Stormspell Page 8

  But then, as his dark face creased into anxiety, she found her voice. 'I—why, no. No, nothing's wrong, Joseph.' she got out jerkily. 'The sunlight blinded me for a moment, that's all. Shall we go?'

  'Did you get the money?' Joseph was practical, and she looked down at the envelope clutched in her hand.

  'Oh—yes.' she managed a faint smile. 'Yes. here it is. Now. what is it you have to buy?'

  Joseph produced his list, and Ruth studied it with some confusion. 'Levis?' she muttered doubtfully. 'What are levis. Joseph?'

  'They's denim. Missy Ruth.' he grinned, pointing a black finger down at his baggy pants. 'They's levis, denim trousers, see?'

  'Oh. I see.' Ruth frowned. 'Are you sure that's what he wants? Aren't they rather casual?'

  'They's what all the young folks wear.' Joseph assured her firmly, but Ruth couldn't help thinking that her father would not agree with him.

  But now she sighed. 'Well. I suppose you know best.' she conceded doubtfully, her eyes darting up and down the street. 'Where do you intend to buy these things? I thought I might go to the market. Would you mind if I met you at the boat in. say—two hours?'

  Joseph frowned now. 'You want to go off on your own?'

  Ruth nodded, her smile appealing.

  Joseph hesitated. 'I don't think your daddy want me to leave you alone. Missy Ruth.'

  Ruth sighed. 'Why not?' She made an impatient gesture. 'You said yourself I was growing up. I'll be perfectly all right.'

  'You could get lost—'

  'Then I'll ask my way.'

  'Who from?'

  'A policeman!' Ruth contained her temper with difficulty. 'Joseph. I'm not a child, and you're not my keeper. You go and get the things Mr—Mr Howard asked you. I'll meet you back at the boat at half past two.'

  Short of using force. Joseph had no choice but to comply. He knew if he attempted to detain her. his actions could be misconstrued by others, and the last thing he wanted was to end up in the city jail. But he had one last warning for her.

  'Don't you go speaking to no strangers, then,' he ordered. 'And you be sure and be back at the boat at two-thirty, or I's'll tell your daddy, and he won't let you come here no more.'

  Ruth's face cleared. 'Oh. thank you. Joseph,' she cried, reaching up to press a grateful kiss on his cheek, and handing over the envelope she made good her escape, before he could change his mind.

  It was quite exciting shopping alone, she decided later. Apart from anything else, she could spend as long as she liked looking in shop windows, and without Joseph to hurry her she was able to see and absorb so much more.

  The models in the fashion stores along the main street of the town aroused her interest. They were dressed in a variety of clothes, from sleekly casual suits to elaboratedly designed evening gowns. Silks and chiffons, soft woollens and crepes, their sophisticated elegance filled her with envy, though she doubted she could even walk in shoes with heels so high. She admired exotic scarves and delicately embroidered shawls, colours from blue-grey through to vivid cyclamen, shirts and sweaters whose price tags alone would have kept her and her father in essentials for a year, and supple hand-stitched leatherwork. as soft as her skin. There was even one window given over to a display of furs, in spite of their incongruity in St Vincent. Painted eyes and lips gazed disdainfully above collars of beaver and mink, the richness of sable making Ruth long to feel its folds about her. But such garments were not for this climate. They belonged to northern shores—like England—where the weather was much colder, and there was ice and snow and driving rain, all the things her father told her they had escaped from.

  Inevitably, however, she was reminded of Dominic Howard—no. Crown, she corrected herself resolutely. Thinking of him destroyed her enjoyment somehow, and she turned away regretfully to find the more soberly priced stalls in the market place. He knew England, he knew those cold northern climes. He lived there. And he probably associated With women who looked and dressed just like the models in the shop window. However natural their lives seemed to them, she had to accept that he probably considered both her and her father eccentric in" the extreme, and his attitude towards her seemed to substantiate that belief. He seemed to enjoy talking to her. but he did find her amusing, and the conversations they had had must have given him many a silent chuckle. She wondered what he would tell his friends about her when he got back to Barbados, and felt curiously reluctant to anticipate his reactions. Besides, what did it matter what he said after he had left the island? she asked herself severely. She was never likely to see him again.

  Joseph was waiting for her when she got back to the motor launch, pacing up and down, obviously anxious at the delay.

  'You know what time it is?' he demanded, when she came sauntering along the quay towards him. 'It after three o'clock already! I'se been waiting here since a quarter after two.'

  'I'm sorry.' Ruth was repentant. 'I forgot the time. She sighed, it was so nice being able to please myself for once. Please don't be angry.'

  Joseph's bluster evaporated. 'You get what you wanted?' lie asked gruffly, taking the bags she was carrying from her. 'You get that soap and detergent like Celeste tell you? These bags seem mighty light for them heavy items.'

  Ruth grimaced. 'Yes, I got the things Celeste wanted.' she assured him, allowing him to take her hand to help her aboard. 'What you're carrying are one or two things I got for myself, that's all. I don't have to spend all my money on household necessities, do I?'

  Joseph's silence was eloquent, and she smiled as i she clambered to the back of the boat. She had had a successful morning, and she relaxed contentedly as .the black man steered the small craft through the moorings and out of the harbour.

  'Did you buy the things Mr—Howard wanted?' she ventured, when he was able to give her his attention. and he inclined his head.

  'Didn't take me more'n an hour.' he declared reprovingly. 'You had anything to eat?'

  Ruth grimaced. "No.' She shook her head. 'I never thought about it.'

  'That's what I thought.' Joseph bent to extract a carrier bag from the locker below the steering gear. 'Here. I got you a sandwich and a can of Coke. I guessed you hadn't the sense to think about such things.'

  Ruth grinned, only now becoming aware of the emptiness of her stomach as she opened the carrier to reveal a crusty roll stuffed with chicken and salad. 'Hmm. this looks gorgeous. Joseph. Won't you share it with me?'

  'I've eaten.' he assured her dryly, tearing the ring off a can of beer. 'You enjoy it. Ain't no point in letting Celeste think you can't look after yourself.'

  Ruth acknowledged his perception as she bit into the juicy roll and they exchanged a conspiratorial chuckle as they left the bustling port behind.

  It was after five o'clock by the time they reached Indigo. Ruth had dozed during the latter half of the journey, curled up on the cushions in the stern of the boat.' while Joseph lolled indolently behind the wheel, his clay pipe drooping from his mouth. He insisted on escorting her up from the harbour, ostensibly to carry her bags, but Ruth guessed he wanted an excuse to see Celeste. Despite his comments, he was obviously very fond of her. and Ruth wondered how he resolved his conscience when he went to Confession with Father Andreas. His wife had borne him an armful of children, after all. and therefore must deserve better treatment. But his infatuation for his mistress apparently outweighed his loyalty to his spouse, and Ruth had to acknowledge that she was not experienced enough to make judgement in such matters. It seemed simple enough to her. but apparently it wasn't, and she concluded that sex outside the bonds of matrimony must be different from that inside.

  Celeste was watching for them on the verandah, her face for once without its humorous cast. 'Where you been all this time?' she exclaimed, her reproving glance encompassing both of them before coming to rest on the girl. 'Your daddy been asking for you for more'n an hour. Go to him now. He's in his room.'

  'Is he ill?' exclaimed Ruth, leaping up the verandah steps, but Celeste waved a reassuring hand.r />
  'He just tired, that's all.' she declared, her attention all on Joseph now. 'You run along, you hear. Joe and me'll unpack these bags.'

  Ruth had no alternative but to obey. Besides, she was eager to see her father and tell him what she had learned. Leaving them on the verandah, she walked quickly along the hall and opened the door of her father's bedroom.

  Professor Jason's eyes were closed, but they opened at the sound of someone entering, and he smiled weakly when he saw who it was. 'Ruth, my dear.' he said, with evident relief. 'I was getting so worried about you.'

  'There was no need. Daddy.' Ruth came round the bed and bent to kiss his dry cheek. 'Here I am, safeand sound. Mission accomplished, as they say.'

  Professor Jason sighed. 'You saw Templar?'

  Ruth nodded. 'Yes. I saw him. I had coffee with him. actually.' She moved her shoulders offhandedly. putting off the inevitable explanations. 'He asked how you were, and I told him about the storm. Apparently the roof was blown off the golf clubhouse—you know, along the highway north of Kingstown. But no one was hurt, thank goodness, although he did say some boats were damaged in the harbour.'

  Professor Jason listened to her in silence, then he said: 'You did get Mr Howard's money. I hope?'

  'Oh. yes.' Ruth moved restlessly about the room. 'I got it.'

  'Good.' Her father was relieved. 'The sooner that young man has funds, the sooner he'll get off the island.' He closed his eyes again. 'And now if you don't mind. I'll rest. You'll excuse me from joining you for supper this evening, won't you. my dear? I really am extremely weary.'

  Ruth turned, her lips parting in dismay. She had still to tell him about Mr Templar, and the mix-up over the names, but with Professor Jason's eyes closed she felt reluctant to disrupt his peace. Nevertheless. he had to be told, she fretted, trying to frame the words in her head in a way that would neither annoy nor alarm him. and then started when her father spoke again.

  'Do leave the room. Ruth.' he exclaimed, waving a weary hand. 'I assure you. it's nothing to worry about, just a little tiredness. I'll be perfectly all right in the morning.'

  'But Daddy-'

  Ruth took an involuntary step forward, and her father gave a resigned lift of his fingers. 'Tomorrow. Ruth." he said, with finality, and she left the room feeling as if she had deliberately deceived him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ruth slept fitfully, plagued by the knowledge of Dominic's identity. She had nightmares of him lying in a pool of his own blood, and herself and her father watching him die, powerless to do anything to save him. She saw jagged wounds, limbs hanging by a shred of skin, putrefying flesh—and awakened, bathed in her own perspiration, to find that the sky beyond the living room windows was gradually turning pink.

  It was morning, and with a sigh of relief she got up off the couch. Normally she slept quite soundly, in spite of the hardness of her bed, but her dreams of the night before had coiled her body into a knot, and she stretched her aching limbs with real enjoyment.

  Below the gardens of the bungalow the ground sloped away gradually towards the beach, and she shivered as she opened the shutters and felt the errant breeze against her heated flesh. The sea was translucent, shading from blue through green to palest amber, as the sun rose steadily above the horizon. Tiny clouds threaded the paling sky. and the air smelt fresh and clean, and unbelievably exhilarating.

  Turning, she shed the cotton nightshirt, and rummaged through the clothes her father had installed in the cabinet behind the couch for a bathing suit. She had several bikinis, made by Celeste when her childish one-piece suits had become too small for her. and although her father had not been enthusiastic, he had allowed her the freedom, as no one else was likely to see them.

  The bikini she chose had white spots on a blue background, and it complemented her olive colouring. The texture of her skin meant little to her, however. She was too used to it. and she had no idea that many girls of her age spent hours lying in the sun. trying to acquire just such an all-over tan.

  Snatching up a towel, she let herself out of the bungalow, treading softly across the verandah and down the steps. Then, giving in to the surge of well- being that the morning evoked, she ran swiftly across the dunes and down on to the smooth damp firmness of the sand. Her hair, sleek and unconfined, streamed behind her. and she spread her arms and did a couple of pirouettes before becoming aware that she was not alone. A man was standing near the water's edge, looking her way. and she sobered rapidly as she realised he had been watching her. He was a tall man. lean and muscular, not a West Indian, but with darkly tanned skin that contrasted sharply with his light hair—

  She put uncertain fingers to her lips. It was Mr Howard, she realised in amazement, or Mr Crown. as she had to get used to calling him. It was he who had been walking on the beach at this early hour of the morning, and as he began to stroll towards her she saw the bandage projecting from the turned- back sleeve of his shirt.

  He looked different with his clothes on, shethought, and then blushed at the connotation, but she hadn't realised he was so tall, or that a man could move so lithely. He had a co-ordinated indolence that was almost graceful, and the pants hanging low on his hips accentuated the powerful movement of his thighs. They must be the levis Joseph had told her about the previous day. and she couldn't help feeling that they were not quite decent. They moulded his legs like a second skin, hugging his hips and drawing her unwilling attention to the awareness of his undoubted masculinity. Even his shirt, opened down the smooth expanse of his chest, was not like the shirts her father or Joseph or any of the men she knew wore. It was soft and expensive, like the clothes she had seen in the shop window in Kingstown. and the tawny silk matched the feline lightness of his eyes.

  'Hello.' he said, when he neared her. his eyes narrowed now against the glare, and she was made instantly aware of the brevity of her own attire. His stare was as comprehensive as hers, and his voice was husky as he added: 'I guess you're going swimming. I wish I could come with you.'

  Ruth moistened her upper lip. noticing as she did so that his skin was covered with a gilding of perspiration. In spite of his words and his apparent recovery, she guessed he was exhausted by his exertions. and her first words mirrored her anxiety.

  'Ought you to be up?' she exclaimed, forgetting her embarrassment in her concern for his welfare. 'Doctor Francis said—'

  'I know what Francis said.' Dominic interrupted her flatly. 'And you didn't answer me.'

  'Of course I intended to go swimming.' Ruth admitted. 'But I think I ought to get you back to the house—'

  'I'm not an invalid,' he averred, sinking down on to the sand at her feet and spreading his long legs. 'Nor do I need you to tell me what to do. Go and take your swim. I'll watch you. I need a break from the monotony of those four walls.'

  Ruth hesitated, looking down at him. and he reached up to tug the towel from her fingers. 'Go on.' he said, his eyes heavy with fatigue and something else she couldn't identify. 'I won't leave here. I promise you.'

  Ruth shifted restlessly, scuffing her toe in the sand. 'I ought to talk to you.' she murmured, glancing sideways at him. 'When I went to the bank yesterday—'

  '—they told you who I was, right?' Dominic shaded his eyes with one hand as he looked up at her. 'So—okay, you know now. Does it make any difference?'

  Ruth sighed. 'Why did you lie? Why did you tell us the wrong name?'

  'I didn't." Dominic dropped his hand and fixed his gaze on the far horizon. 'My names are Dominic and Howard. I just didn't give you all my names, that's all.'

  'You deliberately misled us.'

  He shrugged. 'As you say.'

  'And why don't you want anyone to know where you are? Mr Templar—he's the bank manager—he told me your friends in Bridgetown are frantic to know your whereabouts.'

  'I can believe it.' Dominic's tone was uninterested. Then he looked up at her again. 'He didn't tell them?'

  'No.' Ruth moved her shoulders. 'But he'd like to.'

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p; 'I'll bet!' he grimaced. 'I'll handle my—friends, in my own time.'

  'But if anything had happened to you!'

  The words burst from Ruth's lips, and his lips twisted. 'Yes? If anything had happened to me— what? It wouldn't matter, either way.'

  'It would to us.' exclaimed Ruth indignantly, then flushed when he fixed her with a steady gaze. 'Well—' she defended herself, 'I can imagine your father's reactions if we'd let you die.'

  'Oh. I see. You'd do that, would you? Let me die. I mean?' he teased, his mouth humorous now. and she shifted uneasily.

  'You know what I mean.' she declared. 'Mr Templar said—'

  'Oh. it was Templar, was it?' Dominic relaxed back on his elbows, wincing as he jarred his arm. and then silently daring her to say anything about it. 'I thought that didn't sound like you or your father. Believe me. that's only my family's way of putting on the pressure.'

  'Putting on the pressure?' Ruth echoed blankly. 'What do you mean?'

  Dominic shook his head. 'Go and have your swim.' he directed, studying the horizon once again. 'We'll folk again when you come out.'

  Ruth was reluctant, but the sea was enticing and she was sticky from the terrors of the night. With an inconsequent shrug, she bowed her head, and without another word left him to take ever quickening steps into the ocean.

  Despite her awareness of her audience, it was impossible not to find enjoyment in the chill transiency of the water. It was like silk against her skin, soothing her anxiety, and cooling her blood. She swam smoothly, effortlessly, her arms moving through the water in a measured rhythm, her legs kicking lazily in the buoyant, surging current.

  She spent about fifteen minutes swimming and diving, and floating on her back, her face turned up to the strengthening rays of the sun. then she swam back to the shore and walked up the beach, squeezing the sea-water out of the slick coil of her hair. She felt clean and exhilarated, and a little intoxicated too when she encountered Dominic's strange enigmatic gaze.