`I do mind,' he said abruptly. 'Everyone should learn to swim. Particularly on these islands. It can make the difference between life and death. I'll teach you.'
It was not a suggestion but an order, and a surprised Melanie watched his tall lithe figure in swimming trunks stride away from her towards Celia, and a few minutes later saw them take to the water together.
So far, Melanie was not having a very restful morning. She felt vaguely uneasy at the change in Julian's attitude towards her, which smacked of male
domination over his charges, and this was a new experience for her, for she had been mistress of her own destiny for many years. She wasn't too sure that she appreciated this situation, well meant or otherwise!
At that moment, her all-too-short period of peace was shattered by the arrival of a grossly fat woman, followed by a meek-looking maid who placed her lounger beside Melanie's at the woman's imperative bidding. Then the woman settled down to engage Melanie in conversation.
This sudden invasion of her territory was startling enough to Melanie without finding herself bemusedly staring at the woman's apparel, for she wore a black lacy dress complete with a diamond choker—aptly named in this case, as the folds of her triple chins almost hid the sparkling jewels, and, as if this weren't enough, rings and bracelets to match. In fact, she looked like a walking bank, and a fascinated Melanie found herself wondering if she had a tiara on under that huge sun-hat she was wearing!
`I'm Lydia Hounslow Holmes,' said the woman in a deep, gruff voice, holding out a fat, heavily ringed hand towards Melanie. 'I understand you're the new Mrs Cridell.'
Melanie swallowed back an urge to giggle at the unorthodox introduction, and, managing to quell her amusement, took the proffered hand. 'How do you do?' she said politely, then found herself undergoing a hard, cynical examination.
Hmph! Not what I would call Julian's taste at all,' the woman murmured, half to herself. 'Looks more like a games teacher to me.'
Melanie again felt that awful urge to laugh. Really, the woman was eccentric!
`Not much to say for yourself, have you?' Mrs Hounslow Holmes commented. `Daresay you'll do. Don't take any notice of the cats around here. Been holding out for Cridell for years. Met Zara yet?' she suddenly flung out at Melanie, who recovered in time to realise that she was referring to Julian's ex-wife.
`Er—no,' she got out, wondering just who this imperious old woman was.
`You will!' the old lady commented with what Melanie felt was a certain amount of pleasurable anticipation. 'Just remember to duck if she's anywhere near a moveable object,' she added, chuckling hugely at this unasked-for advice,then she turned to the maid, still hovering in the background, who assisted her off the lounger with well-practised ease. Leaving the utterly bemused Melanie gazing after them, as the small procession made their regal way back to the hotel.
She was still gazing after them when Julian and Celia rejoined her, and Julian, his eyes following Melanie's, asked acrimoniously, 'What did that old devil want?'
Melanie blinked. She had still not recovered. 'Oh, she just wanted to meet me—I think,' she added doubtfully.
Julian started to dry himself with his towel, and flung Celia's towel to her. 'No doubt,' he said ironically. 'She's the island gossip. You'll have to watch out for her in future,' he added meaningly.
That wasn't all she had to watch out for, Melanie thought sardonically, recalling the old woman's comments on his ex-wife!
`Well, she lost out this time,' said Celia, throwing her towel down after drying herself, and flinging herself down next to Melanie. 'Mrs Winsome beat her
to it. She couldn't get back to the hotel fast enough,' she added with a chuckle.
Julian dropped his towel back on the sand and settled down the other side of Melanie, making her in some odd way feel surrounded. 'They've not much more to do,' he said, glancing up at Melanie in an almost apologetic way. 'Too much leisure and money to go with it.'
Vas the Duchess wearing her jewels?' Celia asked. `Not that I could imagine her without them,' she mused, as she searched in her beach bag for some suntan lotion, which she then started to apply to her arms and legs.
Melanie, watching her, nodded. 'Are they real?' she asked. 'I was completely dazzled !'
Celia, having finished oiling her arms and legs, handed Melanie the lotion and turned over to have her back done. 'This used to be Dad's job,' she said. 'It's yours now. Oh, they're real enough. She doesn't believe in hiding her treasures away. It's a way of intimidating people, I suppose; everybody falls over themselves to give her good service,' she added.
Melanie, carefully applying the lotion to Celia's already honey-coloured back, replied thoughtfully, 'I should think she would be afraid of being robbed. I know I would.'
Julian's deep voice interposed with, 'Not here. No one would dare. The staff are hand-picked, and paid well enough to prevent dishonesty.'
Melanie was surprised that Julian had heard the conversation, for she had thought that he was asleep. Having finished Celia's back, she started to put the top on the bottle ready to return it to the holdall.
`Dad next,' Celia said, as she turned round and settled back comfortably on the white sand.
Melanie was about to hand the lotion to Julian when Celia said in a drowsy voice, 'I do his back, so you'll have to do his, too,' and opened one eye to observe Melanie's startled expression.
Really, Celia could be infuriating at times, Melanie thought, and she could have smacked her for placing her in such an embarrassing position. All she could hope for was that Julian would let her off the hook, as she ignored Celia's words and handed him the bottle, hoping that he would feign sleep.
Her hopes, however, were short-lived, for she found him regarding her with what looked suspiciously like a twinkle in his grey eyes. `If you would be so kind,' he said gravely, and turned over to present her with his strong, powerful shoulders.
Gulping down her nervousness, Melanie had no choice but to apply the lotion to his already reddening skin.
`You've a nice touch,' Julian remarked gratefully when she had finished, and totally embarrassed, Melanie hid her confusion by busying herself with putting the top on the bottle and stowing it away in the holdall. This slight but discomfiting incident was only the beginning of what Melanie had in store, had she but known it, and the next few days proved even more trying for her.
At her husband's insistence, she had to mix in the company of people she had nothing in common with. She could understand his wish for everything to appear as normal as possible, but it did put her in an unenviable position, and she found conversation difficult in such sophisticated company, more so since the topics consisted only of diversions and distractions to what seemed a pointless existence. Too much money, and too much time on their hands, and
Melanie suspected that she was the one that was supplying most of their entertainment.
In a way this was understandable; the hotel was like a small village community. Everybody knew everybody else's business, and a newcomer was a source of avid interest until everything was known about him or her. Under the circumstances, it wasn't easy for Melanie to take things in her stride, but she was much too sensible a person to let them get her down. Even so, there were times when she wondered if Julian was putting her through a commando training course by dropping her in at the deep end and seeing if she could survive!
It was the only answer that made sense to her. She was sure that he was well aware that she hated the evening after-dinner sessions when they circulated among the other guests, all personal friends of his, and didn't attempt to shield her from their natural curiosity, making her feel if she had been pushed out to sea on a small raft to brave the heavy waves of the ocean as they swept over her.
She certainly had cause to be grateful for Celia's insistence on her purchasing several evening gowns, all of which stood up well against the richly dressed women around her. She was well aware that, as Julian Cridell's wife, she had to accept more than her fair share of interest in her appearance. She was also conscious of the fact that she didn't wear make-up. Her skin was clear and unblemished, and she had never used lipstick, hence Mrs Hounslow Holmes's remark about her looking like a games mistress, which was not so very far from the truth, Melanie had to concede later when she had had time to recall the remark. She would have been more gratified to have heard another of that astonishing lady's remarks,
which had likened her to a rambling rose set against a variety of hot-house orchids!
At first, she wondered what she should tell the more curious ones who enquired how she had met Julian, and on putting this to him, got the reply that the more they kept to the truth on these matters, the better it would be in the long run. She was to say that she had been employed as tutor to Celia, and let them take it from there. Melanie recalled herself flushing at the picture this was sure to present to most of the sophisticated women around them of a love at first sight, entailing a whirlwind courtship!
There was also the bald fact that her sudden appearance among them as Julian's wife had doused many hopes in that direction, particularly a few rich, bored divorcees, who consequently looked upon Melanie as an outsider who had had the temerity to plunder on their preserve. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, her unsophisticated manner and unadorned features must have caused much irritation, and seemed a positive insult to their beauty salon expenses.
After her first debut, Melanie could see how right Julian had been when he had advised her to tell the truth about their association. That way she couldn't be expected to have a lot in common with his friends, and the conversation would automatically drift on to other channels, making life a lot easier for her.
There remained only one little matter to worry her, and that was the fact that so far, no one had actually asked when they had married, and she could see a wretched time ahead should the actual date be known, for although Julian was attentive to her in company, it was hardly the kind of attention a man would give his new bride at such a time. Whatever else she felt able to
seek advice on, this question was certainly not one of them, and she was only too grateful that he hadn't thought of it himself, for should he make any attempt to act the lover, Melanie didn't know how she would cope. Basically honest, she could no more go through that stage of deception than she could put up with the detestable man her aunt had married. Not that she put Julian Cridell in that class, but the state of miserable embarrassment that would ensue in such a situation would be just as acute.
The days of that first week on the idyllic island drifted by, and each day, Melanie and Celia would go down to the beach. Now that Celia had teamed up with her friend Podge, Melanie had nothing much to do except get a good sun-tan, for Julian had business connections on the island, and was also part-owner of the hotel, and spent most of his time at various board meetings, joining them only when he was free from other commitments.
Melanie wasn't sure how it had all begun, but within two days of beach lounging, she found herself obliging several of the mothers by keeping watch over their children. At first it was a case of a mother forgetting to bring something out from the hotel, and asking Melanie if she minded her leaving her small son with her while she went back to collect the missing article, and of course, Melanie had no hesitation in agreeing.
Soon, no excuse was given by the mother, who automatically made a beeline towards Melanie with little Michael in tow, and would, after a brief chat to her drift off on some errand, leaving the child with Melanie. Human nature being what it was, it wasn't long before other mothers started taking advantage of this very useful method of dumping their offspring for
most of the morning while they enjoyed a complete break.
Celia, after coming back to join her on the third day, and finding seven little ones grouped around Melanie while she told them a story, asked in amusement if she was starting up a kindergarten on the island, and Melanie had smiled, and replied that it was an idea that was worth thinking about. To tell the truth, she was enjoying herself. The children were no bother at all, and she supposed it must be her teacher's nature that made her feel so much at home with them; it never occurred to her to look on the task as anything but enjoyable. For the first time since her arrival on the island, she felt useful, and actually began to look forward to the mornings and taking her 'class' through the adventures of old-time favourites, the stories of which were brought by the grateful mothers for Melanie to read to them.
She was in the middle of a particularly rousing story the following morning when she happened to glance up and saw Julian striding towards them, and she caught her breath for an instant in time at the sight of the tall, well-tanned man, whose physical stature dimmed all other males in the vicinity. She felt a peculiar sinking sensation in her stomach at the thought that this man, although still a stranger to her, was her husband.
His cold glance went from her to the children squatted around her as he reached them.
`Celia's over by the canoes,' said Melanie helpfully.