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‘I’ve waited five months to see you. No doubt I’ll survive another hour,’ he said. ‘I’ll pick you up later.’ Minella stared at the door after he had gone, and felt dizzy. She was tingling with excitement, her eyes shining, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so lightheaded. She would have to calm down. The lunch date would be a very civilised meeting between two people who had once been thrown together by a strange twist of fate, and after the reminiscences were done they would go their separate ways again. It would be wrong to read anything else into Sam’s visit, although he had sounded genuinely anxious to find her.

Two people came in the shop with the declared intention of browsing. She left them to it and was surprised when they actually bought an expensive paperweight. Things were looking up! When they had gone she hugged herself, bubbling over with anticipation, and she kept repeating Sam’s name out loud just to make sure she hadn’t dreamt he’d come.

A grandfather clock ticked with monotonous precision, its deep tone drumming in her ears at half the speed of her heartbeats, and each minute seemed longer than the last. An hour had never gone so slowly.

He was there promptly at one, at the wheel of a large hired car.

The grey suit gave him an elegant, citified appearance she found hard to associate with him, and she was glad she had worn something suitable for lunch with this impressive stranger. She would behave with the utmost decorum, not a word out of place, and he would see the difference in her. The girl on the island had been only a . creature of circumstance.

She locked the shop door, put the key away safely and tucked the black suede clutch bag under her arm. Her hair had been styled only yesterday and flicked away from her face with flattering highlights. Carefully applied eye make-up emphasised the size and soft colour of her eyes, and the colour on her cheeks contoured her lovely oval face, making it glow with fresh beauty on that cold wintry day. The high heels of her suede boots completed her feeling of confidence, and when Sam got out of the car and opened the door on the other side for her, as he had once done for Consuelo, Minella knew she had passed the test.

He took her to the hotel where he was staying, one of the largest along the sea-front, and invited her to choose from the sumptuous menu, which she did with aplomb. The wine was his choice, and he touched her glass with his in formal greeting, his eyes registering approval of her at the opposite side of the table. They were sitting by the window and the only colour outside came from umbrellas tilted against the heavy sea mist.

‘You must find it cold here after Fayal,’ she said. ‘Are you planning to stay long?’

‘I hope to be back there for Christmas, if everything turns out as I want it to.’

‘You’re here on business, then?’

He hesitated. ‘You could say that.’

Over lunch they talked of mundane things, stilted conversation which led nowhere, and disillusionment began to set in. Minella didn’t particularly like this other Sam Stafford who knew his way around and had waiters hovering over him, taking orders which he gave with autocratic detachment. He treated Minella with deference, giving her his full attention, yet there was something illusive about him, a watchfulness she didn’t understand, and she felt she wanted to shake him out of it.

‘Tell me,’ she said, when polite trivialities were almost exhausted, ‘how is Vasco Hernandez?’

Sam’s lips twitched into a smile she recognised at last. ‘He’s very well. In fact he’s getting married quite soon to a local girl Benita found to help with her father.’ He paused, eyeing her quizzically. ‘Perhaps it’s just as well you dashed his hopes, Minella. He certainly wouldn’t know how to cope with the sophisticated young woman I’m having the pleasure of entertaining right now.’

She wondered if he was teasing, but there was no hint of it, and she realised he was finding this meeting equally difficult. The old familiarity was behind them and both were confronted with new images they hadn’t expected. It gave her satisfaction to know he respected it, but she sighed for the battles she had dared to wage with him in the past.

‘I owe you an apology, Minella,’ he went on. ‘Vasco told me the truth about that day he locked you in the hut.’ He smiled broadly and his eyes shone with amusement. ‘I must say I’d have been inclined to do the same if you’d asked me to take you to a deserted cottage and it turned out you only wanted to see a picture.’

‘So you know about that,’ she said warily.

He became serious again. ‘Why didn’t you ask me about it?’ he wanted to know.

He had put her in a spot. She wasn’t sure how much to admit to knowing without involving them in discussion about Annette that might infringe on the present. She preferred to know nothing about his intentions in that direction.

‘Vasco saw Annette and recognised the portrait,’ she said. ‘All I wanted to do was confirm that he was right.

I hadn’t realised you and Annette had known each other previously. It was rather a shock.’

‘I’m sure it was,’ said Sam. He was looking at her keenly. ‘It was a shock to me when she arrived at the airport, and she had the advantage. She’d already guessed it was me when she heard my name before she came to Fayal, but she begged me not to let on. It was silly of her. There was no reason why Greg shouldn’t know we were once engaged. It happened a long time ago, and wouldn’t make any difference to her marriage. Greg is far too sensible, but that’s the way she wanted it.’

‘And you still love her,’ said Minella.

His glance became withering. ‘My dear girl, what Annette and I feel for each other now is affection for old times’ sake. I admit I was hypnotised when I first saw her, but it meant nothing. I’m afraid I let her down badly in the past and I’m not proud of it, but thank goodness she found it in her heart to forgive me.’ Minella looked out of the window at a group of people jumping down one at a time on to the beach and running down to the sea, regardless of the weather. It felt wrong being here in this luxury hotel with Sam. Neither of them belonged in this setting, no matter how conforming they appeared to be on the surface. His hands were better suited to the wheel of his powerboat than to the elegant silver cutlery. She had a brief mental picture of him in the cockpit of the
Samanne
, the wind tearing through his hair, billowing his open-necked shirt, and a surge of reawakened excitement stirred her blood.

‘That portrait of Annette was the best painting you’ve ever done,’ she said. ‘You must have loved her very much when you did it. How could you possibly walk out on her?’

He gave an unexpected hoot of laughter and tipped back his chair. The waiter collected their dishes before bringing the sweet trolley, and precious minutes passed before she found out why he found it funny.

‘Oh, Minella,’ he said, now leaning towards her, ‘I didn’t paint that picture. My mother did, and she was rather a famous portrait painter. I value it greatly, as much for its artistic merit as anything.’ He paused. Then: ‘I only once did anything resembling a portrait. It was of you, the morning I carried you like a drowned bird up to Henrique Porva’s. I wanted to capture that moment. One day I’ll show it to you.’

Something in his voice made her catch her breath, an intimacy she hadn’t heard before, and it was like music. One day, he had said. He was hoping to see her again after this rather impersonal reunion, but she was aware of a certain trepidation. He was feeling his way carefully, as if unsure of her, and it gave her confidence because he had never chosen his words with her before. But if their friendship was to develop they had to be • honest with each other.

‘Sam,’ she said slowly, looking down at the cloth where fine crumbs were scattered. ‘I found something else that day when I saw the portrait. It fell when I was getting it from the shelf and the back came loose. There was a newspaper cutting about you tucked inside.’

He was a long time replying, and she glanced up anxiously. His eyes were clouded with memories and she could see that for some reason they were painful. She almost wished she’d said nothing, but it was silly to go on pretending ignorance.

‘I guessed you’d read it,’ he said, ‘and I’m glad you did. I thought perhaps Annette might have told you something about me, but I don’t think she likes to remember I always put my job first.’ He poured more wine. ‘My work came before everything, Minella, and I couldn’t really consider marriage while I was involved with danger and I kept putting it off. Then came the famous shooting incident and I copped it in the knee. They were going to have to amputate, but thank God I was spared that. The only trouble was I was told then that I was medically unfit to carry on with my original task and it had to be a desk job or nothing. I went to pieces. I’d always lived by my strength and my wits, and I couldn’t face a static indoor existence, nor would my pride let me turn to Annette for help. I can see now I didn’t love her enough. So I packed it all in, made a clean break and started afresh out in the Azores, determined to prove that I was still fit for anything. I took up bull-chasing because it was the most strenuous exercise I could find and I proved my strength was in no way diminished. I think at the back of my mind I eventually intended to apply for my old job again, but somehow the magic of the islands took over. It’s a long time now since I hankered after the kind of excitement I used to know. I wouldn’t go back now.’

Minella said nothing for a moment. He was looking at her closely, as if afraid she would challenge his decision, but nothing was further from her thoughts.

Then she said: ‘I’m glad, Sam. I don’t think I’d be happy knowing you’d taken up police work again.’

He relaxed visibly and a smile crept to the corners of his mouth again. ‘There’s no fear of it, I assure you. I’ve too many plans to work on when I get home to Fayal. Do you want to hear about them?’

‘Yes, I do,’ said Minella.

‘Then let’s get out of here.’

He signalled to the waiter, had the lunch charged to his account, and helped her on with the trench coat she had had the sense to bring with her. When they were outside on the hotel steps he stretched his neck uncomfortably and pulled at his tie.

‘Do you mind if I take this damned thing off? It’s nearly choking me!’

She laughed. ‘I wish you would. It doesn’t look right.’

With his shirt open at the neck he looked more like the man she loved, and she wished she dared slip her hand into his, but he was still a rather formidable figure, his height and good looks making him conspicuous enough for people to stare.

The mist was patchy now and a watery sun attempted to disperse it altogether but hadn’t the strength. They crossed over to the promenade and crunched through shingle thrown up by an exceptionally high tide, and without either saying a word they sought the beach at the first access point. It was low tide.

‘What are you doing this evening, Minella?’ Sam called, as she darted ahead of him and climbed on to a low breakwater with tomboyish disregard for her clothes.

‘I usually curl up with a good book,’ she said.

‘No special boy-friend that I don’t know about?’

‘None.’

She balanced on the slippery wood like a tightrope walker, handbag held aloft, and gazed out to sea with a strange wistfulness, as if her destiny was held in those grey rolling breakers. And then she smiled to herself. The sea had once swept her literally into Sam Stafford’s arms. No wonder it brought nostalgia! She watched him pick up a stone and send it skimming across the water. He was the most wonderful, exciting man in all the world and she would never tire of feasting her eyes on him, but she could have cried at her own inadequacy. He was fond of her. He might even have had a sentimental wish to see her again while he was in England, but nothing more. She mustn’t kid herself. But the sudden aching longing for him was worse than anything she had ever known and she closed her eyes momentarily against the pain. It was in that second she lost her balance. She hadn’t realised she had gone too far along the breakwater until she landed in the waves with a frantic yell. Fortunately she was still upright, but the water reached her knees and she could feel the pull of the receding tide.

And all Sam Stafford did was laugh.

‘Sam! Get me out of here!' she cried, struggling against the suction of the shingle and getting more and more wet. ‘Damn you, Sam, don’t just stand there!’

Still roaring with laughter, he waited until she was near enough to grasp his outstretched hand, then jerked her clear of the water, and into his arms.

‘Oh, Minella, my darling little Sparrow, that’s the best thing that’s happened today,’ he told her.

She was shaking with temper because he found it so funny, and pummelled his chest with her fists.

‘I don’t know why you should think so. The water was freezing cold, and I’ve ruined my boots!’

‘But it’s proved you’re the same scatterbrained girl I fell in love with. I was so afraid she’d been replaced by a gorgeous young career woman who would never put a foot wrong.’

‘I am
not
a scatterbrain!’ she protested loudly—then checked herself, convinced she hadn’t heard him right. Her heart juggled with so many overwhelming emotions at once she felt sure he must hear the commotion it made, and she took a gulping breath. ‘What did you say?’

He looked down at her, his eyes caressing every line of her face.

‘I love you,’ he said, very gently.

Her eyes widened with incredulous joy. ‘Oh, Sam, I love you too!’

The simple declaration hung between them, spreading radiance with the blissful discovery; happiness so deep that further words were unnecessary. Time seemed suspended, and the sound of the breakers on the sand behind her was an orchestral accompaniment to the rapid beating of her heart. Then Sam kissed her. The touch of his mouth on hers was a sweetness so disturbing she seemed to merge as part of him.

‘I knew you belonged to me from the moment I picked you up and held you in my arms,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve never been so strangely affected by anything, and I was afraid to take you to my house because I knew somehow that you were going to change my life. It was as if I’d been waiting for you since the day I was born. I can’t explain. These months away from you have been unbearable, but I had to give you time to recover from all you’d been through. I couldn’t expect you to decide anything rationally while you were still on the island. It wouldn’t have been fair.’