Her nerves contracted. Were her ravaged feelings displayed for all to see? Had the painful emotional surgery she had suffered contrived to bring about what no amount of wishing could do ? She knew she had changed, but was not sure fully to what extent; last night a simplehearted, uncomplicated girl had wandered into a dragon's lair and emerged a woman - less simple, more knowledgeable, and struggling to cope with a newly created shell of bitterness. Confused emotions were warring for supremacy; even while
trying to clinically assess her position unexpected waves of longing were surprising her young body.
Her emotions had undergone a drastic change. Francisco had tried to demonstrate dominance over her body and will, but her refusal to submit had aroused a monster that had turned to rend clawmarks of agony upon her heart. Unmercifully, he had ripped from her eyes the veil of innocence, and not even the torrent of tears she had shed could wash away the humiliation of his scornful rejection. A child, he had called her . . . was always calling her .. . but no more! His actions had destroyed the foolish child whose adoration and desire to serve had demonstrated her infatuation. With his help she had weathered the painful process of growing up, and now she felt free, free of his dominance, free of her fear of him, and best of all free of the fascination that had made her a slave to the whims of an unfeeling monster!
"I'd like to go with you to the caves, Robin," she decided coolly. "Will today be convenient?"
Robin's glance sharpened, wondering at the absence of the diffidence she usually displayed in her husband's presence. "My God, you have changed!" he breathed, before taking up the challenge. "I'll be delighted to have your company any time, Hazel, you know that."
"Can I go too?" Carmen was already sliding from her chair, sure of her answer, but Hazel stopped her.
"No, dear, I'm feeling rather tired, but as your uncle is so insistent I should rest, I feel sure he won't mind amusing you for the rest of today while I enjoy a leisurely tour of the caves." Catryn's open-mouthed astonishment was comical and even Carmen's re-
proaches died a silent death at the enormity of the suggestion, but Hazel met Francisco's arrogantly upswept head without concern. He allowed the silence to stretch to breaking point, pinning her in his sights as if determined to break her apathy by sheer force of will, but when her expression did not alter he conceded narrowly:
"Very well, a few more swimming lessons will not come amiss. Perhaps, Catryn, as my wife is to be otherwise occupied, you would like to join us?" Catryn accepted with uncertain pleasure, not caring for the way in which events were shaping. It had suited her well to see Hazel cowering in the shadow of a dictatorial husband, but her abrupt volte-face had affected him curiously. Although quick to recover, his first reaction had been one of amazement - the amazement of a master whose dog had suddenly turned and bitten him!
Hazel stood up, completely in command, and informed Robin as she pushed back her chair, "I'll fetch my wrap. Meet me outside when you're ready."
They drove almost in silence through typical Majorcan farmland, along a road bordered on both sides by almond trees in full blossom. Gradually the pink and white perfumed petals gave way to thick-topped fig trees and as they drove through a village on a hill, they passed an old restored mill, with vanes and sunshades, serving as a bar and resting place. They swooped down the hill towards a small harbour full of small boats nestling within the shelter of cliffs. On one side was a sprawling white-walled residence which might have housed a noble family but which was in reality the very exclusive residents' yacht club, and on
the other a small picturesque settlement of houses and shops perched either side of narrow streets rising steeply from the harbour. Hazel would have liked to linger there, but he drove straight on. "We'll stop on the way back for lunch at the yacht club," he promised, reading her look of disappointment. "Few tourists find this place - too far off the beaten track - but the organized parties allowed by Francisco are brought to the caves in coaches at the same time and on the same days each week. Unfortunately, today is one of those days, that's why I don't want to linger. Your first visit to the caves will be one you'll remember always, and if there's just the two of us present you'll savour the first glorious impact to the full."
"Thoughtful Robin!" She patted his hand, then withdrew into solitary thought. Her over-strained emotions could not cope with casual conversation, but happily he understood and did not intrude further, so that it was in quite a happy frame of mind that she stepped out of the car on to a bare piece of ground and looked around for some sign to guide her.
"This way." He took her arm and led her towards a path cutting through grassy banks. At first the ground ran level, then gradually it began to slope until the banks were far overhead and the path in front dipped into a tomb of darkness. "Take it slowly," he advised, his grasp tightening as she stumbled. "There's a switch inside the caves - somewhere around here, I think." He grunted satisfaction when his groping hand found a lever, then after a click their path was illuminated by lights cunningly concealed behind formations of glistening, golden-coloured rock. "Francisco em-
ployed experts to do the lighting. I think it has paid off, don't you?"
Robin smiled when she did not answer, remembering his own first excursion into the world of hidden beauty. Hazel was gazing upwards, reverently, as befitted the majestic atmosphere inside nature's own private cathedral. Thrusting downward from the high domed roof were immense stalactites, mighty spears of golden stone dripping water the colour of honey into pools secretly illuminated a clear, crystal blue. Upwards from the pools, their tips seemingly striving to pierce the surface were matching stalagmites grouped closely together to resemble giants of oak and cedar, a breathtaking underwater forest of stone undisturbed for centuries except for drips of water sliding tears of loneliness down the massive columns, carving beauty out of stone on their descent towards the pool.
The path wound erratically, first right, then left, disclosing around each crooked corner further masterpieces fashioned by nature out of stone and water; inanimate animal figures; religious images - the cowl-shrouded figure of a monk with head bent in silent prayer - the brass pipes of an organ; even a bunch of orange-red carrots to scoff dubious minds too attuned to reality to accept as genuine nature's impish flights of fancy. "See how the lights accentuate the colour of the stone?" Robin pointed, directing her eyes upwards towards a flag of many colours, striped orange and yellow with a fringe of deep red, unfurled against a background of wax white. "And there!" he pointed again. "Sheets hung out to dry!" He projected excited admiration of the men whose labours had resulted in
the exact spotlighting of shapes to render them even more visible, the precise pointing of light that helped stalactites assume perfect form; the tracing with light the course of meandering streams; and the probing of deep pools unwilling to voluntarily reveal their secrets.
"It's unbelievable!" she whispered, catching a breath as the cavern widened into a second wider cave shelved with stone seats to resemble an amphitheatre, its stage a wide sweep of blue lagoon upon which floated a solitary canoe bearing the hunched-up figure of a man.
"Sit here a moment," Robin smiled. "He's an entertainer laid on especially for the benefit of the tourists, but if I explain who you are I'm sure he'll be delighted to give you a solo performance."
Hazel did not know quite what to expect when she sat down to wait, but she did not mind lingering in such surroundings. Craning her neck upwards, she followed the outline of colossal columns, then shivered, wondering how such. a world of frozen objects would react upon the nerves of a solitary wanderer. The Cuevas del Drach, when glowing with light, were palaces of enchantment, but there were crevices deep and dark where a monster might lurk waiting, in the manner of its namesake, for darkness to act as cover for his crimes...!
She did not realize how tense she had become until the strains of a violin began straying across the water. When Robin rejoined her she relaxed upon the stone bench and watched the violinist d
rifting in his boat across the blue lake, coaxing soft, beautiful music from the strings of his violin. Robin's arm was supporting her waist and when he pulled her closer her weary
head drooped against his shoulder.
"Something tells me you've had it tough, honey," he growled.
"Shush! Don't spoil it by talking," Hazel admonished dreamily. For a further few minutes they listened while music breathed life into an Eden of stone, then the boat drifted out of sight until all that remained was a faint echo of magic.
"Gee," Robin sighed, "I wish Jenny could have heard that! Music needs to be shared with a compatible soul to be fully appreciated and, like you, she becomes lost to the world when the music, the atmosphere, and the company in which she finds herself all hit exactly the right note."
"Jenny ?" she queried, still haunted by the wonderful sound.
"My girl," he admitted sheepishly. "We're getting married when I get back home."
Shaking herself free of lingering nostalgia, but still a little enchanted, she smiled, "How wonderful! I'm so pleased for you, Robin - it must be heavenly to be so much in love."
"Don't you know?" he questioned sharply, suspicions aroused.
He sensed her recoil from the question, but her voice was cool as rain when she reminded him lightly, "But of course, I married Francisco, didn't I?"
Conscious of her resentment of his unthinking probing, he released her, but then, impelled by her obvious unhappiness, he offered, "If ever you should need anyone, let me know, Hazel! Promise . . . ?"
She stood up, dismissing emotion with a shrug. "I'm
not a child, I'll carve out my own destiny, thank you." She laughed coolly, astonishing him with her newly-discovered wisdom, feeling suddenly confident within the protective shell that had been tailored to her individual requirements by a man whose indifference cut like a blade. Robin recognized heartbreak behind the glint of reckless defiance; something or someone had hurt her so deeply she was physically numbed and he felt compassion and a desire to be at hand to help her overcome the agony in store when time began reviving the nerve-ends of severed emotions ...
"Let's go for lunch!" he decided, startling her with the abrupt decision.
"Lovely!" Her smile was as forced as her reply, but he pretended not to notice and began leading the way, guiding her footsteps along a crumbling path edged with boulders until a small ring of daylight appeared ahead. Once above ground sunlight exploded into eyes become accustomed to dimness and they blinked rapidly until they were able to focus normally. Harvest flies buzzed lazily in the heat, the sky was a blue sea devoid of movement except for a brassy ball of sun slowly traversing its surface. "I'd love a swim before lunch," she confessed, wishing she had had the foresight to bring along a costume.
"Plenty of shops down by the harbour," Robin offered, reading the problem correctly. "And what's more, an acquaintance of mine has offered me the loan of his yacht, so what say we take up his offer and go for a sail ? We could buy a couple of costumes and swim later when lunch has had time to be digested." To skim across the hot sea with white sails grabbing every
available puff of wind seemed to her a heavenly idea, so she nodded enthusiastic support. "Right!" He threw back his lion's mane of hair and laughed, displaying a throat of bronze rising from the open collar of his white shirt. "We'll play hookey, and to hell with the consequences!"
Lunch at the yacht club was made all the more enjoyable by the atmosphere of stolen pleasure affected by their decision to play truant. Robin should have worked at least part of the day, and Hazel felt blithely unconcerned at the thought of Francisco's reaction to her prolonged absence. They ate lechoncillo, roast sucking pig, which she thought was delicious until she caught sight of the pathetic little corpse lying on a huge platter. Robin teased her unmercifully about her scruples, but ordered a paella cooked with a variety of seafood, chicken and vegetables and served on a bed of saffron rice, which she found so enjoyably filling she could manage nothing afterwards except coffee. For an hour they lazed on the shaded terrace, then reluctantly they abandoned their leisure to go in search of costumes and towels. These were purchased with the minimum of effort from a shop on the quayside, together with a yachting cap for her and one for Robin with a nautical badge and peak, which she insisted upon buying. "As a thank-you for a wonderful day," she pleaded when he waved her money away. "Please, Robin, - you're the only one for whom I feel able to buy a present - even Carmen's toys are the most expensive money can buy."
The simple explanation touched him on the raw; it said so much, yet left so much unsaid. "Sweet, adorable Nut-brown," he said gruffly, his merry eyes moment-
arily grave. "Very well, I accept with pleasure, bat only on condition that you let me buy you a memento in return?"
She hesitated. Robin never seemed short of money and he was generous to a fault, but a costly gift would be sure to arouse comment at the Casa. However, she could hardly refuse without causing offence. "I'd love a fan." She seized a cheap paper one hanging from a string outside the doorway of the shop. He took it and replaced it without a second look.
"And a fan you shall have," he promised, a glint in his eye promising argument if she should protest, "but one of my choice, if you don't mind - I'm very particular about the presents I give to my girl-friends."
Her heart sank, but knowing protest would be useless, she allowed him to lead her up one of the narrow shop lined streets until they came to a jewellers, its windows crammed to capacity with costly chess sets of ivory, watches set with diamonds, gold bracelets, pendants and rings set with every available choice of stone. It was a surprise to find such a shop in a tiny harbour town, but Robin's greeting to the proprietor dispelled some of her curiosity.
"Buenos dias, senor - your establishment has been recommended to me by some friends back in the States. They reckon you trade almost exclusively with American tourists who, as is well known, don't quibble about paying out a few extra bucks if they know they're getting a genuine bargain."
"That is correct, senor," the dignified Spaniard responded to Robin's cheery grin. "German and American tourists form the majority of our customers.
He shrugged apologetically, guessing Hazel's nationality. "However, senor, you can be happy with the thought that whatever goods you acquire will cost you far less than they would in your own country."
"Does that salve your conscience, honey?" he quirked a sandy eyebrow, amused by her wide-eyed diffidence. "Whatever we buy will be cheap at the price, so forget about scruples and choose whatever you fancy." But she had eyes only for a showcase of beautiful fans spread out behind glass upon a background of crimson velvet. The artistry and workmanship put into the fashioning of the dainty pieces was breathtaking-some were made of black lace intricately woven into a variety of patterns, some had diamond-studded spokes and others were painted with flowers or views of local scenery. To choose was an impossible task, but Robin had no hesitation in pointing out his preference. "What about this one?" he indicated. "It's you somehow - pale, slender, and delicately lovely."
"No!" Hazel stepped back, surprising him with her vehemence. "Not pearls, and not ivory - if you don't mind, I'll have the little green one with the painted flowers."
When the proprietor turned a gasp into a cough Robin's eyebrows rose, but he instructed calmly, "You heard the lady, senor, the little green one it is."
They left with the proprietor's good wishes ringing in their ears, Hazel clutching the fan to her breast, hardly able to wait until she could examine it more closely and to gloat over its beauty. It was the most exciting present she had ever received - her first from a man, if one excluded Francisco's presents, which
were more in the nature of heirlooms on loan - and already she loved it. Cost did not matter, she treasured the trinket more for the kindness of its donor than for its negligible monetary value.
Afterwards, the sail came as an anticlimax, a wonderful experience and an enjoyable one, but soon to become just a hazy memory. Little p
ersuasion was needed by Robin to coax her into joining him for dinner, then later, on the terrace of his hotel, they danced to records and shared drinks and small talk with the other residents. It was well past midnight when he deposited her at the door of the Casa. Only one light was burning, the one in Francisco's study, so Robin made no protest when she urged him on his way.
"Thank you for a glorious day." She leant across the door of his open-top tourer, digging the toes of her slippers into the gravel of the drive, and smiled at him as he leant forward on the steering wheel.
He smiled wryly, thinking how rarely his dates ended in platonic goodbyes.
"I enjoyed it too, honey, but run along now before I forget both my girl-friend and the husband you have hovering somewhere in the background!" Her startled look made him regret his thoughtless attempt to amuse - her shell of confidence was deceiving, underneath she was still the same timid creature whose wide-eyed belief in her husband's ability to control the elements had wrung his heart. A half-smile of uncertainty lifted the corner of her mouth, then to his delight she bent to feather a kiss upon his cheek before spinning round to run hastily up the steps and into the
Casa. She raced up the stairs without a glance towards the door behind which she knew Francisco was waiting and did not stop until she gained the safety of her room where, once inside, she turned the key in the lock of her bedroom door - and also the one adjoining.
CHAPTER XI
Next day Hazel remained in her room until she was sure Francisco had left for the factory. Shutting her ears to the sound of Carmen's piping voice demanding admittance, she remained silent until, thinking she was still asleep, the child moved away. Her disconsolate footsteps retreating down the passageway gave Hazel a few bad moments, but she promised herself that once Francisco's car had headed down the drive she would seek Carmen out and make it up to her by allowing her to follow any pursuit she wished for the rest of the day. It was a cowardly action, the confrontation would have to be faced some time, but a few hours' respite from his scathing questions was a prospect soothing to her uneasy conscience.
Island Of Pearls Page 10
