by Sheila Burns
‘There is the chance that my mother might come out here and join us,’ she said slowly.
‘Then all of you can stay for a month, and see everything that there is to see. I’d love to be your escort, and show you round. A month, and I could take you everywhere.’
‘I shall have to do what Mother wants.’
‘And Cam wants to go home?’ His eyes were watching her very closely indeed.
‘Of course he does! I suppose when people get ill they want to get home more than anything else in this world. They long for their own bedrooms, their own things.’
‘You think that?’
She looked up, faintly amused that he should doubt her. ‘I know it! After all, nursing sick people is my job,’ and she laughed.
‘Sorry.’
The band had been silent for some few minutes and they had been so absorbed with one another that they had not noticed it. A girl was singing in some foreign tongue, for the trend of the evening had changed. She sang exotically, and had a beautiful voice which came to them where they stood. As she sang a clock struck the witching hour, and it startled Mandy.
‘I must go back. I have my patient to care for, and the other girl is not over-trained.’
‘In Malta people keep far later hours than they do in England, you know.’
‘They may, but this is my first night out here. I’m not wholly acclimatized yet; besides I’m worried about my stepfather’s condition, and I simply must get back to him.’
‘Very well, we’ll go,’ then, almost tenderly, ‘One dance more before we depart? They are dancing in the other room and it would be nice to end the evening that way.’ She should have said ‘No’. She should have held back whilst she still could do it, but she felt young, elated, and utterly free. The horror of the exams had gone, and she prayed never to return; suddenly she had entered a fairytale island of flowers, of sunshine by day, and of sweet moonlight by night. Hand in hand they went back into the room where the small tables had been thrust back to the wall, and it seemed that the whole world was dancing. The girl was not singing any more, but the orchestra had begun again with an old-time melody, for Malta is always some way behind the times and is proud of it. The tune was Destiny. Mandy felt Luis’s arm around her, and suddenly they seemed to step out into space. They moved as though with wings on them, dancing in a way that she had never danced before; Luis danced magnificently.
They moved like the wind in summer, gently and happily over a field of poppies and corn. Like the cloud shadow in spring, reflected on some field where the moon daisies grew wild. She had the feeling that she was gliding along some gentle stream, with the exquisite consciousness of movement, drifting, as it were. She knew that his proximity to her was dangerous, but that no longer mattered. Already the affair had carried her along; she had gone too far to change it. It had disarmed her.
His lithe body pressed her to him, and she sensed that he wore some exotic perfume on his hair, for it smelt like a herb garden; there was the sweetness of mint, and thyme, not too strongly, just dimly far away, and all the more fascinating for that. She knew that she was in love with movement. She adored the music, Destiny, and this was her destiny, and this man meant something to her. Tomorrow I’ll forget him, she promised herself, for tomorrow was another day, but, oh, this hour was sweet.
The music stopped.
Hand in hand they went out towards the car, and as she walked with him Mandy tried to conjure up a picture of the ward at this moment, the dim sound of snoring, the faint whisper of pain from a far bed, the shaded lights at the centre table where the Sister on duty and the night nurses sat with the evening papers and their sewing.
But now the memories were far away, and they did not come nearer on command. They walked outside into the sweetness of that balmy air, and they drove back, hardly speaking. Hand in hand, somehow it could have been nothing else. As they neared the flat, he said something about wanting to take her tomorrow to see the temples, and she fixed a time for this.
They turned the corner into the narrow side street where the flats stood, and she saw a familiar figure in the shadow of a doorway,
‘That’s Giuseppe!’ she said instantly.
Luis spoke to her in quite a harsh voice, a tone which was unfamiliar to him, she felt. ‘You know that man?’
‘Yes. Yes, I do. My stepfather knows him. I think Giuseppe works with him.’
‘Does he, by Jove? I rather thought that myself.’
‘Then you know him, too?’
‘Indeed I do,’ and he put out a restraining hand as the car stopped. ‘Let me go first. You wait here for a moment.’
She watched, somehow she had become a statue, and she could feel this. She watched him go over to Giuseppe who apparently had not seen him coming, for he had been trying to tie together a sandal which had become undone. He looked up sharply; this was when Mandy got out of the car. The night was so still that she could hear what was said, and the two men were so wrapt with each other that possibly they did not realize how close she was.
‘What are you doing here?’ Luis asked him.
‘The Baron!’ he gasped.
‘The Baron, it is! Why are you here?’
‘I have the business with the gentleman.’
‘And what is the business?’
‘He ‒ he owe me the moneys.’ He spoke in a whining voice and somehow Mandy knew this was untrue.
‘You come here at this hour to get money?’
‘The gentleman wish it.’
‘And who is the gentleman?’
Mandy knew that Giuseppe would have turned to run, but Luis realized what he intended to do a shade before he made up his mind. She saw Giuseppe leap towards the pavement, and that was when Luis shot out a foot and tripped him. The man crashed down with an oath, and she shrank from him. He lay there whimpering, then he squirmed out of the way, and all the time Luis watched him. Then he spoke:
‘You are not to come here again. Understand that? Never again.’
‘But …?’
‘You work for this man?’
‘I say nuz’ing.’
‘I have it in my power to make you talk. I could force you.’ This was not the man who, throughout the evening, had been so gentle and sympathetic. The man who had danced so divinely, so that in the end Mandy had imagined herself to be half in love with him. Perhaps more than half, yet she still watched the two men, dismayed.
Giuseppe picked himself up from the roadway, she knew that he was not really hurt. He had made a lot of fuss, this type of man usually did groan heavily, and in the end he walked down the street as though there was nothing the matter with him. At the corner he gave a hurried glance back, took to his heels and had gone. Now he would have gone for good.
Undoubtedly Luis knew what he was doing and he was determined to be rid of this man. He turned to Mandy and he smiled.
‘It’s all right,’ he said.
‘I ‒ I wish that I understood all this. Who are you really, and what is the work that you do here? You behave as though you have great authority. Why did you fly at him?’
‘Not to hurt him, as perhaps you realized; maybe to scare him off. He deserved it, you know,’ and his voice was tender again. This was the gentle Luis, the tenderly loving man whom she loved.
‘It ‒ it frightened me,’ she admitted.
‘I warn you, my sweet, that there are many things in my island which you may find difficult to understand, for this is not England.’
’But what is your position here? Who are you?’
‘I’m no mystery man, if that is what you think. I am a baron, and I own a fair part of the island, as my people have done for generations. I love the place. I suppose every good Maltese man would give his life for his island.’
‘You have great influence here?’
‘Some. I work for my island, but you will never find me difficult. Please remember that I am here to help and you can always trust me, and that is for ever.’
She n
odded, then said, ‘Cam interests you?’
‘Yes, he does. I mean him no ill, never think that, but anything slightly mysterious interests me.’
For a moment she did not know what to do. There was a certain uneasiness which seemed to flow through her, and of which she could not rid herself. It was an emotion which brought an apprehension of its own, as though she met a stranger for the first time and beyond him found intrigue.
She was presented with a strange situation which she did not understand and she could not shake off the concealed sense that there was danger here. She was sure that Luis would do nothing alarming or wrong, but she also realized that he knew a lot about her and perhaps their meeting on the plane had not been entirely accidental.
He said, ‘You have got to trust me, you know. May I tell you, and this I swear is the truth, that not for a single moment would I do anything to hurt you? You saw me with this man, and believe me when I tell you he is the kind of which we have too many in the island. He lives by his wits, and they are detestable wits. Malta tries to rid herself of such people, for we do not like them, neither do we want them here.’
‘I don’t like Giuseppe myself, but surely he was doing no harm?’
‘He would not have been waiting here had he not meant harm, for Giuseppe does nothing on speck. He always has some scheme at the back of his mind. He lives that way.’
‘But … surely …?’
He shook his head. ‘He was hanging about here to see your stepfather, I know that.’ She thought of the packet which she had got locked away, and instinctively knew that was what Giuseppe had wanted. A plot was thickening, and there was very little that she could do to stop it.
‘What do I do?’ she asked.
He put out his hands and gently drew her to him. ‘You absolutely refuse to see Giuseppe; turn him out of the flat, and if he gets inside again, threaten him with the police. He is no help to your stepfather. After that, trust me! I swear that I would not betray you for the world. Do believe in me.’
His mouth was very warm as he kissed her own lips and for a single moment Mandy felt that she was uplifted into another world, carried away on the high tide of emotion, drawn into some unknown romance which she had never thought could be. It was a starry night in Malta. Far away there was the sound of little bells ringing, coming from some goat which had strayed from the herd, but it made a sweet music of its own.
Before she could stay herself, Mandy had whispered, ‘Please don’t fail me, for I trust you.’
The eyes above hers looked at her searchingly. ‘I will not fail you, for I love you,’ was what he said.
Then he had gone.
Chapter Five
Mandy let herself into the flat.
As she opened the door she knew that the ecstasy of the moment had left her, and she was aware that something was very wrong. Carmina, the Maltese woman who cared after the housework of the flat, came out of the far kitchen, and she was weeping bitterly. She dabbed at her eyes with a flowery little handkerchief which looked quite absurd in her big hands.
‘Carmina? What is the matter?’
‘The signor has been most ill. Dr Mallea is with him now. Nurse send for him. What do we do?’ She had a rosary in her hand, which tinkled against the folds of the flowery handkerchief as she wept.
‘I’ll go to him.’
Her training had taught Mandy not to show how she felt, almost to hide her dismay. She did not even hurry as she opened the door of the big bedroom with the uncarpeted floor and the fans making a steady buzz like hundreds of bees as they whirled under the ceiling. The condition of the room told her what had happened, and she saw that Cam must have had another attack. It was possible that, in her absence, he had tried to do too much; he was a highly obstinate man, a man whom she could not control.
Dr Mallea turned from the bed, his coat flung aside, his shirt with abbreviated sleeves, and on the other side was Marina, who had been working with him.
‘He ‒ he has had another turn?’ Mandy asked in a whisper, for one was never sure of how much the patient understood.
‘We talk outside.’ The dark little doctor stood back from the bedside, glancing at the patient who lay immobile there, then he picked up his bag and came to her. He opened the door and almost pushed her into the next room. ‘Now, where do we discuss the matter?’
‘The lounge, doctor?’
‘If alone. We must be alone.’
She led the way into the lounge, much larger than the rooms to which she was accustomed, with the leaf-green curtains hanging from the ceiling and those exquisite pieces of carved furniture everywhere. Certainly Cam did not economize on his own comfort.
She indicated a big easy chair with a flowered cretonne cover, on which sprawled wistaria, forget-me-nots and a maze of delphiniums. There was something very comforting about their abundant blueness.
‘Please sit down, Doctor.’
‘This is a so-bad turn, Nurse. He sleep now, but he take the big risk. Too energetic. Too busy. He must not take exertion, you understand? It is most dangerous.’ Then he mopped his brow. ‘Has anything happened this evening to excite too much?’
‘I don’t think so. I think my arrival here pleased him, for he felt safer with someone he knew. He appeared to be quite calm and glad that I had come. I noticed no dismay, no excitement, and he was all right when I left him.’
‘No one saw him?’ The keen dark eyes searched her face, almost as if he distrusted her.
‘The man Giuseppe came to see him.’
‘That man is not to come here. I have given the order. No more! He must see no one, especially not that man. What does he come for? Who is he? What is it about?’ And again the eyes searched her face.
‘I gather that they are connected in the work that my stepfather does.’
‘What is the work?’
She faltered as she said, ‘I ‒ I don’t know, and that is the truth.’
He said, ‘Tst. Tst. Tst,’ as though irritated, and believing that she did know really and was holding it back. She realized this. She stood there, her arms folded before her.
‘I am speaking the truth, Doctor, when I tell you that I know little of my stepfather. I was training when he met and married my mother; during the year he spent most of his time abroad, so that I have seen him but four times. He works on some business which I gather deals with selling goods from one country to another, and what the business actually is I admit that I do not know.’
‘He is stepfather, not father then?’
‘My stepfather. My own father died when I was very young indeed, and I do not remember him.’
‘Yet you fly here for the ’elp? You come fast when you know he so ill?’
It was difficult to keep controlled when talking, for she felt that the doctor did not believe what she said, and she went on slowly, ‘I came only because my mother wanted it. I have just qualified, and badly needed a rest. I went home for that rest and that was when I found that this had happened. My mother had booked her passage to come here to help my stepfather, then she sprained her ankle and could not come. I came for her.’
He stared at her. ‘Your mother? You thinks that she come soon? He is still most ill.’
‘Her ankle is too badly sprained for her to travel as yet, but it is better, so she said on the ’phone this evening. In two or three days it is possible that she could fly here.’ He nodded, apparently satisfied though still doubting.
‘Tonight’s attack difficult. One more would be fatals; stay with him. He must see no one. Not even Giuseppe. No friends, no’zing but the sleep. That is the order.’
‘I understand.’
‘If you do wrong, he will die. Make no mistake about it, for if he have ’zings to disturb then he will die.’
‘Very well, I promise to take the greatest care of him.’
‘Make him sleep much. Tonight if your mother comes, she cannot see. None can see, for he must rest,’ and then for the first time he smiled at Mandy. She was
amazed at the enchantment of that smile. ‘I trusts you,’ he said. Maybe this was the greatest compliment that she had ever had.
She did keep her word.
She sent a note to Luis that she could not meet him tomorrow for her stepfather was worse. She did night duty with him, much relieved to see with the morning that he was better. The temperature had dropped and he asked for food. He was still too ill save for a feeding-cup, and grumbled that it did not taste the same this way. The doctor came early, before the Maltese day had had time to get hot, and he also was pleased. Cam was progressing, but the orders were no visitors, and quiet.
‘This shall be,’ Mandy said.
There came flowers and fruit from Luis and a note putting off the visit to the temples for two days. Mandy nursed him through. When Giuseppe returned he was sent hurriedly away and made a fuss. Later when the first cool came and Mandy went out into the little patio, she saw him again. Someone must have left the door to the garden unlocked.
‘You must not come here, Giuseppe,’ she said.
‘I must see master.’
‘He is very ill. Nobody can see him.’
‘The packet I bring? I not have the moneys, and I must have the moneys.’
She looked at him calmly. ‘If you return I shall telephone the police and ask them to take you away.’
Horror came into his face, and for a moment he cringed. ‘It is most importance,’ he said.
‘Your own freedom should be of greater importance to you, and when I say that I shall send for the police, I shall do it.’ Her voice was almost stern. One day I’ll make a good sister-in-charge, she told herself.
He went like a flash.
At least she had accomplished something here, and was thankful for it. There was a telephone message from mother that her ankle had not been so good, and she would have to delay her visit. By the end of the week she’d be in Valletta, she hoped. By the end of the week anything could happen, Mandy knew.
