by Jane Corrie
Cassy stared at her in bewilderment, then as a thought struck her, her face brightened. 'You've told him the truth, then?' she said delightedly. 'Oh, Sylvia, I'm proud of you!' she added fervently, knowing it could not have been easy for her to own up.
`Er—not exactly,' murmured Sylvia, hastily concentrating her gaze on the assorted brochures, and gave a deep sigh. 'I think I would have done if Justin hadn't offered another way out,' she said slowly.
Cassy's delight faded, and she gave Sylvia a wary look. 'Such as?' she queried sceptically, thinking that she would need those brochures after all. If Sylvia thought she would enjoy a tour of the town in that man's company, particularly after the way he had
looked at her, she had another think coming!
`I tried to keep out of Justin's way after you'd left,' explained Sylvia. 'I was so miserable—it seemed so awful—you being here, and me being there ...' She gulped hastily. 'And I was trying to summon up enough courage to tell him the truth, and everything seemed to have gone wrong, so I had a good howl.' She looked back at Cassy. 'That's why I didn't want to meet him for a while—I mean, he'd see that I'd been crying.' She swallowed hard. 'Anyway, as luck would have it, I bumped into him in the lounge next to the dining room, and that was that.'
Cassy was able to feel a twinge of sympathy for her. She had felt the same way about things on the way back to her hotel, but if she had not gone overboard like that at her sudden appearance, they would not be in this situation. 'So?' she asked, still with that wary look in her eyes. She would go along with the sympathy, but that was all.
`Well,' gulped Sylvia, 'he could see that I was upset, and of course he thought it was because of you and my father. He said something about the sad facts of life,' she shrugged her shoulders, 'I don't really remember what, as I was about to start howling again and was doing my best not to. Anyway, I said I didn't care about my father, but I did care about you, and how awful it was that I wouldn't be seeing you during your stay. I would have told him the truth then, but he made this marvellous suggestion.'
She smiled back at Cassy tremulously. 'Please, Cassy, don't turn his offer down,' she pleaded. 'I think he's got some idea of helping us to patch up the quarrel we're supposed to have had.' She gave her an earnest
look. I think he likes you,' she said frankly. 'I'm sure he doesn't see you as the scheming hussy I described to him—or perhaps he wants to judge for himself. He does know how fond I am of you, and it's very kind of him to take the trouble to help me out, isn't it? So you will come, won't you?' she entreated Cassy.
Cassy took a deep breath; she wanted to refuse but knew she couldn't. She was extremely curious as to why such a smooth character as she judged the man. Justin to be should take such an interest in their affairs, and the old suspicion reared up again that he was out for some mercenary recompense. Would he have bothered if Sylvia's family had not been so well endowed? Somehow she didn't think so. In which case, he wasn't the only one who would be doing a certain amount of judging. She had no intention of leaving Nassau before she had ascertained just where his interests lay. As for liking her—she almost snorted, he would be waiting to see which side of the fence it would be most profitable for him to sit on!
She flung an almost regretful look towards the list she had started to compose; she would not discard it, it 'night come in handy yet! 'Very well,' she replied, ignoring Sylvia's whoop of joy, 'but how are we to behave towards each other? I refuse to be subjected to the kind of treatment you dished out this morning, because if that's the way it's going to be, I'm staying put,' she warned Sylvia.
Sylvia squeezed her hand. 'As if I could keep that up,' she said breezily. `No, we shall be the best of friends. It was all on my side, anyway. I let Justin talk me round, or at least think he had. He said nothing was accomplished by enmity, and he saw that you were
quite willing to remain friends with me, which of course, you would be, wouldn't you? Especially if you hoped to become my stepmamma ' she added with a wicked imp of amusement in her eyes.
The straight look Cassy tried to give her wilted under this outrageous statement, and she was unable to prevent a strangled chuckle from escaping. 'Oh, Sylvia you are incorrigible!' she said, as she gathered up her list and the brochures, and tucked them into the dressing table drawer. Then she ran a comb through her short curls and picking up her bag, lifted one expressive eyebrow at the grinning Sylvia. 'Well, what are we waiting for?' she demanded. 'Take me to your leader !'
Sylvia' s 'leader' was talking to a stout prosperous-looking man in the hotel reception area, and on seeing the approach of the girls he immediately broke off the conversation with, `Ah, here's my party. See you, John,' and walked towards the girls.
Cassy felt his eyes linger on her as he walked towards them, and although his welcoming smile was supposed to encompass both the girls, she was certain it was not quite so open as his glance met hers.
`This is Justin Pride, Cassy,' said Sylvia a little belatedly, as she realised they had not yet been introduced. 'And this is Cassy Aden, my best friend, Justin,' she added quickly, as if to assure him that all was forgiven.
As Cassy's small hand was taken by the large strong brown one, she did a quick inventory of the man who gave her hand a hard shake. His casual wear 'of blue and white checked shirt, with grey tapered slacks and light blue sneakers, made him appear no different from
any other tourist out for an afternoon's sightseeing, yet there was something about him that would make him stand out from the usual medley of tourists, and she tried to pinpoint what it was, apart from his deep tan. It could have been his haughty expression that proclaimed that here was a man who knew his way around —in more ways than one, she thought darkly, as she gave a brief nod to his casual, 'Shall we go?' and found herself shepherded with Sylvia out of the hotel and towards a large expensive-looking car that was probably of an American make.
There was ample room for the girls to sit side by side in the front of the car, and Cassy made sure that Sylvia sat next to her new-found friend, thus relieving her of any awkward conversation during the drive.
His deep well-modulated voice was pleasant to listen to, Cassy thought, as she heard him reply to several questions put to him by Sylvia about Nassau. It was not easy to identify his accent, although there were definite American undertones in it, yet not wholly so. Cosmopolitan was the word she wanted, she thought. As Sylvia had said, he had travelled quite a lot.
To Sylvia's 'Shall we have a look at the straw markets?' he gave an amused, 'You won't be able to miss them!' reply.
The road followed the coastline, and Cassy, concentrating on the sunlit vista presented, spotted a signpost that directed the traveller to the 'Love Beach', and her brows rose at this intriguing sign.
As the car followed the winding road, past palm trees whose fronds waved in the slight breeze, and the bright scarlet blossoms of the bougainvillaea of tree
size proportions, it was impossible to imagine oneself being anywhere else in the world but where they were —on a tropical island, and the thought thrilled Cassy, who was determined to enjoy every minute of her time there, in spite of the bad start she had been given.
Within a very short time they were entering the precincts of Nassau, along West Bay Street, and finally into Bay Street. The distance could not have been much more than four miles, Cassy surmised, and this made everything nice and handy for her if she found herself on her own, and judging by the quick surreptitious looks she received every now and again from the man at the wheel, this was more than just a possibility. It was odd really, she mused, that although he had made an effort to talk Sylvia round into taking a more understanding view of what was supposed to be her best friend's mercenary intentions, Cassy had a feeling his own view would not be quite so liberal. Of course, if he was just a kindly man out to help a girl in trouble, then Cassy would applaud these sentiments and be only too happy to bow out of the scene, no matter what Sylvia said. She was even agreeable to accepting the label of `go-ge
tter' under these circumstances, particularly if Sylvia was able to land herself a job. However, as things stood, Cassy was not yet convinced that the man's intentions were wholly altruistic.
As the car glided along the main thoroughfare of the capital of New Providence, Cassy determinedly thrust all these thoughts aside and concentrated on the tour of the city. Her eager eyes skimmed the tree-lined road bathed in sunshine. Here again, palm trees intermingled with other trees that she could not identify. White and pink stone buildings loomed up in
front of them, and on either side of them could be seen the shopping areas. The traffic here was denser than it had been before, and Cassy noticed that it was the same as in England, as far as traffic rules prevailed, for they were driving down the left side of the road.
Cassy,' exclaimed Sylvia, 'there's a horse-drawn carriage—and look at that straw hat the horse is wearing—isn't it gorgeous ! I want to get a straw hat myself.'
'We can take one of the carriages for part of the tour,' remarked Justin. 'As for buying a hat, you'll be spoilt for choice in a minute,' he added in an amused tone, as he guided the car into a parking space by a lawned square surrounded by palm trees.
As they alighted, Sylvia squeezed Cassy's arm in a manner that showed her happiness at her presence, and her eager anticipation of the tour. Cassy only hoped that this happy state of affairs would prevail, but she had an odd sensation that it was not going to be as easy as that.
'Did you say you wanted a hat?' queried an amused Cassy a few minutes later, as they looked at stall after stall of straw millinery wear, and not only hats. There were bags, handbags, straw donkeys of toy size, and tiny dolls, some dangling from string in the front, and at the side of the stalls, and others lined up on the ground in rows.
The brilliant colours of the silks woven into each article was the first thing that caught the eye. No matter how small, and some of the dolls were very small, all were embroidered with the rich gay silks. Even the tiny straw hats sported by the toy donkeys had been industriously decorated.
The happy chatter that came from the numerous stallholders as they vied for custom from the milling crowd of tourists searching for bargains, and bartering for some special item that had caught their eye, added atmosphere to the scene. As for the hat Sylvia had said she wanted, she was indeed spoilt for choice, the only difficulty being which type to choose. Cassy rather favoured the same type as the plump, smiling stallholder was wearing, and that was a Chinese coolie style with a bright blue flower woven into the conical shaped crown.
In the cool recesses of the stalls, the women could be seen at work weaving the wares they sold. It was a happy thriving industry, that almost made Cassy envy them their, industrious but easy-going life. Trade was good, in spite of the numerous stalls to choose from, for there was enough custom for all to get a fair share of trade. As Justin explained to the girls, apart from the usual tourists who spent their vacations there, there were the visits of the cruise ships that tied up in port at least twice a week, and landed passengers for inland tours and shopping sprees.
As he spoke Cassy's gaze went over his strong features and she noted that she had been right in thinking that his eyes were grey, a bluish grey that would probably alter with his mood, and again it struck her that for a man of his stamp he was taking an extraordinary interest in Sylvia's fictitious story. Her glance lingered on the gold watch on his wrist. A strong wrist, she thought idly, as she saw how the sun had bleached the hairs on his wrist that overlapped the gold link-chained strap.
`I think you ought to purchase a hat, too,' suddenly
remarked the man Cassy had been covertly studying, and she came to with a start when she realised that he was referring to her.
`There's an orange embroidered one that would suit you, Cassy,' said Sylvia. 'Come on; you get that one, and I'll get the blue one next to it. Justin's right, it does get hot here, and we don't want to land up like poor Mr Marchant, do we?'
Cassy allowed herself to be pulled over to the stall from which Sylvia had spotted the hat she thought might suit Cassy, and even though the next few minutes were spent in good-humoured bargaining for the required hats, Cassy could not rid herself of a feeling that the man had been perfectly aware that she had been mentally summing him up, and it gave her a sharp jolt. She hadn't been that obvious, had she?
After the girls had made their purchases and emerged mistakenly triumphant with what they had presumed to be a bargain, Justin pointed out that they could have got a better price, but at least justice had been done on all counts, and all parties were satisfied.
On Justin's light, 'Ready to move on?' both girls nodded assent, and followed his tall back out of the market and through to an arcade supported by white stone pillars. 'This is Sunley Arcade,' he said, 'if there's anything else you need.' He glanced again at Cassy, and again she wondered why he had to confine his remarks to her. 'Such as sunglasses,' he suggested, 'or whatever, you'd better purchase them now, we'll be moving out of the town section after this.'
`I've got my sunglasses,' remarked Sylvia. 'I expect you have too, haven't you, Cassy?' she asked, then added swiftly, But we would like a peep at the shops,
if you don't mind, Justin? Wouldn't we, Cassy?' she appealed to her.
Cassy was not too sure about this, she felt that enough time had been taken up already on the purchase of hats, and was sure the man had a host of other things he would rather be doing than escorting a couple of wide-eyed tourists around the island. We can come shopping another time,' she said hastily. 'It's not as if it's far to come, everything's so handy.' To be strictly honest, she hoped the man would agree, and that they would get the tour over with as quickly as possible and the girls would be left to their own devices, and only then could she really begin to enjoy herself.
'We've plenty of time,' he answered casually, dashing any hopes Cassy had had of a swift tour, and the quick almost assessing look he gave her told her that he was aware of her sentiments. 'It's part of the tour. There's quite a lot of interesting wares for sale that are confined only to the islands, as you'll see,' he remarked, as he led them into the bright sunlit arcade, made brighter after the short walk through the shady covered entrance to the arcade.
The minute they entered the square, all thought of shopping was temporarily thrust aside as the girls gazed in delight at the large fountain in the centre of the arcade, in the shape of a swimming pool, out of which rose two life-sized bronze statues, of a man and a woman, with the man leading the way with arms outstretched as if about to take wing out of the pool, and into the blue horizon, followed closely by the woman whose arms were raised in the same pose of glorious unfettered freedom. The illusion was completed by the
leaping bronze dolphins that played around the edge of the pool. The sparkling spray of the fountain seemed to bring the scene to life, and the girls were entranced.
In spite of the ample size of the fountain, there was plenty of room to walk around it and gaze into the windows of the shopping area that surrounded the fountain. There was greenery too, in the form of the same sort of trees that had lined the street they had passed through as they entered the capital, and as Cassy's eyes dwelt on the small light green leaves, she felt uplifted, and was even able to look kindly on her Uncle George for making her take the trip out there, for she doubted that she would ever come again.
As far as shopping went, there was plenty of choice, including one store that proudly called itself, 'The Dollar Shop', and offered many wares at the named price. Whatever might be required, Cassy was sure would be catered for in that one confined courtyard, although there were many shopping areas around the city, she doubted whether the setting would be quite so pleasant, for one could always sit by the fountain and watch the other tourists searching for bargains in that busy yet relaxed atmosphere.
There was one item that Cassy had forgotten to bring, and that was a camera, but she hoped to be able to purchase some slides of each area visited before she returned home—and that sho
uld not be too difficult, she thought, as her eyes rested on a stand full of bright postcards showing various island- scenes; she could always purchase a few of those if slides were unavailable.
Perfumery shops were plentiful, and claimed the girls' attention, particularly where prices were con-
cerned, for all the known makes were prominently displayed, and after working out the dollar exchange rate, they realised that there were plenty of bargains to be had.
A peep into another shop called 'The Treasure Box' showed displays of pale pink jewellery made out of conch shells, and delicate necklaces of crushed coral. There were brooches and rings, also of crushed coral, that shimmered in a kaleidoscope of colour; soft reds, yellow, pink and black, not unlike a rainbow. Sylvia let out a gasp of pure delight as she spotted a gorgeous coral brooch shaped like a dahlia, the irradiance of the coral making it appear a living flower. Jewellery fascinated Sylvia, unlike Cassy, who only wore it when the occasion demanded, and even then only the barest amount.
Amidst Sylvia' s exclamations and frequent clutching of Cassy's arm when something caught her attention, Cassy found time to wonder at the patience shown by their escort, who now and again would make some comment, and did not seem at all embarrassed by the enraptured Sylvia. In all probability, she mused silently, he had done this sort of thing before, perhaps filled in as a guide to the better endowed visitors to the island. He had said something about it being part of the tour, hadn't he?
At this point Sylvia made another discovery. 'Oh, look, Cassy ! They even make jewellery out of coconut shells !'
`It has to go through several stages before it's ready for sale,' commented Justin. 'The fibre must first be removed, and then it's sanded and brushed. If it has to have a design, painted on it, such as that brooch
there,' he indicated a beautifully painted piece of jewellery, 'then that part of the shell has to be smoothed, and heat and varnish is applied before the design is painted on it. It's a lasting gift though, very durable.'
