Island for Dreams (8 page)

‘
I see,
’
Nora replied, wishing she could think of something to put him effectively in his place.
‘
Well, thanks, Juan, for all you
’
ve done. Maybe if I meet someone who seems to coincide with my requirements I might get in touch with you to ask your approval.
’

He hesitated, his glance at her upturned face deep and probing. Then the mocking smile was back.

‘
You do that,
’
he advised.
‘
Better if he knew nothing about your circumstances. That way he won
’
t feel he
’
s being used.
’

The rich colour swept under her clear skin. She said icily,

‘
Charming! Nice to know that I need money to boost my sex appeal.
’

He said harshly,
‘
You know I didn
’
t mean anything of the kind. You
’
re determined to fall out with me, but it
’
s no go. You
’
re tired, so we
’
ll forget all about it.
’

Nora drew in a deep breath.
‘
You
’
re dead right. I am tired, tired of
... of your superior advice, and ... and ... Oh, go away!
’
she ended, near to tears.

The parcel slid from his finger to the carpet and her heart fell with it as he grabbed her shoulders.

‘
All right,
’
he muttered with tight teeth.
‘
Have it your way. Only before I go here
’
s something to remember me by.
’

His mouth closed suffocatingly on her own trembling one and she ran through a whole gamut of emotions with an element of surprise that gave way eventually to outraged anger. This turned into something so wonderful that it defied description. Her body melted against him as arms like iron bands drew her still closer.

It was not unlike falling from a great height when he eventually let her go. She swayed, wondering what had hit her, bemused beyond words. But Juan was not so starry-eyed. He bent to pick up the parcel he had dropped before hauling her into his arms, then gave her a withering look.

‘
Nice to have met you, Miss Bain. Do me a favour and forget we met. You have a nice little set-up here. There
’
s no reason why you shouldn
’
t have a nice holiday. Goodbye.
’

CHAPTER THREE

In t
he days which followed Nora had to admit that her encounter with Juan Cregeen had shaken her mentally as well as physically. Being alone she tended to brood upon it at first, acknowledging that while it had upset her it had also rammed home to her the danger of becoming too deeply involved with anyone during her stay on the island.

So gradually she began to enjoy herself, going off in the car to explore the island but doing no more driving at night. The image of the mocking Juan sitting beside her was far too vivid yet to dismiss.

Most days, weather permitting, she bathed in the sea, taking care to use a particular corner of the beach away from where the yachts and boats were moored near to the pier. Neither Juan nor Tricia had put in an appearance on the water again and Nora hoped they would not do so while she was around.

She spent some nights on the balcony of her flat, often taking a stroll before bed either along the shore or, if the tide was in, along the pier, along which there were never more than a dozen people enjoying the evening air.

One night when the tide was in, Nora strolled along the pier, passing the few fisherman who after throwing out a hopeful line were now returning home with their catch. The railway line used by the miniature train which ran down the centre of the pier was strewn with empty mussel shells, a reminder of the skill of the seagulls. They used the rail to smash the mussels open for food.

It was one of those quiet balmy evenings with very little wind, and the sea was as smooth as a mill-pond. The pier was almost deserted now
as it drew near to closing time, but Nora reckoned on strolling to the far end and back before the gate was closed.

She drew in deeply of the night air and gazed wistfully across the water turning to gold in the dying rays of the setting sun. With her hands thrust into the pockets of her woolly jacket she strolled along, aware of work in progress on the protective rails enclosing the pier.

The workmen had gone home hours ago, leaving a six-foot length of rail still to be put up. A rope had been put across the space and Nora was on her way back along the pier when she noticed the small purse lying on the edge of the space over the water.

At first sight of it her heart lurched. Had someone gone off the pier into the water leaving the purse? She walked to the edge of the space and looked over, but there was no sign of anyone in the water, although the rope had been unhooked leaving the space unprotected. The purse, a plastic one, was empty. It was the kind that a child would have, and she wondered if children had unhooked the rope while playing there, and realising the time, they had gone, hence the purse which one of them might easily have dropped. The sudden thrust between her shoulder blades sent her hurtling through space and the scream from her lips was lost in the cries of seagulls overhead.

After the shock of sudden impact with the water, Nora reared her head and shaking the water from her eyes swam strongly for the shore. The tide was on its way out and was lapping greedily around the girders of the pier. It would have been easier to swim to the iron steps leading up on to the pier,
but she had no wish to meet the person who had pushed her into the water in a place that would now be deserted.

Fortunately the tide had receded from the sea wall enough by the time she got there for her to walk along until she was opposite to her flat. But the going had been rough. There had been a formidable stretch of water to plough through, but fear had lent her speed and she surprised herself by her stamina in making it to the shore.

By the time she heaved herself from the water she was shaking with shock and torn between the need to cry or be sick. But she had made it and she was safe. Stumbling along the beach within the shelter of the high sea wall, she finally reached the stone steps leading on to the promenade, and there across the road was her flat.

A boy with his dog stared at her at the top of the steps and a young couple strolling arm in arm did the same as she hurried by on her way to the flat.

Nora was in the entrance hall when she remembered her shoulder bag. It had gone, and she laughed a trifle hysterically to find that she was still clutching the plastic purse. Her keys were in her bag and she could not get into her flat without them.

The porter in charge of the flats eyed her in comical dismay when she found him.

‘
What did you do?
’
he queried.
‘
Drop your bag in the sea and go in after it?
’

She gulped and decided to play along with him.
‘
Silly of me, wasn
’
t it?
’
with chattering teeth.

‘
Very,
’
he said dryly.
‘
Not to worry, I
’
ll ask a friend of mine to comb the beach later when the tide has gone out. He might find it.
’

She thanked him when he had unlocked her door
and he gave her a friendly smile.

‘
We
’
ll have keys ready for you if your bag isn
’
t found, so don
’
t worry,
’
he said, and bade her good-night.

Nora could only nod her head because her teeth were chattering too much for her to speak. The warm air of her flat met her like open arms and the hot bath purged away all the cold sense of shock. When she was dry she snuggled into a bathrobe and made a hot drink.

Then came all the questions going around in her head like clothes in a tumble-dryer. With her fingers curled around the hot drink and her legs tucked under her in the chair she asked herself why on earth anyone on a strange island would want to harm her. It did not make sense, unless
.
.. could it have been Jony? After all, he was the one who would benefit from the will if anything happened to her.

Nora lay in bed trying to solve the mystery until her eyelids began to droop and sleep claimed her. The peal of her doorbell tore into her unconsciousness with a continued insistence. Whoever it was kept their finger on the bell and was evidently not going away.

Half asleep, she fell out of bed and reached for her wrap, tying it around her as she staggered to the door.

The porter could have waited until morning, if it was him to give her news of her shoulder bag. Five o
’
clock was a bit much to expect her to welcome him with open arms.

But it was not the porter who confronted her, and it was some seconds before her mind began to function. Juan, she thought, looking terribly distraught was pushing back his dark hair with raking fingers.

‘
Thank God!
’
he cried.
‘
Are you all right?
’

‘
Of course I
’
m all right,
’
she answered.
‘
How did you get in? The hall door to the flats is usually locked at night.
’

He said impatiently,
‘
Came in with some late night revellers. Aren
’
t you going to ask me in?
’

‘
At this hour in the morning?
’

‘
I
’
ve got this,
’
he answered, and thrust her shoulder bag at her.
‘
I can
’
t tell you how I felt when I found it. I
’
ve never looked through anything so quick in my life to make sure that it was yours
!
’

Nora took the bag and stepped back.
‘
You
’
d better come in,
’
she said, and followed him into the lounge.
‘
Where did you find it, and how did you know I
’
d lost it?
’

‘
Hell
!
’
he exclaimed, flinging himself into a chair and gesturing with a long brown hand.
‘
How would I know you
’
d lost it? The trouble is that up to five minutes ago I thought you were lost with it. What the devil was it doing in the sea?
’

Nora stood looking down at him with her fingers coiled around the shoulder bag. Suspicions were running around in her head like a demented hornet. She was suspicious of everyone—Jony, Tricia, even Juan, who knew she could swim and who would see no point in pushing her into the water even if he had wanted to. Besides, he looked upset as if he was suffering from shock.

She hesitated, then said in a small voice,
‘
Thank you for the bag. I dropped it into the sea as I was diving in from the pier.
’

Juan looked startled at that.
‘
Diving from the pier with your shoulder bag? What would you be doing that for?
’
A smile that did not reach his eyes lifted the corners of his mouth.
‘
You didn
’
t happen to want to put an end to it all on account of our falling out?
’

‘
Very funny
!
No, I was pushed from the pier.
’

‘
Pushed?
’
he echoed incredulously.
‘
Who would want to push you off the pier? Was it vandals?
’

‘
I don
’
t think so. I never heard a sound, no voices or anything. It was around quarter to ten and the pier was deserted as far as I could see.
’

Instantly he had leapt to his feet to grip her slim shoulders between his hands.

‘
Go on,
’
he commanded.
‘
What happened next? Did you go back to the pier to see who it was?
’

‘
No, I swam to the beach and came back to the flat. I didn
’
t miss my shoulder bag until
I
came to unlock the door.
’

‘
Poor child!
’
He drew her against his chest.
‘
Were you very frightened?
’
He drew in a deep breath.
‘
I
’
d like to get my hands on whoever did it! You don
’
t think it might have been a seagull? They dive-bomb the railway lines along the pier at night with mussels in order to crack them open for food.
’

‘
I don
’
t think so. I only saw one poised on top of one of the lights.
’
Suddenly Nora remembered the little plastic purse.
‘
It was an opening in the guard rail along the pier where I saw this purse. I went nearer to the edge of the space than I would have done normally to pick it up. It was near the edge of the pier as if someone had dropped it. I have it here.
’

Juan took the purse she gave him and examined it in silence.

‘
Meant to lure you to the edge, no doubt,
’
he concluded grimly.
‘
Mind if I keep this?
’

Nora looked at him disliking the confused feeling that close contact with him gave her.

‘
What do you want to keep it for?
’
she asked curiously.

But Juan refused to be drawn.
‘
I might find out who it belonged to,
’
was all he said.

‘
Do you think we ought to tell the police?
’

He shrugged.
‘
What can they do? They
’
ll probably put it down to hooligans on a last-minute romp before the pier closed. No, leave this with me, I
’
ll make a few discreet enquiries.
’
A thought struck him.
‘
Does anyone know about it?
’

‘
The porter of the flats. He thinks I dropped the bag accidentally into the sea. He
’
s promised to send a friend to find the bag for me. It concerns him since I
’
d left my keys to the flat in it. I
’
m so grateful to you for finding it for me.
’

‘
You can tell him that a friend found it for you.
’
He prowled around the lounge, gesturing for her to sit down. Then he draped himself against the frame of the door leading into the kitchen.

‘I’
m going to be around for the next few weeks or so, and I have something to suggest to you. I know it
’
s the wrong time of the day to talk, but we have to do so. How do you feel about going along with the idea that there
’
s something between you and me?
’

‘
You mean pretend we
’
re more than friends?
’

‘
It might help.
’
He unzipped his parka and blew out a tortured breath.
‘
It
’
s warm in here. Doesn
’
t anyone turn the heat off?
’

‘
It is off. I was going to suggest a cup of coffee,
’
Nora added with a smile.

Juan sloughed his jacket.
‘
I
’
d welcome a cup—been to a party. My throat is dry,
’
adding as he caught her wary look,
‘
And it isn
’
t through over-drinking. Everyone today seems to be mad on curry and I hate the stuff.
’