by Anne Hampson
'Who is this person?' demanded Rosa, her eyes insolently raking Paula's body from head to foot. 'How does she come to be here… ?' Her voice trailed as enlightenment dawned. 'Ah… the English secretary Ramon mentioned to me. You live here, he was saying—'
'Can I ask who you are?' interrupted Paula, amazed at the steadiness of her voice when every nerve in her body was rioting. 'What has that to do with you?' the girl returned haughtily. 'Keep your place, girl! You're a servant; go back to your own quarters and mind your own business!'
Adela, deeply shocked, began to stammer in Spanish but Paula scarcely heard. It had struck her that this girl, Senora Donado, had accepted the fact that Ramon was not at home, since otherwise she would hardly be carrying on like this. Arrogant as Ramon was himself, Paula could not imagine his admiring arrogance in this visitor of his.
'I can manage this situation,' she found herself saying in an attempt to make the housekeeper feel more comfortable. 'You can go, Adela.'
Adela seemed a trifle reluctant, looking at Paula with concern, as if she were wondering if she needed support. At Paula's reassuring smile, however, she left the two girls alone, to stare at one another wordlessly for a moment, and it was Rosa who eventually broke the silence to ask, 'Are you Ramon's secretary?' with an edge of doubt in her voice that was immediately dispelled by her next words, 'Yes, you must be. Ramon said you were living here—'
'What is it you want?' Paula broke in tersely, marvelling at the cold dignity she was able to assume, and also wondering what was keeping her from saying she was Ramon's wife. 'As you know, Senor Calzada isn't in.'
'I'd like a drink.' Without ceremony, and taking Paula completely by surprise, she brushed past her and swept confidently into the lovely Blue and Gold Saloon. Barbs of jealousy seared Paula's nerves at the thought that this girl was so familiar with Ramon's house, the house in which she, Paula, was now mistress. 'When did your employer leave?' demanded Rosa, turning as she reached the centre of the room, 'and when will he be back?' Gliding over to a chair, she took possession of it, tossing away an unwanted cushion that missed the couch to which it was directed and landed on the floor not far from where Paula was standing. She looked at it, then walked away towards a cabinet containing drinks.
'You've been… seeing him?' She had no idea how a question like that escaped her and once it did she frowned, wishing she could draw it back.
'Of course,' with a disdainful flick of her dark eyes as she delved into her handbag for the gold case from which she extracted a cigarette. 'We're engaged to be married.'
Paula's eyes flew open, as well they might. She knew an almost hysterical desire to burst out laughing, and yet a great uneasiness was enveloping her, and she had a trembling feeling in the pit of her stomach, because she was recalling with vivid clarity her little access of suspicion that there was something about her marriage which she did not understand.
'Engaged?' she echoed at last. 'Since when have you been engaged to my—er—employer?'
Rosa was regarding her arrogantly through the film of blue smoke issuing from her lips.
'What's it to you?' she countered. 'like Adela, you forget your place! It's always been the trouble with Ramon's secretaries—they've failed to keep in mind that they're only servants!'
Paula's teeth clamped together; this was obviously the moment to crush this girl's arrogance by revealing who she was, yet a mixture of curiosity and perversity made her say instead, 'It surprises me that although you look upon me as a servant, you're not averse to carrying on a conversation with me. Surely,' she added with a sort of acid sweetness, 'your dignity is suffering very greatly?'
Rosa's eyes narrowed to slits.
'You're impertinent!' she snapped. 'I shall certainly have something to say to Ramon about your conduct!'
Paula made no response, for although outwardly calm there was turbulence within her, as there was so much she did not understand. Also, this encounter with one of her husband's ex-girlfriends was something she had not contemplated and she was now wondering how many more would be calling here before it became known that Ramon was married. She reflected, too, on what Denis would say were he to learn that she had married a man—a foreigner— whom she knew to be a rake, a womaniser whose opinion of her sex in general was by no means flattering. She was even asking herself if she had done the right thing, aware that she had been carried away in that magic moment when Ramon had asked her to marry him. All her love had flowed through her veins when, after her few feeble hesitancies had been vanquished, it was released from the tight rein she had been keeping on it.
Attempting to hide her anxiety, she looked at the other girl, and after a moment heard her say, 'If Ramon takes my advice, he'll get rid of you right away.'
Paula said, watching the girl closely, 'That would be difficult because, you see, we signed a contract—'
'Contracts of that nature aren't worth the paper they are written on!' broke in Rosa impatiently. 'I might as well warn you that once Ramon and I are married you'll be sent packing, along with that insolent housekeeper of his!'
Paula was about to enlighten the girl but still she hesitated, and after a thoughtful pause she said curiously, 'You say you're engaged to my—to Ramon. I was not aware that he had been seriously keeping company with anyone.'
The girl stared straight at her.
'It so happens that Ramon and I were engaged some years ago—' She stopped abruptly, a gleam of anger in her eyes. 'You called him Ramon. He is Senor Calzada to you, girl! Just you remember that!'
Fury brought swift colour into Paula's cheeks. But it was the girl's first words that were making the most impression on her mind.
'Then you must be the girl who jilted him? You're married to someone else—'
'I was married,' corrected Rosa, cutting rudely into Paula's words. 'I'm divorced and, therefore, free to marry Ramon.' She frowned suddenly. 'How do you know about Ramon and me—and the broken engagement?'
'He told me about it!'
'I don't believe you. Ramon was never that personal with his secretaries. It must be the servants who've been gossiping to you!'
'You haven't said what you would like to drink,' Paula reminded her, still amazed by her own attitude of composure. 'I ask because I feel you are going to need something to sustain you in a moment or two.'
Rosa, about to extinguish her cigarette in the crystal ashtray which Paula had placed on the table at her elbow, sent her a startled glance.
'What are you talking about?' she demanded, raking Paula with her eyes. 'There's something strange about you.'
Paula nodded and asked again what she was drinking.
'Whisky—with a little water.'
Paula got it for her, placing it on a table at Rosa's elbow. She stood a moment as the Spanish girl picked up the glass and stared into its contents.
'You said just now that there is something strange about me.' Paula was walking away as she spoke. 'It's understandable that you should think so.' She reached a chair and sat down, crossing her slender legs over one another as she leant back against the cushions. 'You also said that you are engaged to Ramon—' She stopped to look straight at her, staring her out, determined to force her to lower her eyes, which she eventually did. 'That wasn't true—'
'Perhaps I should have said we are almost engaged,' amended Rosa, some of her self-confidence deserting her. 'I don't understand how you come to know so much about me—us— Ramon and I, but—'
'The reason,' broke in Paula quietly, 'is simple. Ramon and I were married recently, and naturally we had already exchanged confidences.'
'You—!' Rosa's face changed colour, a greyish tinge creeping into the glowing peach-tan of her cheeks. 'What did you say?'
'I believe you heard. Ramon is my husband.'
'I don't believe you!' cried Rosa in a rising voice. 'What kind of a joke is this? You must be out of your mind to make a statement like that!' Her eyes went automatically to Paula's left hand and she flinched.
'I assure you my mind is exceedingly clear on the particular matter of our wedding. You see, it took place less than a fortnight ago.'
Rosa's face was a ghastly yellow now, and her mouth was twisting convulsively.
'It—it isn't true…' Every vestige of arrogance had dissolved; Rosa looked shattered, broken and ready to cry. But, glancing at Paula, sitting there so composed, she seemed to rally as swiftly as if a magic wand had been waved over her. She leant forward to stub out her cigarette; the somewhat fumbling action and the subsequent flexing of her white hands were the only sign of emotion she betrayed. But Paula had no difficulty in guessing at the severe turbulence that raged within her. For some reason—which Paula was hoping to discover—Rosa had believed that she was to have a second chance with the man she had jilted years ago, and there was no doubt at all that the information she had just received was a blow that had a nerve-shattering effect on her. 'I can't believe it's true,' she continued when she had taken a drink of her whisky. 'We've been going out together…' Her voice trailed and she shook her head in bewilderment.
'Not regularly,' inserted Paula, thinking of the other women whom Ramon had been seeing since she came to work for him. There had been at least three.
'But he was serious,' stated Rosa vehemently. 'He said, only three weeks ago, that he loved me, that he had never loved another woman and never could.'
It was Paula's turn to change colour, the blood drained from her face. Like one lightning flash after another small incidents leapt into her mind, all combining to strengthen the possibility that this girl was speaking the truth when she maintained that Ramon had said he could never love another woman.
'My husband certainly loves me,' she had to say, desperately trying to convince herself rather than the other girl.
'No, you are quite wrong,' argued Rosa convincingly. 'Ramon never married simply because he loved me. When I was free we met again and he said he still loved me. We went about together and I suspected he was attempting to fight the attraction I had for him. But he could never succeed; his love for me was far too strong.' Rosa's voice had sunk almost to a whisper and it was plain that she was talking to herself, having forgotten Paula's presence altogether. 'But he did say, more than once, that revenge was one of the sweetest things in life. He said, too, that he was not the man ever to forgive a wrong done to him.' Rosa was staring in front of her with unseeing eyes. Fascinated, Paula watched her, avid for more even while her spirits were sinking with every word the girl uttered. 'He did it for revenge; he led me on by his charming manner, making me believe that he would not be able to resist me, that he must eventually ask me to marry him.' The vacant expression disappeared for an instant as she glanced across at Paula. 'Yes,' she murmured, becoming distant again, 'he did it for revenge… it's proved by the speed. He wanted to hurt me, and at the same time I am sure he was afraid… afraid that if he didn't marry quickly he would weaken…'Rosa expelled a breath in a quivering sigh that was almost a sob. 'What a fool he is! Already he must be regretting it!' The voice rose louder, its sudden harshness a rasp on Paula's sensitive ears. 'Revenge, girl! If he's a fool, then you're a bigger one! Did you really believe he could fall in love with you in that short time? Or perhaps you didn't care. After all, his wealth would compensate, wouldn't it? Being Ramon's wife must be much more comfortable than being his secretary.' She spoke more loudly than ever, spitting out her words. Paula shuddered at her increasing lack of control as she flung herself out of the chair and began pacing the floor. 'He did it for revenge!' she cried, repeating it over and over again. 'Do you hear me—and understand? Are you coming from your fool's paradise and accepting what I say as the truth?'
'I do not accept it,' said Paula firmly, but she knew she lied. 'My husband does love me. He told me so.'
'He'd have to, wouldn't he?' The sneer in her voice was reflected in the dark Spanish eyes as Rosa added, stopping right in front of Paula's chair and standing over her, 'Only a stupid, gullible Englishwoman would be taken in like that. He's so handsome, isn't he? And Englishwomen are highly romantic. Love is their very life, and you believed in a miracle—believed you'd succeeded where so many others had failed. Pompous creature! Why, you're little more than plain—the last woman who could attract Ramon.' The voice was frenzied now, grating on Paula's ears. She was trembling in every nerve in her body, sick with the feeling of emptiness in the pit of her stomach. For she was convinced, totally, that everything said by Rosa was true. Ramon had married for revenge, and Paula was the instrument of revenge. Without one thought for her feelings, or the hurt she would sustain, he had used her, callously, cruelly, to satisfy his insane desire to inflict hurt on the girl who had hurt him.
White to the lips, Paula flicked a hand to move the girl, who was so close she felt nauseated. Rosa stepped back and Paula rose from the chair.
'I'll ring for Adela to show you out,' she said stiffly. 'There is nothing else for you and I to say to one another.'
'You're admitting that it's me he loves?'
'He loves me,' was Paula's quiet rejoinder as, walking across the room, she pulled the bell-rope.
'You might say it, but you don't believe it,' sneered Rosa. 'It isn't possible that he could love you because he loves me. Even Ramon can't love two women at once. He'll come back to me,' she added when Paula did not speak. 'He allowed his hate to override his love and decided to hurt me even though it meant hurting himself at the same time. He must be unhappy, and you must be able to see it—but perhaps you manage to turn a blind eye—' She broke off as the door opened and Adela, looking anything but happy, came into the room.
'Show this woman out,' said Paula, turning away so that she had her back to Rosa.
'Yes, certainly.' Adela looked at Rosa. This way,' she said abruptly.
'I don't need you to show me out,' she snapped, raking Adela's buxom figure contemptuously. 'I know my way around this house—all of it!'
Paula's teeth clamped together as fury rose within her. But her chief emotion was not anger; it was pain, deep and excruciating, and with it came quite naturally a sort of dull resignation that her marriage was already on the rocks.
'Please go,' she said, swinging around as she realised that Rosa had not moved. It was a moment alive with tension as the three women stood there: Adela looking as if she would like to throw the girl out bodily, Paula, her face devoid of colour, willing the girl to leave before the cloud of tears behind her eyes could break, and Rosa, looking cool and self-assured, her dark eyes filled with a sort of pitying disdain.
'He'll come back to me—have no doubts about that.' She paused, obviously expecting to hear Paula-say something; when the silence continued she added, 'You believe all I've said, so what do you intend to do about it?'
'Nothing,' returned Paula tightly. 'I am married to Ramon and it stays that way.' Her eyes slid to the housekeeper's figure by the door. 'I have asked you to go,' she reminded Rosa. 'If you don't, I shall have to order you off the premises.'
'You're doing nothing?' Rosa's voice was a snarl as her confidence turned to fury. 'You intend to hold on to him—to a man who loves another woman? I can assure you that he'll already be regretting his impulsive action.' Her dark eyes were pools of venom but Paula could not see very well; her vision was impaired by the mist of tears escaping from the cloud behind her eyes. 'You'd play the dog-in-the-manger?' Rosa went on, flicking an arrogant hand at Adela who was trying to edge her from the room. 'Have you no pride?' Paula merely turned away and walked over to the window, her back to the room. She was trembling from head to foot, mortified and humiliated by the girl's outspokenness in front of the housekeeper. 'Ramon will compensate you financially, so you'll have much to gain.'
Money… Paula's lower lip quivered and she sobbed on an indrawn breath. What could money do to assuage the web of anguish surrounding her heart? Her tears came slowly and, fiercely angry at her weakness at this particular time, she swept them away, then turned again. Rosa came into her vision as the moisture cleared from her eye
s; she seemed like a monster, some vile untouchable creature that ought to be crawling in the dark places of the earth.
Closing her eyes tightly, Paula shut out the fanciful vision and, with her head held high, walked across the room to where Adela was standing at the door looking extremely uncomfortable. Rosa was picking up her cigarette case and lighter from the low table on which she had left them. Her handbag was on the chair, its flap open; she slipped the two gold objects within, closed the flap, then stood arrogantly looking at Paula.
Without even saying goodnight Paula went from the room, into the hall, and made for the stairs. But Rosa had a parting shot to deliver; she flung it at her as Paula began to mount the stairs.
'If Ramon decides he wants a divorce, then you can be sure he'll have one, no matter what you might think to the contrary. He'll make your life such a hell you'll be glad to give him what he wants!'
Chapter Seven
It was late in the evening when Ramon returned. Paula, standing on the terrace, saw the car arrive, sweeping in through the Spanish-style wrought-iron gates to slide to a standstill on the amber-lighted forecourt. She saw him get out, walk with the light easy strides of an athlete towards the front door where he became lost to her view. Her heart was pounding wildly; she felt she would have done anything in order to escape the coming meeting with the man who had treated her so ruthlessly. She tried to move but failed, and so she just stood there, pain searing her heart, tears filming her eyes. Vaguely she was conscious of the scent of frangipani blossoms drifting over the garden, of the enchantment of the sky intruding through the delicate tracery of tamarind leaves, purple with silver-tinted cirrus clouds floating away like lace from a bridal veil. Paula could not appreciate any of the beauty, for all that stirred her senses was the duplicity of her husband, and a burning desire for her own revenge.
