The Desert Castle (14 page)

T
here were stones beside the road telling than when they had descended to sea level, a hundred metres below, two hundred, and lastly three hundred metres below the Mediterranean. A faint shimmer veiled the further bank, blurring the geographical features and the dark splodges that might have been merchant ships, loading and unloading their cargoes.

T
he waters of the Dead Sea were not as still as Marion had expected. Gregory drove into what looked like an amusement park which, abandoned for the most of the week, was full of people from Amman, making the most of the Moslem day of rest. Even so, the stony beach was emptier than it would have been anywhere in Europe, and there was plenty of room for Marion to lack off her shoes and walk along the edge of the warm water, marvelling that it should feel more like oil than water against her bare skin. The sun beat down on them, hotter than she would have believed possible, and after a while, the surrounding peace seeped into her troubled spirit and she felt quite content to allow events to take their own course without kicking too hard against the pricks. Denise was not yet installed in
the Castle of the Cisterns, and nor was anyone else!

M
arion began to look for pebbles that
she
thought would polish well. It had long been a hobby of her mother
’
s, turning out polished stones as pieces of modern jewellery and selling them at local Oxfam bazaars and other such functions. There were several pebbles that she thought would come up well, some in a very pretty green colour and others of a marbled brown.

G
regory
smiled
down at her intent face as she searched, dipping her hands through the lazy, breaking waves that just covered her feet.

‘
For your mother
?
’
he asked.

S
he sat back on her heels.
‘
How did you know
?
’
she demanded.

‘
She told me she had made that barbaric necklace you were wearing at that evening class of yours.
’

T
he beginnings of a frown appeared between her eyes. What a cosy gossip they must have had about her even to have discussed the details of what she had been wearing!

‘
Yes, she did,
’
she said.

G
regory spread himself full length on the pebbles and shut his eyes.
‘
If you didn
’
t want it to be noticed you shouldn
’
t wear it,
’
he pointed out reasonably enough.

I
t wasn
’
t the necklace, it was what else he might have noticed that bothered her. She was beginning to think that nothing escaped those sharp eyes of his.

‘
It would look better on Denise—
’

H
e came to life with a speed that rooted her to the spot. His long arms scooped her up from the edge of the water and deposited her beside him, high and dry on the beach.

‘
I
told you what would happen if you mentioned her name this afternoon!
’
he threatened her. To her astonished ears he sounded as though he were very much enjoying himself. She struggled upwards into a sitting position and smoothed down her skirt with an agitated
hand.
‘
Well
?’
he said.

‘
I
’
m going back to the car,
’
she muttered.

‘
Don
’
t you like it here
?
’
he teased her, his fingers brushing the white salt from the sea from the backs of her
hands.

‘
I did, but you
’
ve spoilt it,
’
she said baldly.
‘
I don
’
t like being pounced on
!
’

H
e sat up too and raised her hands to his lips, kissing them lightly before he released her completely.

‘
I
’
m sorry, love.
’
He stood up.
‘
Come on, I
’
ll take you home.
’

S
h
e was caught between relief and a
s
harp disappointment that he should take her at her word. She trailed after him back down the beach, hardly noticing the hard pebbles beneath her feet
.

‘
Gregory,
’
she called after
him.
‘
I was wrong. I didn
’
t mean—
’

H
e waited for her to catch up with
him.
‘
But yo
u
don
’
t trust me either, do you, Marion
?’

W
as it him or herself she didn
’
t trust? She didn
’
t know. But she didn
’
t want to quarrel with
him
either. For some reason that hurt her to the quick.

‘
Please, Gregory,
’
she said,
‘
don
’
t make things more difficult
!
’

H
e touched her cheek with a gentle hand, but the harshness stayed in his eyes as he looked down at her.
‘
You
’
re making it difficult for yourself,
’
he told her.
‘
Real life isn
’
t a dream, or a picture on a wall, my dear. You have to take the rough with the smooth, and sometimes it
’
s the rough that makes the whole
thing
worthwhile in the end.
’

‘
You mean that texture is as important as colour?
’
she hazarded.

H
e shrugged his shoulders.
‘
Something like that
.
You can spoil things for me too, more easily
than
you know. Men have their dreams too—
’

Y
e
s, someone like Denise! She already knew that! She put up her hand and caught his in hers, pulling
it
away from her face.

‘
Then you ought to know better than to make use of substitutes
!
’
she lambasted him.
‘
It
never
works! Even I can tell you that
!
’

‘
Where on earth have you been
?
’

M
arion hoped Gregory hadn
’
t noticed the sulky note in Denise
’
s voice. The French girl had worked herself into a fine rage and was looking very handsome as she faced her host across the width of the drawing-room.

‘
Does it matter
?
’
Gregory returned the question. If Denise were wise, Marion thought with a shiver, she would drop the subject for tonight at least. Grego
r
y was in no mood to be questioned by anyone about his movements or anything else. Marion was still smarting from his scathing comments on her well-meant attempt to tell him that
she
understood
he
was using her as an understudy for
his
real leading lady, but that she couldn
’
t approve of
his
desire to rehearse what she felt was already a perfect performance.

‘
I
thought you were going to
work
!
’
Denise went on, her voice raw and ugly.
‘
You deliberately tricked me into going to Jaresh with Gaston and Lucasta. You know I
’
d never have gone if I thought you—
’

‘
I
’
m not interested,
’
Gregory cut her off.

D
enise crossed the room at a run, throwing herself against his broad chest
.
Marion shut her eyes and tried to pretend that the searing pain within her was not jealousy because she would never have the courage to make such a move towards Gregory herself. She turned her back on them and walked slowly down the corridor towards her bedroom. Denise obviously knew how to handle her man. She wouldn
’
t panic when he kissed her, but then she would know that it meant something between them, that it wasn
’
t just a game that men and women play to pass the time until the right, the one and only, partner came along.

T
here was someone in her room. Marion paused at
the threshold, schooling herself to face Lucasta and to hear all about her day out with Gaston. But when she opened the door it was not Lucasta but Zein who was waiting for her, standing motionless in the middle of the floor. There was no indication as to how long she had been there, but she looked up and smiled when Marion came in, bursting into voluble speech and pointing towards the wall and the little
houri
Marion had spent the morning painstakingly cleaning.

M
arion shook her head, trying to get across to the Bedu girl that she couldn
’
t understand a word she was saying. Zein babbled happily on, leading Marion towards the dressing-table and the looking glass that stood on it
w
ith a gesture of triumph she pointed towards Marion
’
s reflection in the glass and then at the
houri
on the wall. Her excitement knew no bounds and, after a few moments, Marion understood why. No wonder the
houri
had had a familiar look to her. She could well have been a portrait of Marion herself!

CHAPTER VI

Lucasta was speaking. She was bored without Gaston
’
s company and although she suspected that Marion was equally bored with hearing about him it was the only subject that interested her at the moment.

‘
Denise would have spoilt everything if she could. That was a dirty trick of that uncle of mine to send her off with us. Well, we
’
ve made jolly sure that it doesn
’
t happen next week-end! Gregory is going to her place on the express invitation of her father. Gaston saw to that
!
’

Marion frowned at the wall in front of her. It was ridiculous to go to pieces just because he was going away. If she were going to live with herself at all, she would have to do better than that!

‘
But Gaston is coming here
?
’
she
managed to ask.

Lucasta half-closed her eyes, an expression of bliss on her face.
‘
I shall have him to myself for three whole days
!
’

Marion made a great effort and put her own problems to the back of her mind while she tried to face up to her responsibilities where her charge was concerned. If anyone had gone with Gaston and Lucasta to Jaresh the week-end before it should have been her. She ought to have made it her business to have found out a great deal more about this young French engineer, no matter what Gregory had said. She stopped what she was doing and turned round to face Lucasta.

‘
How much do you like this Gaston
?
’
she asked her.

Lucasta was startled into opening her eyes wide.
‘
Very much. Well, not liking exactly.
’
She smiled up at Marion, looking very like her uncle.
‘
He sends me more than any man I
’
ve ever met! It
’
s much more fun than I had supposed to be the object of someone
’
s devotion. He
’
s
sweet
!
’

‘
Then it isn
’
t serious
?
’
Marion said with relief.

‘
Of course it
’
s serious! Only I haven
’
t
made
up my mind yet exactly how serious
.
’