Island Of Pearls

by Margaret Rome

  "... of course we were proper little horrors, but there was no malice in our teasing, I assure you, we all adored her! Squirrel, Mouse, and Bunny were all experimented with, but nothing seemed to fit until we thought of Nut-brown, and that's what she's been to all her friends from that day to this."

  An old, familiar pain reared up inside Hazel, the pain once felt by a slow-to-mature girl caught up in the midst of companions full of cocksure adolescence, too intolerant or too uncaring to feel sympathy for a friend whose only companion outside school hours was an old lady with a mind attuned to the ways of a previous century. Catryn's laughter twisted the knife in a wound that had lain dormant for years and revived memories of times spent pleading with her grandmother for nylons to replace white knee-socks, a pert beret

  instead of the heavy felt regulation school hat... even her painstaking endeavour to shorten long, ungainly skirts had resulted in her having to endure a lengthy lecture on the sin of vanity as she was made to unpick every tiny stitch ...

  Tio Garcia was the first to notice her standing in the doorway, and the unguarded agony on her small pointed face sent him swiftly to meet her. With split-second intuition he wondered if Catryn really had been as friendly as she claimed with the girl who in looks and manner was her complete opposite. His hands pressed a warning around her frozen fingers as he greeted, 'Ah, miprincesa de los ojos de oro!" It was a kindly effort, but in the presence of Catryn, stunningly turned out in a shimmering silver dress with bodice daringly cut, his "princess of the golden eyes" felt disconcertingly dowdy. Tio Garcia's smile projected silent encouragement as he led her forward.

  "Darling!" Catryn scintillated, obviously delighted both with her surroundings and with her host. "We were just talking about you ! Strange how little you seem to have told this handsome husband of yours - he knows next to nothing about your past!"

  Surprisingly, it was Francisco who rescued her. She almost jerked away in fright when his arm reached out to encircle her waist, but his grip warned her to remain still, and to make doubly certain of obedience he cupped her chin in his hand and laughed softly in to her startled face. "I refuse to believe anyone with a name like Nut-brown could possibly have a Past!" he mocked. A tide of colour flowed into her cheeks when he used the hated name, but she made no further effort to

  free herself from his embrace, although concious of his touch to a degree that left her gasping, she owed it to him not to betray their intimacy as play-acting performed solely for the benefit of their guest.

  "I disagree," Catryn drawled, jealous of the inference of innocence. "We have a saying in my country: 'Still waters run deep' and you must admit, senor, that until now your wife has not moved in circles in which she would be likely to be tempted. So beware! Some day you might find yourself with a rebel on your hands!"

  This amused him greatly, in fact everything about Catryn seemed either to amuse or intrigue him, and Hazel felt burning humiliation when with a shrug he released her to turn all his attention upon Catryn.

  All during dinner she retained that interest, drawing forth not only conversation but also quick involuntary smiles from a mouth relaxed in humour. Hazel was relieved when Francisco left her alone with Tio Garcia while he and Catryn took a stroll in the gardens. "Hm, just as well some parts of the grounds are floodlit," Tio Garcia opined dryly, annoyed with his nephew and condemning himself for issuing the invitation he was now bitterly regretting. "I wouldn't trust that young woman with any man under sixteen or over sixty!"

  "Tio!" Hazel was shocked. "You sound jealous ..." She gurgled at the thought, amused by his chagrin, and he smiled back sheepishly.

  "Perhaps I was rather smitten at first," he admitted, "silly old fool that I am! But no longer, cara, I assure you. Under that lovely icing lies more icing - the freezing kind. She lacks your warm sincerity and gentle heart."

  Lashes swept down over eyes suddenly wet. Tio Garcia was being very gallant, but his flattery did nothing to bolster her confidence, especially now Cat-ryn was here to spill her beauty into every corner of the Casa. Nervously, Hazel twisted the Ring of Chastity around her finger; it looked out of place on her small brown hand, the large flawless pearl dull as if sad to have been abandoned by its previous owners. Again tears threatened, but were not allowed to fall. Francisco had not sought any exceptional qualities in his bride, rather the reverse. Their marriage had been prompted by his guilt, by a desire to appease a troubled conscience, so what better bride could he have chosen than a spiritless nonentity whose presence hardly impinged upon his life, an undemanding mouse, to carry out with unquestioning obedience the job she had been chosen to do ? The most important ingredient of their peculiar relationship was her insignificance; it ensured he would never suffer the distraction of having to cope with temptations arising from the close proximity of an attractive bride.

  She heard Catryn's voice as she and Francisco approached the salon; it sounded high, its coaxing tone run through with a thread of excitement. "Please, Francisco, it would be such a feather in my cap! For years the tour operators have sought permission to take tourists around your factory - if I could be the one to obtain that concession it would mean certain advancement within my firm as well as a substantial rise in salary!"

  At the shock of hearing his name falling so naturally from Catryn's lips Hazel stiffened. Automatically, she

  sought his face when they entered the salon, expecting signs of displeasure, but his mouth was as indulgent as his words when he parried, "I won't have my workers disturbed by hordes of tourists."

  "But they needn't be disturbed!" she assured him. "Our parties are always very well behaved and the outings would be carefully organized so that only those with a real interest in the pearl industry would be invited! Please, Fransisco, won't you at least promise to consider my proposal before condemning it out of hand?"

  A surprising spear of jealousy caught Hazel unawares when he inclined his head. He was humouring Catryn in a way she would never have believed possible, a sure indication that in spite of his legendary distrust of English girls he was susceptible to the charms of some! Her feeling of rejection was not lost upon Tio Garcia, who determinedly projected her into the conversation. "Tomorrow, cara, if Francisco will permit, I will take you on a tour of the factory and showrooms. I promise you will find the trip interesting. You have heard of our products?"

  "I'm afraid not," she stammered, aware that her answer would condemn her, but unable to lie.

  "No?" Tio Garcia expelled a breath, and even Francisco's eyebrows rose.

  "But I imagined everyone knew of the island's famous pearl industry," Catryn mocked. "Unless examined by an expert, the gems are indistinguishable from real pearls, and even experts have been known to disagree about which were the genuine and which the manufactured article!"

  Remarks Hazel had heard passed referring to the family business became clearer, and the idea of a pearl-producing factory was so novel her interest was immediately aroused. Surprisingly it was Francisco who enlightened her further. Causing Catryn much displeasure, he deserted her to relax next to Hazel, then began lighting one of his favourite cheroots as he explained.

  "Throughout every generation pearls have held a powerful fascination for the men of my family. The gem is incorporated into the family escudo and is woven into the very tapestry of our lives - hence the superb collection amassed by our womenfolk." He flashed Hazel a delightful smile, taking her so much by surprise that for one fleeting moment she felt at one with the cosseted brides. Blood was pounding so hard in her ears she had to concentrate hard to catch his following words.

  "The first Marques began the experiments. To him, the pearl's rarity was a challenge and the irresistible attraction it held for women made him determined to create a man-made pearl with a beauty equal to that of the most expensive gem, but at a price that would make it available to more than just a favoured few." He stopped to flick ash into a mother-of-pearl shell, unaware that his deeply modulated voice was hypnotizing at least two of
his audience. Hazel leant forward, eager for him to continue, her huge expectant eyes claiming from him the smile of a story-teller who knows he holds his listener in the palm of his hand. "Trials were conducted over many years, but disappointment

  after disappointment almost drove him to abandon the idea, because although some of the results were good, he would not be satisfied with less than perfection. He was an old man when finally his goal was reached and the resulting flawless, perfectly shaped pearl was the forerunner of many that were to give to the masses a pride of ownership and a source of pleasure known previously only to the very rich."

  His lean fingers closed around Hazel's small hand, holding it up to catch the light spraying down from the crystal chandeliers. "Only one manufactured pearl is contained within the Drach collection, but it is the most highly treasured of all. Here, in the Ring of Chastity, is set that first perfect pearl, the flawless gem conceived out of hope and man's refusal to despair even against unbelievable odds."

  Hazel drew in a startled breath; the thought that for weeks she had been carrying around on her finger the family's most treasured possession almost scared her to death. What if she had lost it ? The ring fitted loosely, many times she had had to clench her hand to prevent it from falling off! She snatched back her hand and buried it deep in her lap. Never again would she feel competent to wear it, the responsibility for its safety must be shifted as quickly as possible on to shoulders broad enough to maintain such a burden. Francisco's nostrils flared, sensing a slight in the speed with which she had withdrawn from his touch. Hazel's lips parted on the verge of an explanation, but it remained unvoiced when he relaxed in his seat with a disinterested shrug and began blowing smoke rings to relieve the boredom that had suddenly clamped down upon his features.

  Quickly Catryn seized the opportunity to renew her persuasion. Her silver gown seemed starred with tiny coloured sparkles when the light caught her movements and her hair was a smooth cap of gold framing the face of a slightly wicked-looking madonna as she appealed, "Will you at least consider my idea, Francisco ?"

  He raised his glass in a toast to eyes of vibrant blue, then drained it quickly before glancing obliquely in Hazel's direction and making his decision. "Very well, for the sake of my wife who holds your friendship so dear, I will allow your tourists access to my factory."

  "Oh, thank you...!"

  "For onceonly!" hecutin when Catryn jumped to her feet and ran towards him. She faltered. "Then, perhaps, he relented, "if the experiment is a success it may be repeated."

  "It will be a success, I promise you!" she cried, looking ready to throw her arms around his neck as he stood up to face her. But something in his proud eyes, in the arrogantly tilted mouth that was barely smiling, must have cautioned her to be circumspect - for the time being at least.

  The look of triumph she threw in Hazel's direction spoke volumes; she had been in the Casa only hours, yet long enough to sense that the Marques and his bride were far from being on the terms one might expect of a couple newly married. Shamed colour scorched Hazel's body as she caught the look. Catryn was as as astute as ever, and as vicious. Years ago, as the pampered child of well-to-do parents, she had resented Hazel having even a crumb from her table. Friends of hers had been forbidden to associate with Hazel;

  favourite teachers had been fed with tittle-tattle until subconsciously there had arisen a hardening of attitudes towards the girl Catryn had determined to make an outcast. It had puzzled Hazel then, as it did now, why anyone with so much should even bother to hate one so much less fortunate. A lump of dread rose in her throat as she recognized the threat behind Catryn's triumph. Once more she was preparing to plunder! She told herself it did hot matter if she lost what little regard Francisco offered, but to lose the love of Tio Garcia and Carmen would be altogether too much to bear.

  She stood up so quickly that the glass she was holding overturned, spilling wine in a deep red stain down the front of her skirt. Her hand flew to her throat as, horrified, she watched it spread slowly, like poison into the mind, each ruined thread an omen of disaster yet to come. Francisco stepped towards her, but she backed away, the horror in her face so visible he drew in a sharp breath and remained still, his hand holding a proffered handkerchief dropping slowly to his side. A warning stabbed through her jangled nerves, clamouring to be heeded, a warning that she was playing straight into Catryn's hands, but the message came too late. With a strangled cry of despair she ran to seek the sanctuary of her room.

  With shaking hands she tore off the dress which now symbolized the extent of Catryn's power, then she flung herself upon the bed to allow despairing sobs to rack her slim body. Her misery was so all-consuming that she failed to hear a tap upon her door, and a surprisingly concerned voice was her first intimation

  that she was no longer alone.

  "It was a pretty dress but not, I'm sure, irreplaceable," Francisco observed dryly.

  Hazel twisted around, tears momentarily stemmed by shock, then blinked rapidly to dispel the veil of moisture through which he appeared alien and to her mind somewhat amused, bending across her bed. She scrambled up, not quite managing to suppress a last choking sob, and pulled the ivory bedcover over her bare young shoulders. His expression did not alter, but his obvious surprise that she should think such action necessary caused yet another revealing blush to betray her humiliation.

  "As I have already said," he continued calmly, ignoring her discomfiture and directing a glance towards the discarded dress, "I did promise to extend your wardrobe, so the loss of one dress should not cause you such heartache. It shall be replaced as soon as possible."

  Fury erupted when he disparaged the dress which, for all its cheapness, had been provided by someone dearly loved.

  "As part of my salary, I suppose!" she flashed. "Conscience payment to appease any humiliation brought about by your attentions to other women!" She was utterly appalled when the words jerked from her lips, sounding like the accusation of a jealous wife, and trembling seized her when his nostrils dilated in a dragon's flare - the Drach temper was stirring! He stood erect, eyes flashing fire against features stamped with disdain, and though his lips barely moved his words penetrated her brain with stabs of fire.

  "You are forgetting that your position in this house-hold is purely that of an employee - a favoured, some-what exceptional one, I admit, but nevertheless your status is and will always remain that of a servant!"

  A blow would have hurt less; physical violence could never have inflicted the cruelty of a heart being squeezed lifeless. Hazel gasped at the pain of it, then, unbearably provoked, she dared to scoff, "That is something I am never likely to forget! But may I remind you, senor, that even servants have certain privileges, and I do not recall inviting you to share the privacy of my bedroom...!"

  CHAPTER. V

  The visit to the pearl factory was an unforgettable experience, marred only by an atmosphere - pleasing to Catryn, puzzling to Tio Garcia, unnoticed by Car-men - that hung in a cloud above their heads. Hazel, sheltered between Carmen and Tio Garcia, did not have to pretend an interest in the various stages of manufacture, but her rapt attention to detail helped to exclude many of the icy glints that told her she was far from being forgiven for offending the dignity of the Marques.

  Francisco drove into the small town that had sprung up around the factory to accommodate its workers, then parked in front of a modern, two-storey building very much at odds with the surrounding white-washed green-shuttered houses. Catryn hastened to his side, claiming his complete attention, leaving Tio Garcia to explain the various stages of production to his two companions. "First of all," he pointed out two engros-sed young girls dressed in bright nylon overalls, "round glass beads are formed. See how the milky spheres are being dropped from hot rods of glass, and how perfectly they are matched in size ? This unison of size and shape is dependent entirely upon the skill of the worker whose expert eye is her only guide."

  "Please, may I try, Tio Garcia?" Hazel had t
o grab Carmen to restrain her enthusiasm, and she apologized to the girls for disturbing their concentration.

  "We are honoured by your presence, marquesa" one girl answered shyly, her soft dark eyes following curiously the process of Carmen and Francisco, now well ahead. Hazel pinned on an answering smile, squirming in-wardly at the thought of being the main subject of conversation around the dinner tables of the workers that evening: "Pobre rosa lnglesa!" they would be saying, "already she has lost the interest of her grande consorte!"

  Her cheeks were still stinging when they passed on to where the polished glass beads were being coated several times with essences extracted from marine creatures plucked from the warm Mediterranean waters. After much dipping, powdering and polishing the jealously guarded secret processes resulted in tray upon tray of pearls, all perfectly reproducing the iridescence, beauty and perfection of the finest of natural gems. She was fascinated by the whole pro-cedure and delighted also by the friendliness of the workers, so much so that she lagged behind many times attempting to exchange a few words of elementary Spanish.

  "She has the espanolismo, has she not, Francisco?" Tio Garcia grinned as she hastened to rejoin the waiting group.

  "I too find Spanish people very easy to understand," Catryn clipped, flashing jealously, "but whereas I prefer the stimulas of educated minds Hazel is more at home with the masses." The opinion was expressed loudly enough for Hazel to hear, and happiness was wiped from her face, the sudden withdrawal leaving it pinched and bewildered.