[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
the middle-aged man who came forward with outstretched hands to touch on
his companion with a little thrust of nervous apprehension.
In that one comprehensive glance she saw enough to increase her anxiety.
Renata Campbell was a glowing, golden girl with great blue eyes, elegant
long legs and a warm, caressing smile which at this moment was
unmistakably fixed on Ashley.
'Mr Campbell, may I present my wife. Selina, this is Mr Campbell, who has
been kind enough to ask us to dinner.' Ashley had his hand beneath her
elbow as he made the introduction, and the slight, possessive gesture left no
doubt in the minds of the other two people present that he regarded her as his
possession. There was something in the way he stood beside her, constantly
aware of her, that reinforced the implicit declaration of ownership. She was
deeply conscious of it herself, and saw Renata's long, narrowed glance
harden on her.
Lifting her chin, she smiled and shook hands with Mr Campbell, turned to
repeat the process with Renata. The other girl's hand was limp between her
fingers and quickly withdrawn.
'We had no idea Ashley was married or we would never have got in touch
with him,' said Mr Campbell, his bald head shining with the heat. He had
Renata's blue eyes, slightly protuberant in his case, and a kind, warm smile
which softened the otherwise aggressive cut of his features. 'Renata always
accuses me of being obsessed with business, but even I draw the limit at
butting in on another man's honeymoon ... I asked you and your husband to
dinner, Mrs Dent, so that I could apologise in person, and after tonight we'll
vanish from your lives, I promise.'
'I hope you will do nothing of the kind,' Ashley returned with equal
formality. 'When we fly home I shall be very happy to see you visiting us for
dinner very soon.'
Mr Campbell laughed. 'You're a very forgiving man, Ashley. I don't think I
would feel too kindly to anyone who interrupted my honeymoon, especially
if my wife was as lovely as yours!' And he smiled at Selina admiringly.
'What unusual hair,' Renata said softly. 'I've never seen that particular colour
before.' Her eyes were cold as she stared at Selina and the implication was
clear she meant that she suspected Selina's hair to be artificially coloured
to that shade of red-gold.
Selina smiled coolly at her. 'Thank you,' she said with extreme courtesy,
pretending to believe it to be a compliment.
'Shall we go in and have an aperitif?' Mr Campbell asked quickly, as if
nervous of what his daughter might say next. 'Mrs Dent, may I have the
pleasure?' He crooked his arm, smiling, and Selina moved to join him.
Renata softly slipped past her to take Ashley's arm between her two hands,
smiling up at him invitingly. It was extraordinary, thought Selina, how that
smile could change. When it was focused on Ashley it was like a naked
electric light. The warmth vanished, however, when she turned to look at
Ashley's wife. Had Mr Campbell's presence on the island been purely
coincidence? Or had Renata been aware of Ashley's presence here, if not of
his marriage? Had she in fact deliberately pursued him here with the
intention of getting to know him better? It must have been something of a
shock to her to find out that he was married.
The cocktail bar was dimly lit and exotically decorated with potted palms,
conch shells, fishing nets draped across the walls with starfish and pearly
pink shells fixed among their folds, and a general air of unreal native colour.
Mr Campbell fussed over Selina, seeing her comfortably settled in a deep
white leather chair, while Renata slid down on to a high-backed leather
couch opposite, patting the place next to her with a smile at Ashley, who sat
down next to her, his thigh obviously pressing her slim leg. Briefly his
glance flickered to Selina, taunting her, but she withdrew her own gaze
before it had met his and turned to smile at Mr Campbell.
A waiter materialised, bowing, and Mr Campbell asked her what she would
like to drink.
'That dress is really something,' Mr Campbell said as the waiter moved
away. 'What colour would you call that?'
'Apricot,' she said softly.
'It suits you,' he nodded. 'Same colour as your skin.'
She laughed. 'I shall be the colour of that wood when we get home, the sun
is so hot here.'
He considered her. 'With your colouring you shouldn't be out in the sun too
long, you know, although you're so brown I don't suppose it will matter
much.'
Renata was murmuring so softly to Ashley that Selina could not hear a
word, but the undisguised intimacy between the two of them was making
her seethe angrily. He was doing this deliberately.
The drinks arrived, and she sipped hers carefully listening to Mr Campbell's
voice without really hearing what he said. Her whole being was
concentrated on the two opposite them, although she never once glanced in
their direction. Antennae she had not known she possessed picked up every
tone of voice, every slight movement between them, and she was deeply,
bitterly angry with Ashley for the way he was behaving.
They eventually ordered their meal, sipping their drinks and quietly
discussing the menu, and ten minutes later a waiter arrived to invite them to
take their places at the table.
As they walked through the bar into the more brightly lit dining-room
Selina's eyes caught the glance of a stranger across the room and for one
split second her body was wrung by a sensation of revulsion and shock.
The thin, brown face and silvered hair, the air of authority undisguised
beneath a lightweight suit, were hatefully familiar to her, and her widened
eyes conveyed as much to the man watching her across the tables.
Then she turned away to follow her party to their table, allowing Mr
Campbell to fuss over her once more as she sat down. Her hands shook as
she shook out her napkin. Her lips were dry with sudden appalling tension.
Ashley, glancing at her, frowned, his eyes narrowing. He looked around the
room in a swift, searching glance, then looked back at her, his eyes
searching, demanding an explanation. Selina could feel the draining of her
colour. Her fingers were icy cold and shook as she gripped the edge of the
table.
Swallowing, she managed to begin her meal, although she had never felt
less like eating. The food tasted like sawdust and her throat closed in
revulsion as she forced it down.
During the second course her attention was caught when the man at the other
side of the room stood up and moved towards their table. Her nerves leapt in
terrified anticipation, although she never once looked at him- He slowed as
he neared them, his eyes fixed on her averted face. Ashley laid down his
fork, staring at her in hard enquiry.
The tall, thin man paused beside their table, his eyes fixed on her.
For a few seconds longer Selina tried not to turn and look at him, but his
insistence was unavoidable. At last she slowly moved her head and their
eyes met.
Pulses were beating painfully at her throat and wrist. Her wide, terrified
eyes pleaded with him.
He bowed, his face expressionless. 'Good evening, Selina,' he said calmly.
Without even looking at her companions he then moved away and left the
dining- room.
She looked down at her plate, her lips shaking. She knew that Ashley was
staring at her, and she did not need to look at him to know the expression in
his grey eyes.
Renata Campbell was alert, picking up the tension at the table. 'A friend of
yours, Mrs Dent?' she asked softly.
Selina forced herself to look up. A wide, mirthless smile moved her mouth.
'Not exactly,' she said huskily. 'I ... I met him once, years ago.'
'You obviously made a deep impression,' Renata laughed with the tinkling
sound of ice.
'I'm not surprised,' Mr Campbell said, smiling bluffly. 'His face is familiar.
What does he do, Mrs Dent? He isn't an actor, is he? He has that sort of face.'
'He was rather dishy, in an austere sort of way,' Renata commented. She
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]