The Mermaid Garden (23 page)

The scents of the garden were intensified by the dew, and he was re-

minded of the midnight walks he used to take as a younger man across

the pampa. As his mind delved deeper into his past he felt the sharp

pain of longing pull at his heart.

When Rafa was a small boy, Lorenzo was already an old man in his

sixties. His other children were all grown up, and his wife worried that he no longer had the patience or the energy to endure the constant

demands of a small child. But little by little Rafa had won him over

with his enthusiasm and curiosity, following him around the farm like

a worshipful dog. When his older children were small, Lorenzo had

been too busy to indulge them, but in his old age he had found to his

delight that he had all the time in the world to indulge his youngest.

He taught him how to ride and took him on long excursions across the

pampa, telling him about the history of the land and his own childhood

in Italy. He taught him to play cards and to smile when he lost, and at night, by the warm light of the fire, they’d sit on the grass with the other gauchos and sing songs while Lorenzo strummed his guitar. The old

man relished having one child to dote on instead of four, and he spoiled him with the indulgence of a man who has little else in his life to afford him pleasure.

Rafa had loved those times, alone with his father, a gruff bear of a

man with the quiet, gentle nature of a hound. How he missed him.

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13.

Marina hadn’t suffered nightmares for many years, not since she

first settled into married life. But that night she awoke in a sweat,

her heart throbbing frantically against her rib cage, her throat choked with sobs. She sat up and clutched her bosom, slowly returning to the

present and her bed, where Grey lay sleeping peacefully beside her.

She reached over to her bedside table and picked up the glass of water.

With a trembling hand she brought it to her lips. Gradually, her pulse

slowed down and her heart stopped pounding. She took a deep breath

and wiped her face. Yet the sadness that dream provoked hung over her

like a shroud.

She climbed out of bed and walked unsteadily to the closet where

she kept her clothes. Taking care not to make a sound, she opened the

door and reached into the very back of the top shelf, where a shoe box

lay hidden against the wall, behind her sweaters. She hadn’t taken it out for years, even though it emanated a strange kind of magnetism whenever she opened her cupboard, to remind her of its presence.

With the box safely tucked against her chest she tiptoed into the

bathroom and locked the door. She switched on the light and winced

at the brightness. Slowly, she went over to the lavatory, replaced the

lid, and sat down. She remained still, staring at the box with its simple white lid until her eyes stung. It looked like a little coffin, so pure and unblemished. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface, and her tears fell heavy and fast. Her heart contracted with dread until it was a little nugget, like a cold stone.

She dreaded what the box contained, although she was as familiar

with its contents as she was with her own pain. Her breathing grew la-

bored and she cried out, muffling her sob against her hand. She closed

her eyes and quietly wept. It didn’t matter whether or not she opened it, for it would always be there to remind her of her error. And if she threw 30067 The Mermaid Garden.indd 139

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the box away? The memories would still be there, indelibly marked

upon her soul, to resurface in night terrors to remind her of her guilt.

Only God knew how much she suffered.

She remained in the bathroom until her heartbeat slowed again and

her grief subsided. Then she replaced the box in the far corner of her

wardrobe and went back to bed.

Grey rolled over and pulled her close. “Are you all right, darling?” he whispered sleepily.

“I am now,” she replied, snuggling into his embrace.

“Not that dream again?”

“Yes, but it’s gone now.” It had been years since that recurring night-

mare had stalked her sleep. He kissed her head and she closed her eyes, knowing she could drift off safe in the knowledge that it wouldn’t come back tonight.

The following morning Harvey appeared in her kitchen with a big

smile, and Marina had to restrain herself from throwing her arms

around him like a child.

“Oh, Harvey, I’m so pleased you’re back. We missed you.”

Harvey looked at her, concerned. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. But Rafa arrived yesterday and my old ladies arrive today, and

Grey wanted you to help him with something. He left early to go fish-

ing, so I can’t ask him what it was. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Why don’t you have a cup of tea and talk to me while I have breakfast? Bertha will be arriving soon and then I’ll have to leave.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, “You mean the Workaholic?”

Marina laughed. “Wonderful name for her.”

“Never seen anyone move so fast from room to room.”

“If only.”

“I bet the minute you’re gone, she settles down, makes herself a cup

of tea, and reads the papers.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t dare.”

“That’s what she wants you to think.” He pulled out a chair, and Ma-

rina poured boiling water from the kettle into a mug. She knew how he

liked it: Earl Grey with a large spoonful of honey. As she handed it to 30067 The Mermaid Garden.indd 140

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him her battered heart recovered a little. She watched him take it, his big hand rough and lined like the bark of an old oak tree.

She sat down opposite and poured herself another cup of coffee. He

looked at her with kind eyes. “So, what’s up, then?”

“Besides the robbery?”

“I know, I heard. He’s running rings around the police.”

“No leads. Nothing. It seems unbelievable in this day and age, with

forensics and all the technology at their disposal, that they can’t find something.”

“They must have had a lot of silver in their dining room to make it

worth the robber’s while to break in and steal it.”

“At least didn’t explore further. Think of all those paintings.”

“I imagine he knew what he wanted. Silver is easy to sell.”

“Has it come out in the papers?”

“Haven’t read them yet. I have my mole in the police force.”

“Same one as Jake’s mole, I suspect. He doesn’t waste any time in

telling everyone, does he? Probably tells the local paper, too.”

“I think he enjoys being in the know.”

“And showing off to anyone who’ll listen. No wonder they can’t

catch him, they’re too busy gossiping.”

“So, how’s the artist settling in?”

Marina’s face lit up at the mention of Rafa. “He’s charming. A posi-

tive, happy presence to have around the hotel, just like you.” Harvey

grinned over his tea cup. “He’s nice to everyone, you know. Jennifer and Rose are on cloud nine because he takes trouble with them and everyone seems happier. It’s as if he has sprinkled fairy dust over the place.

I sense he’s going to make a real difference here.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“I don’t think Jake likes him, though.”

“Really?”

“The green-eyed monster.”

“Ah,” said Harvey, knowingly.

“Sometimes Jake’s very immature. But Clemmie thinks Rafa is won-

derful.”

“That’s good.”

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“The trouble is, she’s rather obvious about it.”

“He probably doesn’t notice. Men notice less than you think.”

“I don’t know. But he’s a grown-up. I’m sure he’ll take it in his stride.”

She looked uneasy.

“You don’t want her to get hurt.”

“She’s never really been in love before. She’s had boyfriends.” Ma-

rina pulled a face. “Lots of boyfriends. But she’s never loved.”

“You think she’s going to fall in love with Rafa?”

“Almost certainly. I fear she’s going to get hurt.”

“It might be a perfect match.”

“I don’t think so. He lives on the other side of the world, and he’s

almost too handsome for his own good. He must be used to girls fall-

ing in love with him.” She lowered her eyes and frowned. “I don’t trust beautiful men when it comes to love.”

“But you like Rafa.”

“Yes, I like him very much. I’m just being silly.”

“No, you’re not. You’re being a good stepmother.” She looked at him,

now smiling at her with such affection, and felt her throat tighten for no reason at all.

“Thank you, Harvey. You know I only want what’s best for her.”

“I know you do.”

The front door opened, bringing in a gust of wind and Bertha.

“Goodness me, it’s blustery this morning.”

“Time to go over to the hotel,” said Marina to Harvey as Bertha

made her way across the hall towards the kitchen. They both drained

their cups. A cloud of Anaï Anaï wafted in on the draft, then Bertha

filled the doorway, her large body squeezed into a yellow floral tent

dress. Marina put down her coffee cup and stared in horror, while Har-

vey was unable to take his eyes off her. The yellow fabric fell straight from the neck edge to her ankles, which stuck out of the hem like two

uncooked sausages. Her feet were squeezed into gold pumps. Marina

blinked at her, lost for words.

“Don’t say you don’t like it,” said Bertha, unfazed. “I’ve spent all

morning trying to zip it up.”

“You look very bright,” said Harvey. He stood up and replaced his

cap. “I need my sunglasses to look at you.”

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“I felt positive this morning.”

“That’s good,” said Harvey. “Perhaps you’ll put some of that positiv-

ity into your work.”

“You know me, forever the perfectionist.” She dropped her handbag

onto one of the kitchen chairs. “I think I’ll make myself a cuppa.”Harvey caught Marina’s eye and raised an eyebrow. “Anything special you need

me to do today?” She directed her question at Marina.

“Um, no. I mean, no, nothing special.”

“Who’s going to clean the artist’s room, then?”

“I don’t know. It’s up to Jake.”

“Well, if you want it done properly, you know you can count

on me.”

“Thank you, Bertha.” Marina made for the door.

“Have a word with Jake. Perhaps he can assign me to that room for

the summer.” She bustled over to the kettle and thrust it under the tap.

“I wouldn’t necessarily trust those silly housemaids to do a good job.

He’s a handsome lad, and they might get into trouble.” She gave Ma-

rina a meaningful look. “You know what young girls are like. Much too

free with their loins.”

Harvey and Marina crossed the gravel to the hotel, laughing to-

gether at the absurdity of the woman.

“I didn’t know they made dresses that size,” said Marina. “Or that

shape. I dread to think what the rest of my staff are wearing. Has everyone gone mad?”

They entered the hotel to find Rose and Jennifer on reception. There

was nothing unusual about their clothes, but they had certainly applied their makeup with more care than usual.

“He’s in the dining room,” said Jennifer, as Marina swept in.

“Good.”

“He’s sitting with the brigadier.”

Marina looked worried. “Oh, okay.”

“He’ll love the old brigadier,” said Harvey as they walked on through

the hall. “They don’t make them like that in Argentina.”

“What do you know of Argentina, Harvey?” Marina laughed.

“That they don’t make men like the brigadier.”

Rafa was indeed sitting at the brigadier’s usual table by the window.

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They were deep in conversation. When the two men saw Marina ap-

proach, they got to their feet to greet her.

“Please don’t get up,” she said, watching the brigadier, who had only

just managed to lift his bottom off the chair, drop back into it. “So, you two have met.”

“Fascinating young man,” enthused the brigadier. “His father fought

in the war, for the other side.”

“Then he migrated to Argentina to forget about it,” Rafa added.

“I don’t want to forget about it. The day I forget about it they might

as well bury me in the ground. Best days of my life.”

“No, your life is good now,” said Rafa.

“Not as good as the past, young man,” chuckled the brigadier a little

sadly.

“But the past is just memory, the future just anticipation; the only

reality is now.” Rafa looked around the room. “And here you are in

a beautiful place, eating a delicious breakfast. There’s not a lot wrong about that.”

“Is it bad to dream?” Marina asked.

“Of course not, as long as your desires don’t make you unhappy.”

“I gave up all my pipe dreams when I was no longer young enough to

smoke them. Now I just smoke conventional tobacco,” said the briga-

dier.“You’re young in your heart,” said Rafa kindly.

“This old heart. Nothing made it beat more surely than the sound of

gunfire and the smell of battle.” He raised his rheumy eyes and gave a

little sniff. “Or the pretty face of my girl.”

Rafa sensed that his girl was up there with his father and looked on

the brigadier’s wistful face with empathy. “You know, she’s still here,”