Across the Lagoon (21 page)

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Authors: Roumelia Lane

BOOK: Across the Lagoon
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Even then, though people were leaving their seats all around her, she couldn't stir. Her eyes bright with sadness, she could still see Charlotte roaming the rooms of the castle.

Close against her, Gray said softly, 'Time to go.'

She sighed dreamily and prepared to rise. In the darkness she knew that Stephanie was standing waiting for her and watching her. She could feel those dark eyes burning a hole through her as she stirred against Gray. She was struck by their unnatural brilliance before the younger girl turned abruptly and led the way out.

Everyone was glad to tumble back on to the coach which was waiting for them with revving engine in the car park. It had been a long day and there was nothing to do now except doze on the dark drive back to Venice. Soon they were under way and Carol, still dreamy, felt her head dropping occasionally towards Gray's shoulder as they sped along.

Stephanie had found herself a spare seat a little in front of them and sat with her gaze directed out of the window. Enrico, his work finished for the day, was as eager as everyone else to get back to the Lido and a late dinner at the hotel. A little worn, he stirred his flock into activity when the coach finally arrived back at the lagoon, checking that no one had been left dozing in their seat before he led the way over to the launch.

The coach on the Lido side had to drop several couples and groups off at various hotels on the way, so that it was after ten when the last small party arrived back at the Albany. Hurriedly they used the downstairs cloakrooms for freshening up, then filed in to dinner in an almost deserted restaurant.

Carol, lost in the romantic world of Maximilian and his bride, dined dreamily. When the meal was at an end she floated off sleepily with Stephanie up to their rooms and fell thankfully into bed.

She arose fresh but with a feeling of being keyed up in some way. As the girls washed and dressed ready to go downstairs Stephanie had nothing to say. Carol put her morose mood down to overtiredness and lightly overlooked it.

Over breakfast Gray told them that he would be leaving for Venice immediately afterwards. He didn't say so, but Carol knew that he was going to wind up his work affairs there. She clung to every moment that he sat with them in the late September sunshine on the dining terrace, knowing that when he returned they would be packing their bags for England.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
HEY
were strange days, those while Gray was away. Carol spent the time aching to see him striding back into the Albany, yet dreading the sight of him because it meant the end of their stay in Italy. Stephanie's behaviour only served to make the atmosphere more strained. Her manner was moody and cold and if Carol spoke to her she could only expect a waspish remark in reply.

Nothing she said or did pleased and whatever she suggested they do to pass the time Stephanie chose something different.

A little tired of the carping tones, Carol said to her light-heartedly one afternoon when they were preparing' for the beach, 'What's got into you these days? You haven't had so much as a smile since we came back from Trieste.'

Once again she knew she had said the wrong thing, and there was no doubt that her mere presence was the chief source of irritation, for Stephanie turned on her with that odd brilliant light shining in her eyes and snatching up her towel snapped, 'You think just because you're part of a big family and you live in a house full of dotty women, you've got everything!'

Carol had long since given up trying to make any sense out of these kind of remarks, but she had to admit that Stephanie's brittle mood worried her. It filled the air with tension and made normal conversation between them impossible.

Gray's coming ought to have eased the situation, but it didn't. He arrived one afternoon just when the girls were leaving the restaurant after lunch. Carol saw him the moment he strode in from outside. As his gaze spotted her across the foyer she thought it held an eager light.

Perhaps Stephanie noticed something of this sort too, for she pushed herself in front of Carol and skipping over to him, she swung on his arm to plead, 'Gray! Will you come to the beach with me this afternoon?'

Though Carol was patently ignored in this request Gray's brown eyes rested on her as he said with a lazy gleam, 'Give me half an hour to unwind, then I'll race you to the water.'

Carol's heart leapt at his words. Obviously he didn't plan to leave Italy just yet. Upstairs as she changed she hummed a little tune to herself. She could hear Stephanie in the next room singing in a loud voice for her benefit.

Gray was in the foyer waiting for them when they went down. He had changed from his city suit and was as Carol liked to see him, in his big fleecy bathrobe with a towel turned round his neck.

On the way through the gardens Stephanie monopolised his time and his attention, chattering about nonsensical things and dancing in front of him. But Carol didn't mind. It was enough for her that Gray was here strolling alongside her.

There were no more than a dozen people on the hotel stretch of beach. The sun had that orange glow which heralds autumn. It gave a rather forlorn touch to the rows of empty sun beds and the deserted cafe tables. Emilio, the young boatman whom they had come £o know during the summer, still touted for customers along the stretch of shoreline. But it was doubtful whether he would find enough to make a trip in the picturesque old barque, floating out at sea, worth while.

Carol would have been content to lounge just where the three of them had dropped down, for the afternoon. And she knew that Gray, relaxing on his sun bed beside her, was settled. But Stephanie was not in the mood for lying unnoticed. Putting herself firmly in the picture, she kept on at Gray about his promise to race her to the water.

After half an hour or so Gray stirred himself reluctantly. As Stephanie eagerly grabbed his hand to pull him away with her, he turned to where Carol was lying beside him and with his lazy gleam drew her to her feet too.

Stephanie watched the action with eyes which seemed to Carol to shine like blades of steel. With an unnatural laugh she led the race to the sea.

The water was chilly as Carol had expected it would be. She shivered until Gray came to swing her up against him and around in the water to get the circulation going. Laughing, she was too bemused by his near ness to feel any inclination to swim.

Stephanie floundered in their tracks, ceasing a moment when Gray was catching his breath to fling herself at him. He spun her round good-naturedly before paddling off to have a word with Emilio who was watching them at the edge of the waves.

In his ragged shorts the young boatman was as tanned and weathered as an old tree with his outdoor existence. His teeth gleamed white in his brown face when he smiled, and his hair was coal-black and curly.

Carol was watching him and Gray talking in their pigeon-Italian together when she became aware that Stephanie was splashing and swimming gaily alongside her. Glad that the younger girl felt disposed to having a game with her, she joined in willingly.

They laughed and darted about, then Stephanie with her strangely lit eyes said suddenly, turning her face out to sea, 'Let's swim out to the boat.'

'Don't be silly,' Carol laughed breathlessly. 'It's much too far.'

'Oh, come on! Don't be such an old woman.' Stephanie started out, sending her a taunting look.

Carol's blood ran cold when she saw that the younger girl really intended to make for the boat.

'Stephanie!' she called sharply, treading water. 'Come back at once! We'll never swim that far today.' But the dark head was already lost amongst the wavelets whipped up by a cool breeze.

Teeth chattering, Carol struck out after her worriedly. 'Stephanie, don't be an idiot! Come back here!' Though she called with all her strength, her voice was but a puny sound on the heaving water.

She decided to save her energy and swam for all she was worth. She planned to shake some sense into the younger girl when she caught her'. If only she could get up some
speed
! Her limbs felt stiff and awkward. She was afraid she had let herself get too cold so that now just swimming at all was a terrific effort.

She began to have an awful feeling that Stephanie was finding it chilly too. The younger girl wasn't moving with anywhere near the speed with which she had started out, and they were still some distance away from the old barque.

Surrounded by the green swell, her heart banging from the effort of staying afloat, Carol was conscious now of one thing. She had to get to Stephanie. And she had to get to her quick. She was only a child and even less capable of making it to the boat than Carol was herself.

No sooner had she had these thoughts than she saw the dark-headed figure, just a few yards in front of her, begin to flounder dreadfully. Carol's fear made her lose her own sense of rhythm and she was hit by a wave which made her cough agonisingly.

She struggled on with the desperate feeling that she was making no headway at all. And then it came—the sound .she had been dreading. A terrible cry rang out over the water, and before Carol's horrified gaze Stephanie disappeared beneath the surface.

The shock seemed to freeze her own limbs. When she should have been going like the wind she could do nothing except choke and fight weakly in the powerful grip of the swell. The water was all around her, in her eyes. She couldn't see through it now. There was a thunderous singing in her ears. And suddenly she was tired of fighting…

 

It seemed that she had spent all her life in caverns of swirling green mist, floating with a terrible weight strapped to her. Her chest ached, her head was bursting, her whole body felt as though it was being squeezed in a giant hand.

In the dark distant tunnels she spun through she forgot the colour of the sky, until quite unexpectedly she caught a glimmer of its blueness through the wet blur of her lashes.

Unbelievingly she opened her eyes and found herself lying on the deck of what must be the boat that she and Stephanie had been trying so hard to reach.

The memory of those terrifying moments shooting through her, she sat up with a painful gasp. It was only then that she saw Gray, dripping and white-faced, bending over her. As she began to cough violently he held her against him and said shakily, 'You little fool! You almost drowned!'

Carol leaned blissfully against him. As she did so she saw Stephanie. The younger girl was sitting up a little distance away, a dripping Emilio still supporting her. Pale, but recovered, she had a wild look which had nothing to do with her recent experience in the sea. Her eyes which were fixed on Gray, dripping and holding Carol's bedraggled frame close to him, held a look of shocked incredulity as though they refused to believe what they saw. Carol couldn't make out whether the brittle glitter in them was of sea water or tears.

Two of Emilio's boatmen friends, who had obviously witnessed the rescues, came hurrying up the hatches with blankets. Gray took one and threw it around Carol as she tottered to her feet. He gripped her and assisted her to a deck seat where she sat down, teeth chattering. Another request from him and she had a warming drink in her shaking hands.

Emilio went over the side to bring his little powered boat alongside. Carol was feeling slightly more recovered by the time he returned. She managed to get down to the craft swathed in her blanket with Gray's assistance. He turned to swing Stephanie in after her, then Emilio was speeding them back to the shore.

Luckily the hotel stretch of beach was deserted by this time. The sun had lost its warmth and no one had bothered to stay in the cool breezes of late afternoon. The girls were able to step out of the boat, shivering and dishevelled, with no one to notice them.

The salt water drying on him, his face still pale and taut, Gray shook Emilio's hand warmly. The young boatman, none the worse for his dip, gave Stephanie a comforting hug to coax a smile out of her, before handing her over to her uncle. He told them he would pick up the blankets later at the hotel, then sailed away with his engaging grin.

Gray turned an arm around Carol's shoulders as she swayed on the sand and asked, 'Do you think you can make it to the hotel?'

'Of course I can,' she smiled through chattering teeth. 'I'm perfectly all right now.' It wasn't quite the truth, but something in the haggard way Gray looked at her made her want to reassure him.

He collected their things from the sun beds, cold now in the shadows, and guided her towards the gardens. Stephanie, a dripping, forlorn figure, scuffed silently alongside them.

At the hotel Gray escorted them upstairs to their apartment. 'Get into bed and stay there until morning,' he ordered, depositing them inside. 'I'll have a meal sent up to you later.'

Carol, her lids heavy with fatigue, didn't need telling twice. As the door closed behind them she swayed off to her room and sank down into a chair in her damp blanket.

After a few moments she stirred herself to rise and strip off. She could hear Stephanie sluicing down in the bathroom. Lacking the strength and the will to do the same herself, she dried off, pulled on a nightgown and dropped into bed. Utterly spent, she closed her eyes and after a few moments listening to the pounding inside her head, she knew no more.

How long she slept she had no idea. It was dark when she finally stirred. She lay as though drugged for several minutes before switching on the bedside light to peer at her watch. It was ten to eleven.

She rose and slipped on a dressing gown. The apartment was all in darkness. Stephanie must still be asleep. She switched on a small table lamp and crept about so as not to disturb her. On a chair beside the outside door someone had placed a covered tray. Carol carried it over to the table and found plates of salad, glasses of milk and fruit jellies. The sight of food reminded her how hungry she was.

Quietly she dined listening to the distant surf falling on the beach. It was possible to hear it now that the clamour of summer with its noisy, laughing holiday- makers, had come to an end. Way down below the balcony windows there was no clatter of crockery and chink of wine glasses. The evenings were too cool now for what guests there were to dine out on the terrace. The only other murmur besides that of the waves breaking was the swish and flutter of chestnut leaves being tugged from the trees by the autumn breezes.

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