The moment passed swiftly and the orange sun dipped into the bay. Kent turned and leaned his back against the parapet. Almost immediately a voice exclaimed,
‘
So here you are, and we have found you
!’
Carla and her cousin Cristo stood in front of Althea, and the glances they bestowed on Kent Sanderby were mocking
and malevolent.
‘
You have been here all the time?
’
asked Carla.
‘
I came to do some shopping and I met Mr. Sanderby,
’
she explained casually.
‘
Your father told us that you were dining with a friend,
’
put in Cristo.
‘
I am sorry that—’
‘
And have I your permission to count myself a friend of Miss Buckland?
’
Kent
’
s tone held an undercurrent of anger.
‘
You behave strangely, Althea,
’
Carla complained.
‘
You told me you did not like the Signor Sanderby, but when he asks you to dinner, you are willing.
’
Althea, aware of Kent
’
s interested gaze, spoke hastily.
‘
I
’
m sure your impression was wrong. I
’
ve met Mr. Sanderby only twice before this evening. It would be rash if we all made up our minds to like or dislike on so short an acquaintanceship.
’
‘
Oh, do go on!
’
broke in Kent.
‘
It
’
s delightful to hear oneself talked about like this, as though I were not here.
’
‘
I
’
m sorry,
’
Althea apologised immediately.
‘
I didn
’
t mean
to discuss you, but
—’
‘
But you had to defend yourself against Carla,
’
he finished for her.
‘
I understand. As for you, Carla,
’
he swung round to address the girl.
‘
Be very careful
you
don
’
t offend me in any way or I shall refuse to support you over those singing lessons in Naples. Don
’
t rely on me to persuade your mother when she says
“
No!” ’
Carla was immediately all contrite smiles.
‘
Oh no, Kent. You must not threaten me so. That would be cruel.
’
‘
I can be very cruel,
’
Kent said sternly.
‘
As cruel as any of those Roman emperors who lived here and devoured
little
boys, so they say.
’
Carla shuddered delicately. Her large dark eyes gazed at Kent with unaffected adoration.
Cristo interposed briskly,
‘
Why don
’
t we all go somewhere and dance?
’
‘
Oh, that would be marvellous
!’
exclaimed Carla, linking her arm in Kent
’
s.
‘
D
’
you want to dance, Althea?
’
He emphasised her name, and she knew he was trying to goad Carla and perhaps Cristo, too.
‘
Not particularly
,’
she replied quickly.
‘
I ought to be going back to my father and, anyway, I
’
m not dressed for dancing.
’
‘
Oh, that son of thing doesn
’
t matter here,
’
Carla assured her.
‘
And your father can do without you for an hour or two.
’
Very gently Kent disengaged his arm from Carla
’
s entwined fingers.
‘
You two go and enjoy yourselves,
’
he said kindly, almost paternally.
‘
I
’
ll take Althea up to the villa.
’
He gave the other pair little chance to argue, for he almost dragged Althea away by the wrist and marched her towards the place where taxis waited.
‘
Ci
ao, Carla,
’
called Althea over her shoulder.
‘
C
i
ao, Cristo.
’
In the taxi she was mainly silent on the drive up the winding road to Anacapri.
She was reflecting that every time she met Kent Sanderby trouble followed. To veer her thoughts away from the scene which would surely follow when Carla had her first opportunity, Althea asked,
‘
D
’
you think Carla
’
s mother will allow her to go to Naples for lessons?
’
Kent made a slightly derisive noise, then grinned.
‘
I find this business of lessons in Naples a useful stick to beat Carla when she
’
s naughty. You
’
re the more likely one to persuade Signora Marchetti.
’
‘
How could I do that? I know nothing of the singing masters in Naples.
’
‘
It might do you a power of good to meet a few of them.
’
‘
I haven
’
t much of a singing voice.
’
‘
I wasn
’
t talking about singing,
’
he retorted.
By now they were almost outside the Villa Stefano.
‘
This is probably the wrong moment to come in,
’
he said.
‘
I
’
ll leave you just outside the gate.
’
She stepped out of the taxi.
‘
Thank you for a delicious dinner,
’
she said.
‘
If you get into too much hot water over it, telephone for me,
’
he said airily, and drove off.
Althea hardly knew whether to laugh or be very angry indeed with Kent Sanderby. She was convinced, however, that her best plan was to steer clear of
him
as much as possible in future. She found him interesting, but all her instincts cried out that to develop a friendship with him would be extremely unwise.
CHAPTER TWO
Althea
approached what she called the
‘
gingerbread house
’
at the Villa Stefano and let herself into her apartment. She needed a few moments to compose herself before meeting Signora Marchetti.
As her father was not in their own rooms, Althea guessed that he was in the salon. The sitting-room at the villa was always designated the
‘
salon
’
rather than
‘
il
salotto
’
and Althea considered that the room with its beautiful proportions, its high, painted ceiling deserved this rather exalted title.
It
w
a
s
, perhaps, over-fu
rn
ished with large easy chairs upholstered in blue brocade, a sofa and half a dozen rosewood chairs with seats covered in pale golden satin; there were innumerable occasional tables, some beautifully inlaid, and glass-fronted cabinets held a variety of china and glass ornaments. At one end of the long room a grand piano was placed at an angle so that the light from three full-length windows fell on the keyboard. Beyond the windows a wide stone terrace gave a breathtaking view of the whole sweep of the Bay. Whoever had designed and built the villa had shown considerable acumen in securing such a vantage point.
In the salon Lawrence and Signora Marchetti were playing a card game. He was apparently trying to teach his Italian hostess the game of cribbage.
Lawrence spoke fluent Italian as well as French, for he had applied himself to the languages for the sake of his business visits, and Signora Marchetti
’
s knowledge of English was reasonably good, although she was less fluent in speaking than her daughter, but now she found it impossible to grasp the odd phrases in the game.
‘
One for his nob?
’
she was saying as Althea entered the room.
‘
What is the nob, Signore Lorenzo?
’
Lawrence leaned back in his chair and laughed as he translated for her benefit.
‘
Am I disturbing you both?
’
Althea asked.
‘
Not at all. Signora Emilia has beaten me, old hand that I am.
’
‘
But he had to help me count the cards,
’
Signora Marchetti admitted.
‘
I like the game,
’
remarked Althea.
‘
Father and I have played it for many years, but you must be sharp,
signora
, to outwit him. He always knows what to keep and what to throw away.
’
After a moment, her father asked,
‘
Had a good evening?
’
‘
Yes, thank you.
’
‘
Did you see Carla and Cristo down in Capri?
’
queried Signora Emilia.
There was no wriggling out of that question.
‘
Yes, I met them near the piazza.
’
There was a lengthy silence. Mr. Buckland
’
s attention was fixed on lighting a cigar. Signora Marchetti idly played with the cards. Then she glanced up suddenly and gave Althea a piercing look of interrogation.
Althea made up her mind to plunge for the truth.
‘
I hope you won
’
t be offended, Signora Marchetti, but I had dinner with Mr. Sanderby. I met him quite by accident in Capri. It was really through Dr. Fortini who came and spoke to me and then Mr. Sanderby joined us.
’
The older woman frowned.
‘
No, I am not offended,
’
she said slowly. Then suddenly her round face changed its expression.
‘
So you were also with the doctor?
’
Althea knew it was prudent not to let any misunderstanding arise over that.
‘
No. Dr. Fortini left us after a short time. Then Mr. Sanderby asked me to dine with him at another restaurant.
’
Again the Signora frowned heavily, her dark eyebrows almost meeting in the centre. Then she nodded.
‘
Of course I understand. English girls have much more freedom than our girls. You are accustomed to going about with men.
’
Signora Marchetti made
‘
going about with men
’
sound like one of the deadly sins, thought Althea. So she added,
‘
Mr. Sanderby brought me up to the villa by taxi, but I did not invite him to come in,
signora,
I knew you would not wish me to do that.
’
Signora Marchetti pursed her lips and appeared to reflect on the situation.
‘
Thank you. That was most kind.
’
She gave a sudden smile as she glanced at Althea.
‘
But perhaps I am mistaken and he is not so bad after all. He is English and so different from Italian men, and I do not understand him. Lorenzo, what do you think?
’
The Marchettis had translated
‘
Lawrence
’
into
‘
Lorenzo
’
soon after his arrival, but Althea
’
s name was more difficult and they usually called her
‘
Al-tay-a.
’
Having now maintained a most discreet silence while the conversation between Signora Marchetti and Althea took place, he looked up.
‘
I thought he was a very decent chap. I don
’
t know much about him, but he seems all right.
’
The Signora beamed at Althea.
‘
Then that is settled. I make no objection if you want to go out with him. That is not the business for me. But you may also bring him here sometimes. Not too often, please, for I do not trust him yet with my Carla.
’
While she courteously thanked Signora Marchetti for this co-operation, Althea hid her secret smiles. In the first place, she was not at all sure that she wanted to go out very frequen
tl
y with Kent Sanderby. Secondly, trying to discourage any association between Carla and Kent was hardly the most effective way for the Signora to extinguish what might be only a passing infatuation on the young girl
’
s part.
Mr. Buckland shuffled the cards again.
‘
One more game, Signora Emilia. Then my dragon daughter will order me to bed.
’
‘
Without doubt,
’
agreed Althea, as she picked up a magazine.
A few minutes later this peaceful scene was shattered as Carla erupted into the room, with Cristo following close behind her.
‘
Mamma
!’
she cried angrily.
‘
Do
you know where Althea was tonight? She was with that man!
’
Then she broke into a flood of such rapid Italian that Althea could not follow the words but only the general gist of the matter, and that indicated that Carla was almost frenzied with indignation.
Her mother answered just as rapidly and Carla stopped in mid-sentence.
‘
She already told you!
’
she said in English.
‘
Oh, but that was clever, very clever. She tells you first before I arrive home.
’
‘
Carla, you must not insult our English guests
!’
broke in her mother. A further spate of Italian followed between the two, the Signora obviously lecturing her daughter on lack of manners and Carla justifying herself that she had reason to be angry.
‘
Come, Althea, we will say goodnight to Signora Emilia,
’
suggested Mr. Buckland.
Althea was only too glad to escape and in the sitting-room of their apartment, Mr. Buckland relaxed in an armchair.
‘
That was quite a scene,
’
he remarked, with a twinkle at Althea.
‘
What have you been doing to upset Carla so much? Stolen her young man?
’
Althea laughed.
‘
Not exactly. Carla is rather impressed with Kent Sanderby, mostly, I think, because he
’
s a composer and dabbles in opera and it all sounds very romantic.
’
‘
And what about him? Is he attracted to her?
’
‘
I wouldn
’
t know. I just think it would be a bad thing for Carla if she built up her hopes too high. She imagines he
’
s going to let her sing in his operas. Well, that might come off, but more likely she
’
d be one of the chorus.
’
‘
I suppose that
’
s why Emilia doesn
’
t much care for him or visualise him as a prospective son-in-law. She
’
d prefer someone with a good steady job.
’
Mr. Buckland yawned and Althea pounced on him. Ted, Father. I wish you hadn
’
t been upset by that outburst from Carla, but I
’
m glad I told the Signora about it first, or Carla would have accused me again of being sly and a sneak.
’
Her father laughed.
‘
She did. She called you all sorts of uncomplimentary names in Italian. Sly, mean, underhand trickster and a lot more. You
’
ll have to take your Italian lessons more seriously if you want to keep up with that girl.
’
‘
I shall have to learn a whole new vocabulary,
’
she answered.
‘
Well, at least Emilia won
’
t be annoyed if you bring this man Sanderby here sometimes
,’ M
r. Buckland commented.
‘
That should make for a certain amount of peace. In any case, you have a perfect right to meet whomever you choose outside the house.
’
‘
Still, all the same, I wouldn
’
t deliberately go against her wishes,
’
replied Althea.
‘
I don
’
t want you involved in these controversial arguments.
’
‘
Oh, indeed! I was glad of a bit of excitement, as long as no one came to blows. In fact, I really feel that I
’
m having too much cosseting. I shall go into a decline as a result of always being lapped in comfort and insulated from all the little pinpricks of life.
’
‘
Time to talk about that in six months
’
time,
’
she said sternly.
‘
Dr. Fortini is apprehensive that the moment he turns his back, you
’
ll exert yourself too much and climb up and down the cliffs.
’
‘
Oh, it
’
s not cliff-climbing I
’
m particularly keen on. I
’
m beginning to feel I need something to occupy my mind. I
’
ve been chewing over an idea, but much of it depends on you.
’
‘
Permission to chew over ideas certainly does depend on me,
’
she told him.
‘
You
’
re tired, Father. You can tell me about your brainwaves in the morning.
’
‘
No, Althea, I
’
d like to tell you something about it now. Stop prowling about and sit down and listen.
’
She yielded, for she saw that unless she gave in, her father would probably have a restless night.
‘
How d
’
you feel about staying here in Capri for a longish time? I don
’
t mean for the rest of your life, of course, but a year or two, say.
’
‘
I haven
’
t thought much about the future. The main thing was for you to get well.
’
‘
Yes, but it
’
s a different life for both of us. I worked myself too hard and I put too much pressure on you, too.
’
‘
No, Father, I didn
’
t have more than I could take. Sometimes I became worried about you, with the everlasting journeys.
’
‘
Yes, it was the endless travelling that probably made me crack up. Well, my plan is one that wouldn
’
t involve much travelling about at all.
’