Summer Lightning (7 page)

Chloe sipped her tea. “Oh, well, don’t worry, Lotta. I expect your master will see that it doesn’t happen too often.”

“Indeed I hope so,
signorina
.”

Lotta’s broad back looked uncompromising as she finished setting things to rights and left the room.

Chloe watched her go with a little grin. Poor old thing, she was probably going to find that a lot of things were different, once Louise got into her stride.

For herself, Chloe had made up her mind to try to avoid crossing Louise. Live and let live. She hoped Louise, for her part, would take the same line.

After she had finished her tea and showered, she stepped out onto the little balcony, to sniff the crystalline air and delight once again in the view.

It was then that she noticed how eaten by rust, how fragile, was the iron railing around the balcony. Touching it, she felt the metal quiver. She peered over it, then drew back with a little shudder. She had never had much of a head for heights, and it looked a long, long drop to the rocks and cultivated terraces below. But no premonition troubled her. She simply thought, as she went back to her room,
I must remember not to lean against the railing.

She dressed in slacks and shirt and threw a light cardigan over her shoulders, for this was going to be a working day.

When she went downstairs she found Dominic and Mark already at breakfast.

There was fresh crusty bread, smelling deliciously, on the table. There were big yellow cups for coffee, honey in the comb, a jugful of roses adding their fragrance to that of the bread and coffee. She remembered reading somewhere that some famous person—Cicero, she thought— had called Malta “land of roses and honey.”

Dominic was reading the
Times of Malta
, but he put it down and got to his feet punctiliously. Mark jumped up to pour her some coffee and hot milk.

They ate and talked in desultory fashion. Nobody mentioned Louise’s party. They spoke mainly about the dig.

Nibblu came in after a while, to deliver a message. “The
signora
says please to wait for her, sir, she wishes to go out with you this morning. She has had breakfast in her room. Now she is getting ready.”

“Message ends,” grinned Mark. “So now what?”

“So we take her with us, as requested. We show her over the dig, every inch of it. We trust that once will be enough.”

Dominic’s voice was grim. He was angry with Louise, but he wasn’t going to play into her hands by losing his temper. He knew her, had her measure. He mustn’t let her get under his skin.

Louise showed no outward sign of her late night. As she came in she exclaimed dramatically, “Lord, what a father and mother of a hangover!” But she looked, in fact, as fresh as if she’d gone to bed at nine o’clock.

“Give me some coffee, Mark, my dear,” she added. “Black, and hot, and strong. It’s the only thing that does any good.”

Gravely Mark handed her the coffee. Louise took it and piled sugar into it. She seemed to be waiting expectantly for adverse comments. She was a little on the defensive, perhaps expecting open criticism from Dominic. His bland politeness seemed to take the wind out of her sails. She eyed him warily. Then she laid herself out to be intelligent about what she was going to see at the dig. Chloe’s fears of a ruined morning began to die away
.
Louise is no fool,
she thought, unaware that already Louise had paid her the same compliment.

When she had finished breakfast, Chloe excused herself and went off to get her photographic paraphernalia, which she had left all ready in the library the night before.

Films, filters, exposure meters, cameras, tripods, flashlight apparatus, notebooks—she checked them over again, then carried them out to the car. Nibblu helped her stow them in the trunk.

“You must take a picture of Dominic and Mark and me when we get to the dig, Miss Linden,” Louise said graciously. “We’ll send it to the
Prattler
.”

“Good lord, no,” Dominic protested. “We certainly won’t.”

“Oh, but I insist.
‘
Famous archaeologist Professor Dominic Vining, with his cousin Louise Carlyon, and friend, alongside his latest Stone Age discovery
.’
It’ll be marvelous publicity for you, darling.”

Dominic said nothing, even more eloquently than yesterday when they were entering Mdina’s splendid silence.

Chloe didn’t have to look at Mark to know he was grinning delightedly again. She fancied he would be particularly enthralled by Louise’s “
and friend
.”

At the dig, feverish work was in progress. A gang of men were burrowing into a long, tunnel-like passage leading downhill. The members of Dominic’s team were supervising or sorting piles of pottery, ornaments, bones, statues of grotesquely fat males and females, or making notes and sketches.

Dominic made quick work of introducing them. Toby French, plump, bald and enthusiastic. Hugh Warren, a lean and canny Scot. Dr. du Plessis, a South African with a strong Afrikaner accent and a tough look to him. Harry Lemon, a friend of Mark’s Oxford days. Walter Fiennes, the oldest member of the team, and the only married man among them.

Dominic didn’t give Louise time to go into action. He hustled his party without delay into the sanctuary. For Stone Age families it had been first a place of worship of their pagan gods and then a place of burial, he told them.

Chloe looked around her with keen professional interest. She began assessing the problems involved in underground color photography. She started mentally planning her work, the scope of which Dominic had already explained. She saw that it was going to be very novel and exciting.

They passed through a semicircular forecourt into a large chamber, elliptical in shape. This was divided by a central passage from a similar chamber.

The passage led into other chambers. Dominic named them. The shrine of the presiding deity. The altar room for animal sacrifices. The place of the oracle...

They stared in wonder at the vast blocks of stone that had been used in their construction—colossal slabs, tooled as precisely as dominoes, precisely fitted together.

“And by people who didn’t know the use of metal tools,” Dominic said.

“Fantastic. And what’s that booming, menacing noise—like a ghostly voice—all around us?” Louise wanted to know.

“Actually, it’s
my
voice. The acoustics of this place are very strange indeed. In some way the male voice—though not the female—is magnified. The oracle
had
to sound superhuman, you see.”

He halted at a flight of wide, shallow steps leading down into a lower set of chambers. A chalked notice said DANGER—NO ENTRY.

“Down there are the chambers where they kept their treasure,” he said. “Now watch this.”

He knelt down on one of the upper steps and pressed down heavily on one of those below him. At once it canted and rose smoothly on end.

“That’s a trick step. It was meant to send intruders to their death.”

They leaned over to peer at the wide hole, with blackness beneath it, that the raising of the step had revealed. “What a horrible idea,” Chloe exclaimed.

But Louise thought it fascinating. “Show me how it works, Dominic.” He explained that it was done by counterweights, and she watched him press it back into place. “Fascinating,” she said again.

They emerged at length, by way of a sloping stone ramp on a rocky terrace, fragrant with wild thyme, starred with tiny flowers. The main courtyard of the sanctuary was behind them. Opposite, the tiny island of Filfla rested lightly in the purple blue sea. Below, the gentle swell washed on the ledges of apricot cream rock.

“The cliffs down there are honeycombed with caves. Perhaps when we get to exploring them, we may come across what they’ve found elsewhere—the skeletons of great Pachyderms, bears—extinct species. Humans, too.”

“But surely pachyderms and bears never lived on Malta?” That was Chloe.

“No, they came from Africa. Once this group of islands was joined to it, you see. The great beasts came to Marsa Xlogg for fresh water, we suppose. It’s...”

“Oh, God, must we go into all that?” Louise broke in rudely. She couldn’t bear not to be the center of attention. And she was bored. “Can’t Miss Linden take our pictures now, for heaven’s sake?”

Chloe looked at Dominic for guidance. He took Louise by the arm.

“Sorry, my dear. No time for that now. Another day, perhaps.”

“But I...”

“Now—” briskly “—where would you like to go from here? Mark will drive you.”

“I insist...”

“He’ll bring the car back here for us, so you can feel free to do exactly as you like. We three won’t be back for lunch or tea. So enjoy yourself. Telephone Santa Clara whenever you want to go back, and Nibblu will send a car for you. So long.”

His manner had such firmness that even Louise didn’t try to argue. In fact she was seated in the car with Mark, and on the move away from the dig, before she had recovered from her astonishment and sense of outrage. Dominic looked at Chloe. He grinned in boyish triumph. “And now, C. Linden—to work,” he said briskly.

Chloe collected her impedimenta and followed him into the sanctuary. No doubt his new attitude to her meant nothing but that he was delighted to be rid of Louise. But her inner glow of happiness made nonsense of this cautious appraisal. She was convinced he liked her. It was a beginning...

Mark, driving Felicia to her Mecca, the Felicia, wasn’t nearly so happy. They hadn’t gone far before she laid a long, slim hand, scarlet-nailed, on his arm. “Mark, sweetie.”

He shot her a sideways glance of suspicion, which she met with a dazzling smile.

“Listen, pet. Will you do a little thing for Louise?”

“Depends what it is.”

She held out a paper, but they were driving through a
casal
, and he couldn’t spare a glance.

“What’s that?”

“My account from the hotel, pet.”

“Very interesting.”

“They let me go without settling it when I gave Dominic’s name.”

“Oh. They did, did they? Courteous of them.”

“Fix it for me, will you, sweetie? And explain to Dominic.”

Mark frowned.

“Explain what?”

“The situation. Financial. Tell him that of course I instructed my bank, before I left England, to transfer my account to their branch in Valetta. But the idiots have let me down. Nothing has arrived. Not a sou.”

“Very odd. Perhaps I’d better send them a telegram and find out what went wrong?”

“Oh, no, darling, don’t do that. I’ve written myself by airmail,” Louise said hastily. “I’m furious with them.”

“But didn’t you bring travelers’ checks?” Mark persisted. He felt there was something very fishy about Louise’s story. Banks didn’t let one down. More likely she’d cleaned out her account and there was nothing to transfer.

“Of course. Only the bridge and poker stakes on board got pretty high, and my luck was out. To tell you the truth, I’m broke. You might persuade Dominic to stake me till my money arrives, pet.”

“How much?”

She flicked her extravagant lashes at him, but he was looking at the road ahead.

“Shall we say two hundred fifty, poppet?”

“I’ll mention it to Dominic,” Mark said austerely. Poppet, indeed! And two hundred fifty—just like that.
She’s got a nerve,
he thought with strong disapproval.

“My dear, don’t you think it’s a very good thing I came out when I did?” She was ready to change the subject now she had made her point. “This girl, I mean.”

“You mean Miss Linden?”

“Who else?”

“What about her?”

“Of course she’s wangled this job deliberately. Hoping to catch him, wouldn’t you think? The eligible Professor Vining. That story about having taken some boyfriend’s place is too transparent, isn’t it? I wormed it out of Dominic—couldn’t imagine he’d willingly have engaged a female to work for him. He must have been furious.”

“If he was, he isn’t any longer. He realizes she knows her job. I bet her work is first class,” Mark said with emphasis.

“Really?” She wasn’t interested in Chloe’s ability. “Would you call her attractive?”

“Extremely. Who wouldn’t?”

“Including Dominic?” Louise’s voice was sharp.

“Surely. He’s a man.”

The blue green eyes flashed.

“Has he told you his opinion of her?”

But Mark had had enough.

“Hadn’t you better ask him yourself?” he snapped.

Louise’s eyes narrowed, but she laughed and laid a placating hand on his arm.

“There, ducky, don’t be cross. I hadn’t realized you’d fallen so hard for her. Well, go ahead and have fun, pet.”

“Thank you very much,” Mark said savagely. “And here we are at the Felicia. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and fix up this unpaid bill of yours.”

“Bless you, honey. And later on, when you’ve opened that account for me at the bank—Dominic won’t mind, you know, you can tell him I told you to do it—you may come back and I’ll buy you a nice cold martini.”

But Mark had gone.

Louise smiled maliciously as she crossed the foyer and made her way out to the courtyard with the tables and umbrellas.

A puppy
,
she thought,
but he'll soon come to heel. And he’ll be useful for heading Dominic off this Chloe Linden
...

Chloe was dog tired when they returned to Santa Clara that evening.

She had had a fascinating day, but the work had been difficult and at times strenuous. She had had no conception, till she began to scramble around them, of the immense scope of the excavations.

She had spent the morning taking notes. Then she had shared a picnic lunch with the team. They had been friendly but casual, treating her as a working unit, like themselves. That had pleased her a lot. She hoped Dominic had noticed. She was still smarting a little from his earlier strictures.

During the day she had watched him at work and thought him an ideal leader. He was tactful with the team, kind but firm with the labor. He was familiar with every inch of ground, every detail of the work. She could see how both team and labor admired and liked him.

She recalled moments when he had helped her over a rough and dangerous place, or laughed with her at something amusing, or made helpful, knowledgeable suggestions when she struck some snag.