Beware of the Beast (28 page)

Charlotte moved restlessly. "Go on."

“Well, I think he's driving himself too hard. And there's
no need. He employs men to do the worrying for him, and
then takes ever their decisions himself. He's not eating
prop
erty,
I don't know when he takes his rest. And he looks - well
, tired."

Charlotte got up from her chair and paced across the patio,
turning back to stare at him. "Why are you telling me this?"
shee
exclaimed
frustratedly
. "Why don't you tell Alex?"

“
Do you think I haven't?"

"Does he know you’re here?"

“
Yes. He wants
first-hand news of you."

"But - he didn’t ask you to tell me this, did he?"

""
What do you
think?"

Charlotte shook her head. "He wouldn't."

"I won’t argue with that."

She sighed, walking back to her chair. "So why have you told me?"

"You could ask him to come back," replied George
quietly.

Charlotte flushed. "Here?"

"Where else?
It's the only place where he relaxes. No
phones — no communications of any sort. He needs it, Char
lotte. Something's bugging him, and I guess it's you."

Charlotte twisted her hands together. Then she took a deep
breath. "George, Alex doesn't care about me. I don't know
what he's told you about why we got married, but - well, it
wasn't for love."

"I know exactly why you got married," answered George
steadily. "I also knew your father."

Charlotte quivered. "You'll understand then how I feel."

"In a way.
But you don't know the whole truth, do you? Or you might understand Alex better."

Charlotte frowned. "What do you mean?
The
whole
truth?
Of course I know the whole truth. Or I wouldn't be here."

George raised his grey eyebrows. "I doubt it somehow. You
knowing the whole truth, I mean. Alex isn't that kind of man.
He wouldn't tell you. He's too - proud."

"What are you talking about?" Charlotte was getting quite
agitated now. "What don't I know?"
"How well did you know your father?"
"How well did I know my father?" Charlotte frowned
more
 
deeply
.
 
"How well
does
 
any
daughter know her
father?"
     

"No, seriously.
You were away at school a lot, weren't you?
You couldn't possibly have known about his gambling, could
you?"

Charlotte stiffened. "I don't believe my father was a - a
gambler. He played cards, yes. He was unlucky. But so are lots
of people. And they don't all pay with their
lives !"

George shrugged. "Oh, well, if that's the way you feel."

She stared at him helplessly. "
George !
George, you can't
introduce something like this and then just drop it. If you
know something about my father that I don't know, you
should tell me."

"Would you believe me?" George tilted his head to one
side. "You didn't believe Alex, did you?"

Charlotte looked down at her hands. "Alex wanted someone to give him a child with the least possible
effort !"

"If you believe that - if you really believe that..." George
shook his head. "Well, I'm sorry for you, Charlotte, I really
am. I'm sorry for Alex too. I should have thought you'd have
learned by now what manner of man your husband is."

Charlotte blinked. "Then tell
mel
"

"No. It's not up to me to explain Alex's actions. He
wouldn't thank me for it. But some time, I think you should
contact those solicitors of yours in London, and ask them if
they know what happened eight years ago."

The weeks immediately following on George's visit were
he longest Charlotte had spent. In spite of what George had
said, she could not believe that Alex's state of health was in
any way connected with her. If he was driving himself, it
was because he chose to do so, and if he thought of her at all
it was with a sense of impatience that she should have denied
him the use of the island.

All the same, she did worry about him,
waitng
restlessly
for
Vittorio's
next visit so that she might ask him about his
employer.

With regard to George's suggestion about writing to Mr.
Falstaff, her solicitor, she was less decided. How could she
write and demand an explanation for such a strange
statement ?
The only prominent event she could recall from eight years ago was her mother's death, and surely her father had had
nothing to do with that. Unless....
Unless it was her mother's
death which had driven him to the compulsion which had
ultimately caused his death.

Certainly she would speak to Mr. Falstaff when she got back
to London, but she did not feel it was something she could
write about in a letter.

The weather was getting warmer, and now she could spend hours lying in the-sun. Her skin was warmly tanned and it no
longer resented the sun's rays with such sensitivity. She even wore a bathing suit on occasion when she hoped no one else
would see her, although her reflection in the wardrobe mirror
gave her little pleasure. The baby was increasingly active now,
keeping her awake some nights with its kicking and
pum
melling
. But it was increasingly real, too, and she no longer felt entirely alone.

One afternoon at the beginning of May, she decided she
would have to make the effort and go and see
Eleni
. She had
heard nothing from Alex's grandmother since George's visit
when he had paid a call on the old woman. She had not heard
from
Vittorio
either, and she wondered, with a sense of
desperation, whether
Eleni
was in contact with her grandson.

It was several weeks since she had walked so far, but
thankfully a cool breeze fanned her cheeks and prevented her
from feeling too hot.
Eleni
was in her garden, gathering some
herbs, but she looked taken aback when she saw her grand
son's wife.
       

"Charlotte!" she exclaimed. "You shouldn't be walking
here in your condition I"

Charlotte sighed, calling
Suki
and attaching the spaniel
to its lead to leave outside the cottage. "I'm perfectly
fit,
yaya
,"
she answered, following
Eleni
into the
parlour
. "Besides, the
exercise does me good."

Eleni
made no reply, indicating that Charlotte should sit down and ordering Bettina to bring iced fruit juice. Then,
when she was seated, too, she said, "I have been meaning to
come and see you myself. In three weeks the doctor and nurse
arrive, do they not?"

Charlotte nodded. "I suppose so." She shivered, in spite
of the heat of the day. The actual birth was looming closer
now, and she had no one to turn to, no one to assuage her
natural fears and anxieties.

Eleni
folded her hands in her lap. "Will Alex be here when
his child is born?" she asked.
    

Charlotte moved her shoulders in a dismissing gesture. "I
don't know. Will he?"

Eleni
clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Surely you
will want him here
thenl
" she exclaimed. "I can appreciate -
or at least, I am trying to appreciate your dismay at finding
yourself soon to become a mother. Alex told us how you felt
- that you were too young, that he had been careless. But I
am afraid I cannot condone your behaviour these past
months."

Charlotte digested this in silence. So that was what Alex
had told his relatives -
that
she objected to being pregnant! Well, it was
as
 
good
a reason as any, she supposed.

"Have - have you heard from Alex, then?" she ventured,
and
Eleni
regarded her without favour.

"No, I have not. There has been no word since George's departure
. I gather you have not heard anything either."

Charlotte shook her head. "I - George said Alex was work
ing too hard. I wondered if he had said anything to you."

"I know my grandson, Charlotte. He is driving himself
because he is unhappy. And you are the cause of that unhappines
s! No -
" This
as Charlotte would have protested. "Let me finish
! When he told me he was getting married at last, I
was delighted. Since his parents' death, he has been alone too
much. I was doubtful when I learned how young you were,
but
it was obvious that Alex was in love with you, otherwise
why would he have waited so long?"

“W
aited - so - long?" Charlotte made a confused gesture.
"What
do
you
mean?"

"Oh, I don't want to talk about it any more. It makes me
too angry,”
muttered
Eleni
sharply. "Here is Bettina with our
orange
juice.
Let
us talk of less provocative matters."

Charlotte refused
Eleni's
offer of
Yanni
to take her home.
The idea,
of jotting along in the cart did not appeal to her,
and the
cooler air of late afternoon was very invigorating.

As
she
-walked, watching
Suki
scampering ahead of her, she
thought about what
Eleni
had said. What had Alex's grand
mother meant about him waiting so long? Unless it was that
she
meant before taking
himself
a wife. What else could she
mean,
after all? She had not even heard of Alex Faulkner
unti
eight months ago.

Charlotte was exhausted when she reached the villa, and
refusing Maria's offer of tea, she went straight to her bedroom.
It was
marvellous
to kick off her sandals and lie back against
the soft pillows, feeling the aching muscles of her back be
ginning to relax. The shadows lengthened in the room, and
she dosed hex eyes, falling into a deep exhausted slumber.

She awakened to a darkened room, and a distinctly un
comfortable sensation in the small of her back. Reaching
across the bed, she turned on the lamp, and saw it was after ten o'clock. Maria must have decided not to wake her for
dinner, but the old servant would not yet be in bed, and
Charlotte longed for a cup of tea. Swinging her legs to the floor, she stood up, slipping her feet into her sandals. Her
back still ached from the afternoon's exertions, but apart from
that she felt very well.

When she opened the bedroom door, she saw a light was
still burning in the hall, and as she walked along the corridor
and down the steps, she saw the lounge lights were still
burning, too. Frowning, she approached the doorway. It was
not like Maria to leave lights wasting. Then she caught her
breath.

Alex was sitting in the middle of one of the skin-covered couches, his elbows resting on his knees, his head buried in
his hands. He was still wearing the clothes he must have
arrived in, dark suit, white shirt, his tie hanging loosely.

Charlotte hovered at the doorway, undecided what to do.
And then he looked up and saw her, and a strange expression
crossed his dark face. The intentness of his gaze, the way his
eyes appraised her, made her glad she was wearing the
honey-
coloured
shift which Sophia had cleverly adapted for
her from one of her ordinary dresses. Sophia was clever with
her fingers, and since she had had to accept Charlotte's
presence at the villa now that she was pregnant, she had
become very useful in that way.
Eleni
had been right about her
at least.