter, and this was followed by lamb cutlets with artichokes and water chestnuts. The other three preferred red wine and Ramon, remembering that Paula did not like red wine, ordered her a half bottle of dry white. She looked at him in surprise and saw a look of sardonic amusement in his eyes.

  The evening passed pleasantly, but all the time Paula was on tenterhooks without knowing why. Every glance sent by her employer unnerved her, gave her a skin-prickling feeling as of something unexpected pending.