Caribbean Cocktail

by Jane Corrie

  At the mention of Greg, Sylvia immediately brightened. 'He's nice, isn't he, Cassy?' she said enthusiastically, 'and I did so want a date with him. I'd seen him often, just had a chat now and again, but you saw how shy he was. I was sure he wanted to ask me out but couldn't work up enough courage. I think he asked Justin to fix it for him.' She was silent for a few seconds as her eyes scanned the sea shore. 'It's absolutely ridiculous, I know, but it's as if we were meant to meet. I know him so well, yet hardly at all. It's as if we were right for each other and I somehow know we belong.'

  She gave Cassy a sideways grin. `Oh, I know I've had crushes on other men, particularly handsome ones, but they were only crushes, I can see that now. This is

  real, and this is forever. I know it,' she said simply.

  Cassy gave her a startled look. She didn't want Sylvia to get hurt. 'It's probably the island,' she said dryly, trying to make light of her words. 'I've heard tropical islands do things to you. Just keep one foot on the ground, dear, that way it's not so far to fall.'

  To Cassy's further consternation, Sylvia made no attempt to assure her of the sincerity of her words, but just said quietly, 'You'll see,' and left it at that.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CASSY and Sylvia parted company just after four, as Sylvia had arranged to meet Greg at five. 'I only hope Justin hasn't made any plans for the evening,' she said a little worriedly before she left, but Cassy remained firm and ignored the silent plea.

  just say you've a solo date with Greg,' she said complacently, 'and that I've made other plans. It should be easy.' She gave the worried Sylvia a smile. `Don't worry, dear. I've a feeling he'll be relieved that all is taken care of. He must have some other things he'd rather be doing than act as nursemaid to a couple of little green girls !'

  This ought to have reassured Sylvia, but judging by her hopeful nod she was not utterly convinced of this, but had to abide by Cassy's decision to bow out of any future tours.

  As the bedroom door closed behind her, Cassy felt relief flow over her. Greg would see that she was kept fully occupied, and that left Cassy free to follow her own inclinations for the rest of her holiday.

  Her step was light as she walked over to the dressing table and retrieved the itinerary she had carefully mapped out earlier, and studied the brochures. There were several evening tours listed, but they consisted of visits to the island's night spots, and Cassy felt no inclination towards any such entertainment, and even if she had, the chances were that she would run into

  Sylvia or Greg, or worse still, Justin Pride!

  With a sigh of contentment she put a tick against one of the listed tours. She would take that one the next day, and have dinner in the hotel this evening, and an early night. It was a wonderful feeling to be able to plan one's own entertainment and not feel beholden to anyone else. She thanked providence for the timely intervention of Greg Storn, as she had no worries now about letting Sylvia down, and she could just please herself. All she had to remember to do was to book the tour before she retired for the night.

  The sun was still shining with almost as much strength as it had earlier in the day as she went back to the beach to continue her sunbathing. She noted that further along the beach there were several tables set out under large parasols from where refreshments were being served, and hoping that it would be possible to obtain a cup of tea, she made her way through the reclining sunbathers strewn out on the white sands, and towards the refreshment area.

  The tea was not quite the same as that served at home—for instance, tea bags were used, and instead of asking for 'milk' one had to request 'cream', but once all this was straightened out, the beverage was quite acceptable.

  After her thirst had been quenched, Cassy settled down on one of the numerous loungers and watched a few yachts tacking round a buoy in the distance, the bright red and orange and blue sails adding even more colour to the naturally bright vista.

  While she watched the different tactics employed in what she presumed to be a race of some kind, her thoughts returned to Sylvia and Greg, and the sur-

  prising statement Sylvia had made earlier. She had seemed so positive, thought Cassy, and for all her 'mad moments' she was normally a basically.sensible person. She had never minded being teased, and was always ready to admit her mistakes, and in a way, very much like Cassy herself. She also had the same sense of humour as Cassy, yet she had not risen to Cassy's teasing comment on 'tropical effects'.

  Cassy turned over on to her stomach to let the sun caress her back. Sylvia's reaction had been much like her own, she mused, when Sylvia had teased her about Justin Pride. She moved restlessly and readjusted her position on the lounger; she did not want to think about that man, or the effect he had on her—and that was tropical, there was not much doubt of that, and at least she had had the sense to see it.

  One thing was certain now, she thought sadly, if the romance Sylvia was so sure would blossom happened to fizzle out, then she would be heading home like a homing pigeon, for there was no doubt that it would hit her hard if her hopes came to nothing and Greg was only indulging in a holiday romance.

  Cassy's smooth forehead creased at the thought; from what she had seen of him she felt this was most unlikely. As Sylvia had said, one had a feeling about such things, and Cassy had to admit that in all probability it was the real thing for both of them.

  It had not been hard to elicit a few facts from Sylvia about Greg. He was a professional golfer, and was apparently quite well known in the States. He had, confided Sylvia, been very reticent about his previous wins, and she had taken this as a sign that he had done very well in his chosen career. Cassy had also

  leamt that he came of a golfing family, and he was now upholding the family tradifion of making their mark in the golfing world.

  At least the family was respectable, Cassy thought with an inward grin as she visualised her uncle's reaction to the news of his daughter's involvement with Greg—if it ever got that far, she reminded herself. She gave another small smile as she recalled his remarks about the possibility of her picking up 'some beachcomber'. If anyone had been landed with a 'beachcomber' she had! A very high class one, of course, but definitely a soldier of fortune with no visible means of support.

  Her smile faded on this thought. She was not being exactly fair to Justin in labelling him as such, she didn't know enough about him to categorically label him as a playboy. She gave a small sigh. She couldn't see what else he could be, living as he did. He would know all the best families, and with his looks and charm would have the entrée to wherever the moneyed set settled, hence his habit, as she had learned from Sylvia, of travelling round the islands.

  Her lovely blue eyes narrowed at this thought; he would always be sure of a welcome--parficularly from the rich lonely women who required an escort. Cassy found this thought not only distasteful but hurtful, and she was vaguely surprised at the intensity of her feelings. What did it matter to her what he did, who he saw, or where he went? It was his way of life and nothing to do with her.

  She lay back and closed her eyes in an effort to shut out a few unwelcome thoughts that were hovering at the back of her mind. 'The kennels—she would con-

  centrate on them, and how she would furnish the house when she got back. There was so much ahead of her, so why waste time thinking about someone who could never mean anything to her once she had left the island, and whose existence she would have completely forgotten by the time the plane touched down in England.

  After a few determined attempts to concentrate on what would be essential items to be purchased as soon as she returned home, Cassy gave it up, finding it impossible to give the matter serious thought. It all seemed so far away and somehow improbable, and considering it was all that she had ever wanted, she found this state of affairs most disquieting, and blamed the island for her lack of interest.

  As she prepared herself for her lonely dinner in the hotel, she hoped she would be lucky in obtaining a solitary table as she did not feel i
n the mood for breezy conversation. She was not a good mixer, and found it hard to keep up a sparkling contribution on whatever subject was introduced.

  She had not been too sure of what to wear, either, and had settled for a maroon three-quarter-length tiered skirt with a peasant styled blouse. That was quite passable, she thought, as she gave herself a last look over before going to face the first sitting.

  An abrupt knock on her bedroom door made her firm her lips together as she waited for Sylvia to enter, and if she was hoping to persuade Cassy to join them for the evening, she had a disappointment coming! Her brows lifted slightly when the knock was repeated, this time with more insistence, and she realised it was not Sylvia, and felt a little calmer as she went to answer the

  knock. It was probably one of the hotel staff, she thought, and a second later she was staring into Justin's grey mocking eyes.

  Her first shocked reaction was to step back and close the door smartly, but she managed to control this purely defensive action since it was hardly polite.

  `Good ! ' said Justin, giving her a swift appraisal. 'I do like punctuality.'

  Cassy continued to stare at him, then swallowed hastily as the old resentment of the man overcame her. `I was not aware we had a date,' she said coldly. 'I was just going down to dinner.'

  He just looked at her, and she felt the colour rise in her cheeks. Then he gave an elaborate sigh. 'I've already had to cancel a table for four,' he said slowly but meaningly, 'and have no intention of cancelling my amended order for a table for two. I can understand Sylvia and Greg's wish for a solo date, what's your excuse?' he demanded.

  Cassy wished fervently that she could tell him. `Sylvia told me of her plans for this evening,' she lied, `so naturally I thought ...' She hesitated, then as her eyes met his very knowing ones, she saw no reason to beat about the bush. 'Surely there's something else you'd rather be doing, isn't there?' she demanded. `We're very grateful for the trouble you've gone to on our behalf so far, but really there's no need to put yourself out of your routine like this.' Her blue eyes met his squarely as she said, 'I'm sure you can find someone else to take out to dinner, even at this short notice.'

  Justin continued to watch her, and Cassy almost squirmed under his direct scrutiny. She had spoken the truth after all, and he should be grateful to her!

  'As a matter of fact, I suppose I could,' he answered casually, and Cassy knew he was not boasting, just stating a plain fact, 'but I'm not,' he said bluntly. I happen to want to take you out to dinner.'

  Cassy's cheeks tinged a deeper pink. 'Why?' she demanded with a glint in her eyes. If he could be blunt, so could she !

  I think the answer would surprise you,' he said softly, and gave her a challenging look. w ell? Are you ready?'

  A confused Cassy just looked at him; he was railroading her again into doing something she did not want to do. 'Is this the way you usually make dates?' she asked with a touch of incredulity in her voice.

  Justin gave a low chuckle, and taking the key she held in her hand from her, shepherded her out of the room and into the corridor, then locked the door for her before replying breezily, 'Only when necessary.'

  The restaurant Justin took her to was Spanish in every conceivable way. Food and decor echoed the past grandeur of Spain, and as they walked into the dining room, the rich colours of burnt orange and gold painted on the walls and ceiling that glowed in the ornate lighting gave the large room an intimate atmosphere that was not lost on Cassy.

  This time Justin did not hand her the menu but ordered the meal in his usual autocratic way, and Cassy, trying not to look as overawed as she felt, gazed around at what looked at first sight a very small restaurant, but appearances were deceptive, for she noticed that at the end of the room was an alcove that led to further dining space. Her attention was next held by the various objets d'art hung on the walls around the

  room, that consisted mostly of plaques with carved effigies depicting bygone battle scenes of proud armour-clad Spaniards with swords upraised, putting their enemies to flight.

  So absorbed did Cassy become in these detailed plaques that she was not aware that she was receiving just as much scrutiny from the silent man who sat opposite her, and it wasn't until she switched her attention from one plaque to another that she became aware of it, and glanced back at him, flushing a little under that steady gaze of his.

  `Why are you called Cassy?' he asked. I presume your name is Cassandra?'

  Cassy gave a nod of confirmation, and still feeling embarrassed, she tried to bring a light note into the conversation. 'You must agree it's rather a mouthful,' she said lightly. 'No one calls me Cassandra now. My father used to, but as it was his choice of name, I suppose he would.' She was silent after this, not knowing what else to say.

  `And you lost your parents when you were quite young?' he asked.

  Again Cassy nodded, well aware of what was going through his mind, and at any moment now he would start to question her about her supposed affair with Sylvia's father. He would have no conscience about bringing up such a personal subject, but Cassy had no intention of discussing such an embarrassing situation with him—then or ever ! 'What a quaint place this is,' she said quickly, and stared round at the room again. 'Are those plaques made of oak? They look as though they might be,' she went on, now almost bab-

  bling in her anxiety to keep the conversation on purely impersonal lines.

  Justin gave her a long considering look that told her that he knew very well that she was determined to evade the issue, and he was just as determined to pursue it. However, he answered her query casually enough. 'Very probably; I imagine they're extremely weighty objects.'

  The waiter appeared with the first course, much to Cassy's relief, and the subject she was so keen to drop was put aside for the time being, although something told her she would not be able to avoid the issue for long, particularly as she did not know how they were going to fill in the rest of the evening. As far as she-could see, this was purely a restaurant with no facilities for dancing, and that meant every chance of a cosy chit-chat later with the very knowing character sitting opposite her. Cassy wondered which was the worst of the two evils, that, or spending the evening in his arms on the dance floor. Either way, it was not a very bright outlook for her, and as Mrs Peel was wont to say when things were not going exactly smoothly, 'Everything points to misery!'

  After the meal, that was surprisingly good in spite of the fact that the dishes were entirely new to her palate, and were wholly Spanish, Cassy sat back feeling replete, but rather apprehensive as to the next move on the agenda, and did not know whether to be worried or relieved when he suggested they take in a night show. At least he made it sound like a suggestion, but Cassy, who was beginning to know him a little better, knew that that was just what they would do. Justin had already made his plans for the evening, and all she was

  expected to do was to go along in his autocratic wake.

  As the show had begun by the time they reached the chosen night club, Cassy found herself being guided to a table in semi-darkness with Justin's arm around her slim waist, and she felt that a slight touch on her arm would have been enough of a guide for her, without the closer proximity he was giving her, but the feminine side of her had no objection!

  A short while later, in spite of her certainty that it would be impossible for her to enjoy herself in his company, she soon became enthralled by the exciting and seemingly impossible feats performed by the entertainers, particularly the limbo dancers, as she watched their tall lithe bodies slither under a raised cane less than a foot above ground, with a gracefulness that had to be seen to be believed.

  This was followed by other acts; there was a fire dancer, and a shake dancer who in Caribbean fashion danced to calypso music, and finally the foot-tapping rhythm of the steel dums.

  When the show ended and Justin escorted Cassy back to the car, she had to admit to herself that she had thoroughly enjoyed the evening, and in all fairness she had to tell h
im so. This she would do when she bade him goodnight, also thank him for the trouble he had gone to to provide an evening's entertainment for her.

  Her thoughts roamed on as the car started up and glided out of the car parking area. He had behaved so correctly during the evening that her previous fears of his demanding some compensation for his company had now entirely vanished, since she was now convinced that lie was putting himself out on Sylvia's be-

  half. Although this meant that the subject that she had successfully avoided so far would soon be brought into sharp focus again, Cassy was so lulled by the excellent dinner and wine, and the following entertainment, that she felt no animosity towards him; how could she, when he was rooting for Sylvia's happiness?

  In this complacent, almost lethargic, but pleasantly so, mood, Cassy wanted to tell him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. She gave a little chuckle as these thoughts went through her mind. It was as if she was in the witness box fighting for her good name--which in a manner of speaking was precisely what she was trying to do.

  Her chuckle brought Justin's look swivelling round at her before he gave the road his attention again. 'Happy?' he queried lightly.

  Cassy stole a quick look at his strong profile before she answered softly, thoroughly enjoyed the evening. Thank you, Mr Pride. I really do appreciate your giving up your time like this.'

  Justin gave her another of those swift appraisals of his, then replied in a slightly aggrieved tone, I would prefer you to call me Justin. Mr Pride sounds so formal, doesn't it? I'm glad you enjoyed the evening. Tomorrow we'll take in the rest of the island. I'm not sure about Sylvia, though; I've a feeling she'll want to watch Greg's game; it's a semi-final, you know.'