by Jane Corrie
Her musings were cut short by a short gasp of consternation as she caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror. No wonder he had made her feel like a wilful child. She looked like one, and a very grubby one at that!
To think that she had once imagined that he loved her, she thought sadly as her eyes traced the long smear of dust across her forehead, and she shook her head at her reflection. Companionship, she told herself, was about all she would get, she would have no worry of anyone going off the deep end with her.
After a quick shower she changed into a halter dress that would give her the maximum amount of the sunshine that would stream into the kiosk and complete her tan, then went to find Mrs Welling.
`Very nice,' commented Mrs Welling, as she put a plate of ham salad in front of her, and gave her a smile. 'I didn't have that kind of help in my day.'
Thea had thought that she was referring to her dress, and her heart sank as she realised that she was referring to Marcus. She might have known that Mrs Welling would have kept a strict eye on her progress, ready to rush out and assist should the going get too hard for Thea. Any minute now she would be asking who he was; it would be a quite
natural question and purely out of interest and not inquisitiveness, yet Thea was loth to supply the answer, since it would invariably lead to other questions. 'Oh, I was lucky, wasn't I?' she managed to reply breezily. `So I cheated a bit, didn't I? I did get some training in, though,' she added with a bright smile. 'We'll see how we get on next week.'
`It was Marcus Conan, wasn't it?' Mrs Welling commented. 'A fine-looking man, too. I've seen plenty of photographs of him in the island magazine, he's quite well known. Fancy him stopping to help you out!'
This was said in an absentminded way, but Thea was not fooled. The old lady was consumed with curiosity, but for politeness' sake was determined not to show it. Thea sighed inwardly. So much for trying to lose herself in the island's quieter section, and the last place she thought Marcus would find her. 'It's not really so odd,' she said carefully. 'He does know me. My brother used to work for him — ' She stopped abruptly; surely she wouldn't have to go through all that miserable explanation again?
Mrs Welling gave her a look of sympathy. 'Pauline told me about that. I'm sorry, Thea. It must have been dreadful for you, coming all that way to join him, and for that to happen. Now finish your lunch,' she ordered kindly, 'I mustn't keep you talking or there'll be a queue outside the kiosk waiting for your arrival.'
Thea got on with her lunch and inwardly blessed Pauline for her thoughtfulness. It was obvious that she had kept the news of Thea's engagement to Marcus from her aunt, and Thea was grateful that it had been of such a short duration that it had not got
into the island's magazine.
The next few days passed peacefully enough for Thea, except for the appearance of a tall rangy-looking islander with ebony black skin and large ultra-white teeth which flashed in his dark shadowed features with amazing regularity whenever. Thea's puzzled eyes rested on him, and it wasn't until she tried to carry out a few empty returnable crates ready to take them back to the house for collection the following Wednesday, when the next delivery was due, that she realised why he was there, and no number of protests that she could manage the crates, they were empty after all, would serve to put him off his task. He just gave her a wide grin and carried on as if she hadn't spoken.
Sam Jacks, as she discovered his name was, was there the following day, and the day after that, and Thea began to feel crossly as if she was under house arrest. There was absolutely no reason why poor Sam should have to while his day away on the off-chance that there would be some carrying for him to do. It was absolutely ridiculous, she fumed, after putting up with it for three days. She would ring Marcus and order him to call off his watchdog. If he insisted on her not doing any carrying of the heavy cases, then he could get Sam to make an appearance on the day the deliveries were expected, and that was as far as she would allow him to help out! It wasn't going to be easy explaining Sam's presence to Mrs Welling, who was bound to worry about giving him some compensation for his work, and that would not do at all.
When Mrs. Welling was busy dusting the guests' bedrooms the following morning, Thea took the
opportunity of ringing Marcus and demanding that he find other work for his 'lad'. She ought to remember to thank him as well, she told herself while she waited for the call to be answered. She didn't want to sound ungrateful, but enough was enough!
To her vexation, Marcus wasn't available, and she had to leave a message with his secretary. Thea gave her name, and left a message to the effect that she wished to thank Mr Conan for his help, but the vacancy had now been filled, and he could release Mr Jacks from his duties.
That, she told herself as she put the telephone down, was that—and, she hoped, the end of any other interference from Marcus.
That evening, however, Thea was to learn that once Marcus's mind was set on a course no persuasion would alter it. Thea was also beginning to see the other side of the man she had nearly married, the side that Michael had seen and Pauline had mentioned. An implacable side of a man who was master of his ship and woe betide anyone who disputed this fact.
When Thea returned to the house after giving Sam a polite 'goodnight' and thinking that she would miss his cheerful company the next day, she found Mrs Welling waiting for her in the hall, and judging by the flustered expression on her face, Thea knew that she was concerned about something. 'You aren't thinking of leaving me, are you, Thea?' she asked almost as soon as Thea had closed the door behind her.
Thea's brows lifted in surprise at this unexpected question. 'Of course not,' she replied quickly. 'What makes you ask that?' she queried lightly.
`Well, there was a rather odd telephone message left for you,' Mrs Welling replied slowly. 'I couldn't understand it all, then I thought that perhaps you'd decided the work here didn't suit you and you'd applied elsewhere.'
Thea handed her the bag of takings from the kiosk, and gave her a smile. 'Now why should I do a thing like that?' she demanded. 'You'd better give me the message and we'll try to make some sense of it,' she added soothingly.
Mrs Welling looked relieved by Thea's assurance, then gave a groan of concentration. 'Well, it was from Pirates' Cove,' she said, 'that's that swanky place the other side of town, and they said that I was to thank you for your message and that it was receiving attention, and that they were sending you a list of vacancies,' she ended flatly, giving Thea a long searching look.
Thea's brows went even higher at this. 'Sending me a list of vacancies?' she repeated perplexedly. `How very odd! I wonder if they've got me mixed up with someone else,' she mused. 'I did ring and leave a message there for Mr Conan,' and catching Mrs Welling's half-accusing expression she added hastily, 'only to thank him, you know, for helping out,' she tacked on lamely, 'but I certainly didn't ask for a job there.'
Mrs Welling's thin gnarled old hands worried the top of the bag Thea had given her, and she looked quickly away from Thea as she said sadly, 'Well, I wouldn't blame you, Thea, if you had. They can afford to pay the highest rates, and they're never short of staff. You wouldn't have any problem, though, getting a job there—I mean, knowing the
boss,' she added significantly.
That at least was true, Thea thought as she recalled Marcus's ultimatum of getting help for the rough work or getting another job that did not demand such physical exertion. Then she took a swift inward breath as the message suddenly became clear to her. There had been no mistake, the message was meant for her and was a clear but extremely annoying reply from Marcus to her request that he remove Sam from his watchdog duty. In other words, he had no intention of doing any such thing until she either went back to the receptionist work at the hotel, or took a similar job at Pirates' Cove. She intended to do neither, she thought furiously. Of all the interfering, autocratic—her expression was so fierce that poor Mrs Welling took a step back in surprise and said, 'rhea?'
Thea's
grim countenance softened as her eyes rested on the old lady. She would have to explain the reason for her annoyance, she knew. It wouldn't be fair not to. It looked as if Sam Jacks would be around for a long time indeed, and sooner or later Thea would have to put Mrs Welling into the picture. She frowned as she sought the right way to go about it without giving too much away about her past association with Marcus.
If only he would let well alone, she thought with a sigh before she said slowly, 'I'm afraid this is Mr Conan's doing. I told you that I knew him through my brother. Well,' she went on carefully, 'he didn't like to see me doing the humping of those cases, and he suggested that I take lighter work, that's the reason why a list of vacancies is being sent me,' she added quickly, 'although I made it quite clear that I
had no intention of seeking other employment--and I haven't,' she repeated earnestly to Mrs Welling. `I'm perfectly suited. I should hate to go back to hotel desk work, not after all the sunshine I've been able to get serving in the kiosk, not to mention the fresh air,' she added firmly. 'As for the carrying business, I don't have to worry about that part of it now.' She took a deep breath. 'Mr Conan's sent a lad down to help me. I told him not to bother, but he wouldn't listen.'
`That's very kind of him,' Mrs Welling said quickly before Thea could go on. 'I did say we ought to have a lad, didn't I? Mr Conan's perfectly right. Send him up to see me tomorrow, Thea, and I'll put him on the books.'
`You'll do no such thing!' Thea said crossly. 'We don't need any help, and I said as much! If he refuses to listen to me, then that's his responsibility, it's nothing to do with us,' she added adamantly.
`I don't accept that,' Mrs Welling retorted, equally adamant. 'I can't have him working for nothing—you'll do as I say, and no arguing,' she told Thea firmly.
Thea gave a long sigh. 'I knew you'd take it like that,' she said. 'I wouldn't have told you about it. I'd hoped that Mr Conan would listen to reason and leave me to manage my own affairs. That's really the reason why I rang him,' she admitted quietly. 'I hoped to persuade him to remove the help before Wednesday, and you wouldn't have found out about it. I can assure you that Sam is not working for nothing. He's one of Mr Conan's employees, and you're not to offer to pay him anything. He wouldn't accept it if you did, take my word for it.'
Thea could see that Mrs Welling was not at all convinced, and tried again. 'Look,' she said quickly. `Let me try and explain how it is. I told you my brother worked for Mr Conan, didn't I? Well, it was Mr Conan who met me at the airport and gave me the news of my brother's death,' she hesitated here, and then went on slowly, 'In a way, he feels responsible for me—sorry for me, if you like,' she added, 'and has taken on the job of looking out for me. Now do you understand?' she asked her softly. `I didn't want it that way, but there's not much that I can do about it, is there? But I will not have him dictating what sort of job I must have. I'm happy here, I told you that, but if you insist on paying Sam Jacks then I shall have to leave. You can't afford to pay both of us, and there's only enough work for one. I know that, and so do you, so be a dear and do what I'm going to do, accept the help we're being given. With any luck Sam will ask to be relieved of his duty—it must be boring for him just hanging around at the kiosk all afternoon,' she ended with a smile.
Mrs Welling's expression lightened, but there was still doubt in her eyes as she said slowly, 'Well, if you're sure . .
`I'm sure,' Thea repeated firmly. 'Now, how about some tea, then I'll help you get dinner.'
A little later Thea started to prepare the vegetables for the evening meal. This was as much help as Mrs Welling would allow her to give, for the kitchen was her domain, and she was a very good cook.
Nothing else had been said about the unwanted help Thea was receiving, but it occupied both of their thoughts, and Thea could sense Mrs Welling's
inward dilemma, and wished she would say something, and give her a chance to reinstate her case.
Her silent wish was granted just before she left Mrs Welling to get on with the dinner, having done as much as she was allowed to. 'Do you think I ought to thank Mr Conan for his help, Thea?' Mrs Welling asked in a rush of words, as if she had to get it out or bust.
Thea looked back at her. A wisp of her iron-grey hair had slipped out of its tightly-rolled bun and hung down her withered cheek. Thea took a deep breath, but managed to reply quite airily, in spite of the fury she felt building up inside her towards Marcus for putting her in such a position—and not only her, but this kind, fiercely independent old lady. 'Certainly not! We don't want to encourage him, do we?' she exclaimed. 'Besides,' she added with a weak smile, 'it's my fight, and I don't intend to lose. You can't go consorting with the enemy behind my back, not if you're on my side.'
CHAPTER FIVE
THE following week passed without incident. On the Wednesday, Sam did the carting of the cases to the kiosk, and Thea knew better than to try and stop him. He had been given his orders, and if he failed the chances were he would lose his job, and Thea did not want that on her conscience.
Although by now she had got used to the tall islander's presence, Thea still had that odd feeling that she was under surveillance. She had seen nothing of Marcus since he had appeared at Beach House, but Sam's presence was akin to having him around, and a constant reminder that she was still under Marcus's protective wing.
Far from being bored with the work, Sam made himself useful. Whenever Thea found herself inundated with a crowd of thirsty holidaymakers, she would find Sam beside her, cheerfully handing out cartons and requesting orders, and with a grin saying in that soft voice of his, 'You take the money, Miss John, I'll serve them.'
When this first happened, Thea wondered indignantly if Marcus was making a bid for the takeover of the kiosk, then her sense of humour came to her rescue and she accepted his help with an answering smile of thanks, and a feeling of weak resignation.
It wasn't really fair of Marcus to make his presence felt as much as this, she thought sadly, and it was not helping her to push him out of her life. He
wouldn't see it that way, of course. His king-sized conscience over Michael's death would not allow him to, and it meant that she would have to go on receiving his help indefinitely, and the thought depressed her. Perhaps she ought to have married him and been done with it.
The very thought jerked her out of her miserable musings. What chance of happiness would either of them have? None at all, she told herself firmly, and however much she loved him, her pride would not accept such a proposition. As for her part in agreeing to marry him, she could only plead numb insensitivity. Michael's death had obviously robbed her of her normally sensible outlook, and Marcus must have known this and had taken advantage of her stupefied state, and that hadn't been fair of him either.
A week later Thea made the acquaintance of Timothy Saunders, an American in his late twenties who owned one of the small fishing boats that lay on the beach a few yards away from the kiosk.
She had only noticed him before at the weekends, when he would return from a fishing trip, and would always give her a companionable nod as he passed by the kiosk, but one day during the week he stopped to have a word with her, and was surprised at her very English accent, when she replied to a question of his about the heat of the day and how much cooler it was out there, nodding in the direction of the blue-green bay.
This had provoked other questions, such as what was she doing so far from home, and was she out to see the world, and remembering Pauline's comments on the wandering fraternity, Thea smiled and re-
plied, Not exactly. I'm hoping to settle here.'
Tim had then ordered a Coke, and propped himself up on the ledge of the serving counter. 'Just thought you'd like some sunshine for a change, was that it?' he asked, his light blue eyes crinkling at the corners of his well-tanned face.
Thea replied casually in the affirmative. She knew he was curious about her, and had no intention of giving out any more information, but this was not so easy, for his attitude was a fr
iendly one and not at all pushing and forward.
`We have an English club here,' he said, after taking a long drink from his can. 'Sort of home from home, so I understand,' he had volunteered. 'If you're interested, I can put you in touch, or better still, take you round one evening. I can vouch for a rousing welcome for you, a new face is always welcome.'
Thea thanked him for his interest, but said that she might consider joining such a club in time, but she was a relative newcomer to the island and would like to settle in first; then she tried to change the conversation by asking him if he had caught any fish.
He had grinned at this, and replied that he only went out for the fresh air, and that wasn't an excuse, because after being confined in a bank all day, he needed peace from the eternal chatter of adding machines and typewriters.
Out of the corner of her eye Thea could see that Sam, who had settled himself in his favourite spot by the side of the kiosk and who was supposed to be immersed in a paper, had laid the paper down and was openly inspecting her new acquaintance. If Timothy Saunders had noticed this, he made no
comment on the fact. He was probably used to the ways of the indolent islanders, to whom time meant nothing, and not even the advent of tourism had managed to alter their simple philosophy that God had made the world and man had made time.
This attitude of watchfulness on Sam's part confirmed a suspicion of Thea's that his duties were not only confined to helping her with the rough work, but for her protection as well. However ludicrous it seemed, it was the only answer that made sense, although nothing else did. She was hardly the type to attract admirers and the day's takings did not amount to a vast sum liable to attract thieves, if the idea was to protect her from robbery.
On the Saturday, Tim made a point of stopping to have another chat to her on his way to the boat, and casually enquired if she had any off time, to which she had to reply that she had Sunday off, as Mrs Welling relieved her for that day, and she could have had an afternoon off in the middle of the week had she wanted it, but she preferred to be working. She still missed Marcus, and the only antidote for such yearnings was work and more work. Her first instinct to his query about free time was to say that she didn't need any off-time, the job was a holiday in itself, but he was bound to notice that she had Sunday off, particularly as he now made a point of having a word with her each time he came down to the beach and she had no wish to hand him a snub like that.
