The Bahamian Pirate

by Jane Corrie

  'If only,' sighed Mrs Tonetti, 'Lisa had been more like you!'

  Serena held her breath and felt her pulse quicken. Now it was out! How much did Mrs Tonetti know? Had she guessed the truth? She met her sad eyes half-warily, desperately trying to keep the anxiety out of her own.

  'I'm afraid I lied to you, dear,' Mrs Tonetti said quietly. 'You've been so sweet and understanding.' She twitched her finely woven shawl closer to her as if she felt the cold, yet it was a warm morning. Straightening her back, she gave Serena a pleading look. 'I want to tell you about her,' she said firmly, 'and ask you to forgive me—although,' she said softly, 'I'm sure you'll know I didn't really mean to deceive you.' She hesitated. 'It's only that if you'd known Lisa really did exist, you wouldn't have agreed to help me. You wouldn't have understood, you see, that there's no likelihood of her ever coming back.'

  A stab of apprehension flowed through Serena; she was now certain Mrs Tonetti knew the whole miserable story. 'Please,' she said quickly, 'it doesn't matter, you know. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's very personal, and,' she added a little desperately, 'I am enjoying myself. I wanted an excuse to stay here, remember? and honestly I'm very grateful to you.'

  Mrs Tonetti continued to gaze at her with those sad eyes of hers and with a sinking heart Serena knew she had failed to divert her from the subject.

  The old lady patted Serena's arm and smiled. 'And I want you to go on enjoying yourself,' she said gently. 'However, I want to tell you about Lisa— you see, there hasn't been anyone I could talk to about her. It isn't easy, you know, explaining why your only grandchild doesn't come to see you.'

  She was silent for a moment or so and her gaze left Serena and centred on the panoramic view before them, but Serena knew she was not seeing the view. Miserably she knew that short of a sudden earthquake, there was nothing she could do to prevent Mrs Tonetti reliving the unhappy past.

  'I'd better go back to the start,' Mrs Tonetti began wearily. 'That way you'll understand how things were. Antonio and I had only one child, a son.' She broke off again as if assembling her thoughts and Serena longed to interrupt and tell her it didn't matter, she didn't want to know, but she couldn't; it would only upset Mrs Tonetti and might make things worse.

  'I'm afraid Antonio and Michele hadn't a lot in common,' she continued sadly. 'In a way, I don't suppose I helped matters by spoiling Michele. I used to think Antonio was too hard on the boy and I tried to make up for it,' she sighed. 'Antonio always intended that Michele should follow him in the family business.' He was an accountant, you know, and a very successful one, only ——-' she hesitated, 'he made a bad investment just before we retired, and things weren't easy.'

  Inwardly Serena breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't going to hear about Lisa's treachery. It looked as if Jordan Kerr had been right and she did not know the true facts.

  'But this, of course, was a long time afterwards,' went on Mrs Tonetti, sounding impatient with herself for her slight deviation. 'As I said, Michele and his father were always at loggerheads, and after one particularly sharp disagreement Michele slammed out of the house.' There was another tiny silence, then Mrs Tonetti swallowed quickly and continued, 'We didn't hear from him until three years later. He told us he was married and wanted to patch things up; I was delighted, of course; I even had hopes of him agreeing to settle down and take his exams. He was only twenty-one, you know, and had passed his prelims before the flare-up with his father.'

  She fingered her shawl agitatedly and Serena wished she could hurry her through this painful period of her life.

  'But it didn't work out,' she said quietly. 'He did come back and he brought his wife with him. It didn't help matters when we found the girl was well advanced in pregnancy.' She smiled apologetically at Serena. 'I do apologise, dear, but you must see how things were, or you wouldn't understand—you see, Antonio had a strict upbringing—good Italian families have, you know, and it was quite obvious that Michele had had to marry the girl.' Her hand twitched her shawl again. 'I don't think I'd ever seen Antonio so furious.' She sighed. 'Even then, I do believe things would have worked out if Michele had really wanted to settle down and join his father in the firm—or at least, have had a try at it—but all he wanted was money; and I must confess neither Antonio or I cared much for the girl he had married. It soon became very obvious that they were not in love and the girl had married him in the expectation of a wealthy future. At that time, you see, we were quite well off.

  'So we come to Lisa.' She looked at Serena. 'It's hard to believe that two girls could look so alike, yet be so very different—you're all I wanted her to be.' She nodded gently. 'You are like her in looks, Serena. I did tell the truth when I told you that, apart from your eyes. Lisa's were dark blue, not that lovely violet colour of yours.' She sighed. 'And she was harder than you are, even when she was seventeen I saw that. That was how old she was when we first saw her, you know. She just turned up and told us who she was. We didn't even know whether Michele's child had been a boy or girl, for after Antonio had given him the money he wanted, he told him there wouldn't be any more payments like that. Either he came back and joined the firm, or got himself a steady job of some kind—whichever it was, he'd have to earn the next amount.' The hand clutching the shawl tightened, showing the almost transparent veins on her thin hands. 'We never heard from him again,' she swallowed. 'Lisa told us her father had died when she was fifteen.' Her voice had a weary bitterness in it. 'Her mother apparently, didn't bother to inform us.'

  Serena interrupted quickly, hoping to get Mrs Tonetti's thoughts away from that memory. 'And Lisa's mother?' she asked.

  Mrs Tonetti nodded. 'That's why Lisa came to find us. Her mother had told her that if anything happened to her, she was to come to us.' Her eyes moistened. 'I. really thought that at last,' she closed her eyes. 'We did everything to make her happy, spoilt her shamelessly—you see, in our way we tried to make up for the past. There were faults on both sides, and there had been too much bitterness.' Her smile was bitter-sweet. 'Antonio spoilt her even more than I did,' her voice faltered. 'But it didn't work. I'm afraid she became infatuated with a married man.' She made a small moue of distaste. 'Not a very nice man, either.'

  Again there was a small silence and Serena hoped she had come to the end of her narrative, but there was more.

  'Everything seemed to happen at once,' Mrs Tonetti sighed. 'Lisa running away with this man, then the bad news about our finances. Antonio wasn't a young man, and he ought to have retired a year before, but there was no one to carry on the firm, you see, and he was reluctant to sell the practice. He never really got over it, it wasn't only the financial worry. I think he blamed himself for not keeping a stricter eye on Lisa's activities; he'd grown extremely fond of her during that year she was with us.'

  Knowing the real cause of Mr Tonetti's unhappiness, Serena wondered how anyone could be callous enough to do what Lisa Tonetti had done.

  The thin tired voice went on, 'I tried to find her, you know, after Antonio's death. I advertised for months, not only in Italy, but in England too. All to no avail; in the end I was forced to come to the conclusion that we meant nothing to her. It's been five years, and I've not even had a postcard from her. If it hadn't been for a friend of ours who actually saw her in London three years ago, I might have won- dered whether she'd met with some accident.'

  'Perhaps——' began Serena gently, meaning to point out that she had been mistaken for Lisa herself and that it hadn't been Lisa but someone else.

  Mrs Tonetti forestalled her with a sad smile. 'Oh, yes, dear, it was Lisa. Mrs Carstairs saw her quite plainly and actually called out to her, she was only across the street from her. She told me Lisa had looked up quickly to see who was calling her and then deliberately walked away in the opposite direction.'

  Serena was effectively silenced until another thought struck her. Surely, if Lisa Tonetti were as avaricious as Jordan Kerr had intimated, wouldn't she have tried to make a comeback when the money ran out? She didn
't know how much was involved, a goodly amount if she had managed to survive for five years on it, she thought dryly, then she remembered something else. Jordan Kerr had said she had left Beroni as soon as they reached England. That meant whatever amount was involved would have to be split two ways. He had also said something about following her trail from the good class hotels to the not so good boarding houses, so unless Lisa was reserving her resources, it didn't make sense. She frowned, then asked suddenly, 'Does Lisa know where you are now, do you think?'

  Again she received that sad smile from Mrs Tonetti. 'Yes, dear,' she said gently. 'It was often discussed that we would come here for our retirement years. We used to spend our vacations here every year, but when Lisa was with us we decided to go to Paris instead, she was so keen to go there, and there isn't really much in the way of entertainment for young people here, you know. Jordan doesn't cater for tourism, he doesn't encourage it nor discourage it, but if they come here in the hopes of "living it up" then I'm afraid they're soon disappointed. There are no gambling casinos here, or cinemas. The only concession Jordan's made in that line is in nightclubs, and really they're more in the nature of a late-night restaurant, no floor shows, as it were.'

  Her question answered, Serena saw a chance to steer the conversation away from the unhappy past to the present, and she quickly asked about the Centenary. 'It's more than a hundred years, of course, isn't it?' she queried. 'Since the landing, I mean.'

  To her relief, her tactics worked. Mrs Tonetti frowned in concentration for a moment. 'I think it's the fourth, dear. I believe it took place in the sixteenth century.' She glanced at her wrist watch. 'Good gracious, is that the time? Thank goodness you reminded me. We must get ready at once. Jordan's sending a car to collect us and it will be here in fifteen minutes.'

  Before she entered her bedroom, Mrs Tonetti reminded Serena to take a hat of some kind. 'It gets quite hot, and we shall be standing about on the beach for quite a while.'

  CHAPTER SIX

  Serena changed into a turquoise linen trouser suit with a sleeveless tunic and lime green organdie long- sleeved blouse, that would let whatever breeze there was to be had filter through to her.

  Her one and only hat was a wide-brimmed white straw she had bought specifically for the cruise. Unlike her mother, Serena did not care for hats and only wore them under protest, but she knew from past experience that unless she could produce one she would be prevailed upon to wear one of her mother's. To Mrs Belmont, hats were a vital part of her ensemble, and Serena had once heard her declare that she felt undressed without one! Of course, there were hats, and hats; her mother's always seemed to consist of a concoction of frippery dreamed up by a designer with surrealistic tendencies!

  As she placed the hat on her head, Serena's thoughts went from her mother to Roger and his reaction to the news that she would not be joining them for the cruise. Meeting her reflection in the mirror she paled; he would be simply furious! Serena had an idea of what he had planned for the culmination of the cruise—an engagement ring on her finger! She was also sure he had already bought the ring, ready to slip it on her third finger when he had worn her down.

  Her even white teeth caught her bottom lip; she couldn't see Roger leaving it at that. He would come, she knew he would. It wouldn't be too difficult for him to find out where she was staying. In her mind's eye she saw him arriving at the chalet demanding to know the reason why she had cancelled the cruise. She sighed; even the enterprising Mrs Tonetti would be hard put to it to think up a plausible excuse at such short notice. Of course, thought Serena, she could warn her, but that wouldn't get them anywhere either. She could hardly see him condoning her well-meaning, but as it had turned out, foolish duplicity. Neither could Serena see him agreeing to respect the confidential news about Mrs Tonetti's state of health, particularly when he heard about Jordan Kerr!

  Depression settled on her like a cloud; the meeting between Roger and Jordan Kerr which she had envisaged with so much pleasure the previous evening now loomed on the horizon as Mrs Tonetti's death knell—Serena shivered. There was nothing for it but for her to leave on Saturday. Somehow she must make Jordan Kerr see that. If he really wanted to protect Mrs Tonetti he had to be made to see it.

  The car drew up just as Serena joined Mrs Tonetti in the lounge. Mrs Tonetti had also changed and wore a heavy silk navy blue suit with matching straw hat. Smiling at Serena, she commented, 'You're going to enjoy this, Serena. Now come along, or we'll miss the landing.'

  Following her out of the chalet, Serena thought it all depended on whether she could make a certain individual see sense; if not, Mrs Tonetti's confident prediction would go sadly astray.

  She was jerked out of her miserable musings by the awesome sight of a piratical-looking character waiting to convey them to the beach.

  Mrs Tonetti chuckled and asked, 'It is you, Jake, isn't it? I suppose if you're taking part in the landing we ought not to keep you waiting.'

  Jake grinned and opened the car doors for them. 'Plenty of time, Mrs Tonetti,' he assured her as he seated her in the front seat, then assisted Serena into the back.

  Having only seen Jake in the half-light the previous evening, Serena was now able to take in his features. As she had guessed, he was Polynesian, with the warm honey-coloured skin of that race. Her eyes travelled from his smiling face to his apparel, firstly to the bandanna tied tightly round his forehead giving him a slightly villainish look, then moving on to his clothes. His open-throated white blouse-like shirt had full sleeves, and his black breeches were adorned with a brass studded belt. Black plimsoll-type shoes completed the outfit. With a slight start, Serena realised she was looking at what must be an almost identical copy of the clothes worn by the seafarers of old, and her gaze centred on the studded belt with its ominous small hooks at each end to hold no doubt the swinging cutlass and lethal dagger. In spite of the heat, she shivered. It was beyond her comprehension that those times should be recalled, let alone celebrated!

  It was only a short ride to the beach and when they arrived, instead of following the track down to the beach itself, Jake swung the car on to the slightly elevated ground running parallel to the beach track. For a second, Serena wondered why as they seemed to be heading away from the main sightseeing area, then as they rounded a bend and joined several other cars pulled up a little in front of them, she saw the reason for the diverted course. The whole sweep of the beautiful bay was before them. Not very far below them lay the beach, now crowded to capacity with what Serena presumed to be the entire population of the island, but on catching sight of several people sporting expensive-looking cameras making their way determinedly to the front of the crowd, she amended that last thought to include tourists.

  Alighting from the car, they made their way towards a row of seating, and Serena, holding Mrs Tonetti's arm to make certain her step was firm on the uneven ground, saw with a start of dismay that among the occupants already seated were Mrs Simpson and Myrna. All her earlier fears crowded in on her; she ought to have known they would be present, but she had somehow imagined a crowd of people among which it would be possible to keep one's distance. Serena had a horrible feeling that nothing—but nothing—was going to go right for her, and she didn't know why she bothered. She might as well give in gracefully and accept whatever fate had been combining to throw at her.

  To take her mind off these disturbing thoughts she concentrated on the two figures in front that had prompted her near-hysterical line of reasoning. Myrna, she noticed, also wore a trouser suit; its well- cut navy blue jacket emphasized her slim shoulders. A small flap at the back of the collar with white piping gave it definite naval undertones and the pert navy blue boater that rested on her fair head completed the illusion. Serena's thoughts went back to the previous evening and her brief introduction to her after that nerve-shattering interview in Jordan Kerr's study when they had met her on the way out of the study. She had come to find out what was keeping him so long. Serena had been in no state for polite co
nversation—not, she thought, that Myrna would have welcomed it. The hand held out after the introduction had been as cold as the look in her light blue eyes.

  As they reached the seating Serena gave a thankful sigh that the seats on either side of the Simpsons had just been taken, and she prayed that Mrs Tonetti would choose the seats at the end of the line, thus forestalling any chance of further skirmishing on the two elderly ladies' part.

  As if Serena had willed it, Mrs Tonetti did choose the end seating, and after the greetings from the other residents and a cool nod from both the Simpsons, they settled down to watch the proceedings.

  Gazing out at the blue expanse of the bay, Serena sent up a little 'thank you' for this first obstacle cleared. Her eyes, resting on a small clump of palms that seemed to form a natural barrier of shelter for the small bay, softened for a moment. It was so beautiful; white foam gently lapped the shore and was almost soporific in its action, Serena felt she wanted nothing more than to be allowed to stay there forever, listening to the sea's eternal lullaby.

  Serena's moment of tranquillity was soon over as a sudden movement on her right caught her attention and she glanced across in time to see the tall form of Jordan Kerr effortlessly vault up the slight incline that separated them from the beach.

  As she watched him stride towards them she was thankful he had not elected to join the landing party; the very sight of him put her nerves on edge, and she hated to think what effect he would have had on her dressed in pirate's costume. After that first quick glance in his direction, Serena looked straight ahead of her and tried to concentrate on the view that had previously held her attention, but she could still see the man who had forced her into her present predicament. She knew exactly what he wore; the way the blue blazer sat on his wide shoulders and the blue shirt that was open at the neck, even to the dove grey tapered slacks.