Across the Lagoon (9 page)

Carol smiled tolerantly. She supposed it was a bit heavy for a fifteen-year-old. She got the impression that the younger girl would have preferred one of the smaller, livelier hotels.

The porter opened the door with his own keys when they arrived and trundled the luggage inside. He performed the rest of his duties by taking them on a lightning inspection of the interior, before leaving them to it with a servile smiling bow.

Carol gazed around intrigued at her surroundings. It was really like an apartment. Though the furniture was heavy and solid-looking, the decor of deep purple fitted carpets and paler lilac curtains, with pink touches here and there, was quite beautiful. There were two single bedrooms with an adjoining bathroom, and the two tall french windows in the lounge each had a stonework balcony which looked out over the terrace and gardens to the sea.

There was no time to take in everything. Stephanie was already having a quick rinse in the bathroom. When she came out and drifted into one of the bedrooms Carol hurried to wash and brush her hair. A few minutes later they went out to search for the lift. Carol had left off her suit jacket and wore now just her skirt and blouse. Stephanie was still in her neat bottle- green dress.

They found Gray Barrett waiting for them beside the reception desk. Still in his dark suit, he looked as though he had had a quick spruce up. He led the way across the foyer to the entrance to the restaurant, having apparently learned his way around. At the door they were met by a striking-looking man in a deep royal blue jacket with black lapels and black trousers. He had a folded napkin over his arm and he led them glidingly through the restaurant to a table beside one of the big arched windows.

Carol was sure that by now she would be quite used to dining with Gray Barrett. She was shown into the seat next to his at their circular table, after which she decided firmly to herself to pretend he wasn't there. It was unfortunate that this time during the meal he chose to eye her rather penetratingly.

She felt his gaze raking her washed-out features and thin arms. At one point when she was toying with a rather strong-tasting dish he said gruffly, 'You should eat more.'

She felt her face turn pink. She knew he was thinking of her swooning spell at the airport. She remembered now that she had been walking quite close alongside him. The thought that it must have been he who had . caught her as she fell made her ears burn with embarrassment.

She realised, thinking about it, that so far she hadn't done too well at the job of chaperoning. If anything on the latter part of the trip it had been Stephanie who had looked after
her.

It was obvious, judging by the stern brown gaze fixed on her now, that she was going to have to do better in the future.

The meal consisted of several courses; four or five, Carol lost count. Though some of the food was a little spicy, it was*on the whole varied and rather delicious. They had a calf's liver dish, and another where small birds in a rich and tasty sauce were served on slices of maize pudding. There was a light red wine to drink, although Stephanie was allowed only table water.

They didn't hurry away from the table when they had finished. Gray Barrett had a sheaf of the hotel literature with him and this he went through painstakingly to point out to the girls all they needed to know. 'You should have plenty to keep you occupied,' he said in his brisk detached way. 'The hotel has its own private beach and there are cabins and showers and a beach restaurant. There's a swimming pool in the grounds plus tennis courts and gardens, and a nightclub, which doesn't concern you.'

When he had been through everything he gathered the literature together and said in a businesslike way as though he was still discussing the stock market with his friends, 'I'm free for the rest of the day. If you want to go to the beach,' he looked at his watch, 'I'll give you an hour to unpack your clothes, then meet me at the main door.'

Stephanie, who had been listening dutifully but with a certain lassitude, suddenly perked up. Her face took on that eager light. She pushed back her chair and scrabbled to her feet to exclaim, 'An hour? We'll be ready ages before that!'

Her radiant look was lost on her uncle who had risen himself and was casting his preoccupied gaze down the now deserted restaurant. He said distinctly and a little pompously as they went out, 'You'll find it useful to remember, Stephanie, that it's wise to rest after a heavy meal. I'll accompany you to the beach at three.'

Carol walked meekly alongside the big man. She got the feeling that he was putting himself out to try and suit Stephanie, but she wondered why he didn't go about it in a less starchy manner.

At all events his niece seemed well pleased with the arrangements. She skipped along ahead of Carol towards the lift and chattered on the way up about what they would wear. Carol viewed her sudden vivaciousness with a happy relief.

She knew by the kindness and concern shown to her - on the latter half of the trip that Stephanie was basically a pleasant and well-meaning child, but she seemed subject to fits of moroseness and despondency which were a little disconcerting.

They had a gay time upstairs hanging up all their clothes. Carol couldn't believe, when she saw her crowded wardrobe, that all those colourful garments were hers to wear whenever she liked.

They tossed the occasional light-hearted comment to each other from their respective bedrooms while they experimented with this and that. In the end Carol settled for a two-piece swim-suit in a gay orange paisley design, with a matching halter-neck beach dress. Stephanie floated in, her small figure looking trim in a white two-piece swim-suit with a pink and blue polka-dot design, and a matching beach dress, its open edges down the front embroidered with tiny pink and blue flowers.

Though the younger girl was impatient to be off she was careful to check by her wrist watch that it was almost three before she led the way to the door.

Carol moved beside her along the corridor. She felt a shyness seize her as they went down in the lift. All the confidence she had enjoyed, preening in her new outfit before the mirror, deserted her completely when she thought of Gray Barrett's raking gaze.

She needn't have worried, however. He was sitting under one of the striped umbrellas with his back to the door jyhen they went out. As Stephanie padded up to him in her sandals, he rose and slotting his finger in to mark the page of the rather dull-looking book he was reading he led the way towards the gardens. Carol noticed that he was still wearing his suit. He carried his jacket Trver his arm and had unbuttoned the collar of his blue shirt. He seemed dourly ill at ease amongst the laughing holidaymakers thronging the hotel paths.

Shining through the feathery green of pine trees and above brilliantly flowering canna lilies was the sparkling strip of blue sea. The Albany section of the beach was marked by black and white sun beds and umbrellas and striped beach cabins. There were pedal boats in the water which edged mile upon mile of golden sands to right and left. Bobbing out at sea romantic-looking craft with red billowing sails advertised cruises to the romping holidaymakers and speedboats and water skiers sliced the blue distances.

The Albany beach restaurant was a circular stone building with windows all round and a railed sun roof on top. It stood on its own section of terrace and here at a shaded table Gray Barrett settled himself with his book. Stephanie wasn't unduly put out by this because the sand was only a few feet away from him. Gaily she chose sun beds on a line with her uncle's table and throwing off her beach dress flopped down.

Carol followed suit with almost the same gay abandon. It was a relief to know that the two of them were going to be on their own, and the scenery had an intoxicating effect on her. Fully recovered now from her slight indisposition after a substantial meal and a period of relaxation, she felt herself being swallowed up again in the flood of excitement. This was Italy! She was really here. Venice was just across the lagoon, and she had actually flown here in a fantastically modern plane. When she looked back on the experience now, she wondered why she hadn't let herself enjoy it more.

Gray Barrett ordered a drink for himself. He saw to it that the waiter served the girls with similar tall glasses, and then he forgot them. This was patently obvious to Carol. Stephanie, however, seemed content just to know he was there. As they wiggled their toes in the sand together she asked impulsively, 'Shall we swim?'

'If you like.' Carol jumped up with her. They ran down to the water and braved the first cold touch of the waves, wading in and splashing happily.

Living in a coastal town Carol was used to the sea, but this limpid clearness which was new to her was enhanced by the velvet warm caress of Italian sunshine.

They came out dripping, after a while, and laughingly hurried back to their towels. After drying off and combing their hair amongst the scattering of impedimenta from the beach bags they dropped down on their stomachs to pull on the straws of their tall drinks.

From where she was lying Carol had a good view of Gray Barrett. She noticed that he had laid aside his book and was engaged in conversation with an elderly, scholarly-looking man at the table next to him. She'd like to guess that they were discussing some dry-as-dust subject. That would explain why he was looking more relaxed, she thought wryly, because he had found a man of his own type down here at the beach. Now that he was less ill at ease he even managed to smile occasionally.

She watched how the grim set of his features was warmed fleetingly by that slow white gleam, not realising that she in turn was being watched. Stephanie followed her gaze, and taking a tug on her drink, she said, 'You like him, don't you?'

While Carol was juggling with this candid observation behind a furious rush of colour, Stephanie went on complacently, 'All the women go for Gray. But they never get anywhere. He's too wrapped up in his work.' There was a childish pride in her voice as she elaborated for Carol's sake. 'He works for the government. He'sthe head of the exhibitions department. Mummy, she's his sister, told me he was always brilliant at school. He's come to Venice to put on an exhibition for the summer.' A feminine wryness mingled with the complacency in her tones as she recited, 'When he's at Rowan House he catches the eight o'clock train up to London. And he travels on the five-thirty back down again. On Saturdays he has a drink in the village pub, and on Sundays he drives out to the golf club.'

Musing as she spoke, Stephanie put herself on a line with Carol's gaze and added chattily, 'He's only thirty- five. You'd think he was at least ten years older, wouldn't you?'

Excruciatingly embarrassed at the subject of the conversation Carol wriggled and said, feigning a careless air, 'I think I'll go and take another dip.'

They left the beach just after six. Stephanie noticed her uncle's imperious wave as he rose from his table and quickly they gathered their things together. Damp and glowing, they scuffed alongside the big figure as he moved with an impatient step back through the hotel gardens.

In the foyer they went their separate ways. Dinner was at eight o'clock, Gray Barrett informed Carol. He told her to get down promptly. Carol was excited because she thought they might be dining in the outdoor restaurant. Stephanie's sparkle was for another reason. She would have her uncle across the table from her again.

Upstairs they pampered themselves with leisurely baths and scented after-sprays, using up the spare moments until it was time to dress for dinner. Carol felt very grand in an ice-blue dress with sparkling beaded decoration around the neck and sleeves. Stephanie looked sweet in a beautifully tailored rose pink dress.

They went downstairs on the stroke of eight. Gray Barrett was waiting for them. He had changed and Carol was fascinated by his appearance. She had never seen a man in evening dress before. Though his was of the old school of pleated shirt front and velvet roll- collared dinner-jacket, she had to admit he looked rather striking.

With his usual perfunctory glance in their direction he led the way, not as she had hoped, out of doors, but across the foyer to the indoor restaurant. It was peopled at this time of day by grand old ladies and bald-headed men in stiff fly-away collars. There were one or two slightly less ancient types about, but most of the guests were dining out on the terrace.

In his beautiful royal blue jacket, his table napkin in place over his arm, the maitre d'hotel guided them with his smiling flair to their table beside the windows.

They dined superbly on roast lamb, Italian style, with tender new artichokes flattened and fried in oil, and slices of veal skewered to slices of ham and served with mushrooms, peppers and lemon. Carol was sure that it was the fresh air which made her face glow healthily in the twilight lighting of the restaurant. Gray Barrett, however, had other opinions. He fixed his eye on her and then on her glass and said in his curt, managing way, 'As most of the children drink it out here I saw no harm in allowing you a little wine, but perhaps you'd better do like Stephanie and stick to table waters.'

His words only served to make Carol's face flame like a beacon. She would gladly drink sea water if only he would take his flinty penetrating brown gaze off her.

They finished off with a sweet made of almonds and candied fruit. Though he had spoken to his niece only in a supervisory capacity throughout the meal, Stephanie was obviously in her seventh heaven when her uncle suggested that they retire to the hotel lounge. She pranced sedately ahead, her dark hair swinging attractively on her shoulders.

The lounge was across the foyer from the restaurant and though Carol had caught glimpses of it in passing she couldn't help being stunned inwardly at the sheer luxury the moment she set foot inside.

The tremendous space was topped by a suspended ceiling which was a grille of polished wood and hidden lighting. In squared-off groups beside bamboo partitions, huge chesterfield chairs and sofas in soft white leather faced in on to marble-topped coffee tables. Along the whole length of one wall panoramic windows looked out on to the illuminated swimming pool and gardens. Across the space against tall pillars and alongside the bamboo work, ornate palms and potted plants gazed at their reflections in the smooth polished tiles.