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Authors: Roumelia Lane

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BOOK: Across the Lagoon
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'All right.' He folded his newspaper which seemed to hold little interest for him this morning, and added with a slight bark. 'Get me a racquet too. I could do with some exercise.'

Stephanie's eyes became large and round. 'Are
you
going to play?' she asked delightedly.

'I'm not that ancient, child,' he said drily, rising to his feet. 'I dare say I'll manage to keep you two on the move.'

He did too. Though he played as he danced, a little rustily, as though he hadn't done it for a long time, he had an athletic approach, and his serves were fairly powerful.

Carol was too shy to play much at first. She let Stephanie have the run of the court on their side, stepping in only occasionally to lob a ball back when it got too hot for the younger girl. But she had been fairly good at tennis at school and her interest in the game made her forget her awkwardness. Soon she was dominating the play, thwacking the ball at Gray Barrett with a force which made him gleam wincingly before he lobbed it back. At somewhere around a draw, they finished hot and perspiring and returned to the hotel to shower and change.

Over lunch Stephanie asked spontaneously, "Will you swim with us at the beach this afternoon, Gray?'

'I'll think about it,' he said with a non-committal frown.

But when they met at the front of the hotel later, he came through the foyer, big in a white terry-towelling bathrobe, and sandals of all things on his feet. Carol, remembering to dress decorously in his presence, was wearing a patterned one-piece swim-suit under her beach dress. Stephanie, copying her, was in a white swim-suit and open beach dress.

The heat was enervating and the two girls wasted no time, once they were on the sand, in disrobing and flying off for a dip in the cool sea. Gray Barrett took his time. From where she was splashing around up to her chin Carol saw that he had a truly athletic build. Though she knew that swim shorts didn't date all that much, she had a feeling that his pale blue ones had been bought some years ago, and used very little.

As usual, she was eaten up with shyness when he arrived at the water's edge. She left Stephanie to laugh and splash around him as he joined them. He swam strongly and once he was hidden by the waves Carol felt safe in matching his prowess with her own. With Stephanie tagging on behind they swam towards one of the long-prowed schooners which was anchored out from the shore waiting to do the mid-afternoon sea trip.

The water was as smooth as glass, but distance was deceiving. They seemed no nearer to the boat now than they had been five minutes before. When all the other bathers on the fringe of the sea had been left behind, Gray Barrett turned and said abruptly, 'That's far enough.'

A little breathlessly they followed him laggardly back to the shore. They spent the rest of the afternoon soaking up the sun.That evening at dinner Stephanie was prattling on about their beach sessions when her uncle interrupted, her with the words, 'I was planning to return to Venice tomorrow, but I see the hotel is running a trip to Cortina. It's good for you to visit these places. I don't know what the state of the booking is, but I think it's fairly safe to say we'll be going.'

'To Cortina? Whoopee!' Carol's eyes danced. Then remembering her place under his ironic gleam she looked at her plate and stammered, *I mean ... that should be nice.'

Stephanie seemed a little crestfallen at the proposed trip. At least it looked that way to Carol, but later when they were upstairs and she asked, 'Don't you want to go on the coach ride, Stephanie?' the younger girl replied in measured tones, 'Of course! I'm looking forward to the trip to Cortina tomorrow.' She said goodnight laughingly and swung away towards her bedroom, but there was an odd secretive light in her brown eyes that Carol didn't like the look of. She made her way thoughtfully to her own room. What was Stephanie up to now? she wondered.

 

They had to take a launch to the mainland for the coach to Cortina. There was just about a bus load of tourists making the trip. Carol, bubbling with excitement, had found pleasure in dressing up for the occasion. She wore a sleeveless pleated dress in a pale floral design, its low scooped-out neckline edged with a tie which fastened in a soft bow at her bosom. Stephanie was looking pretty in a bright tangerine dress edged with floral piping.

The biggest surprise of the morning for Carol was Gray Barrett's outfit. He had actually discarded his town suit and had come to meet them in the foyer, wearing biscuit-coloured slacks and a coffee-coloured silk sports shirt. At first she couldn't take her eyes off him. He looked so big and considerably more relaxed than she was used to seeing him. She felt shyer than ever with him now aboard the launch.

The trip across the water was soon at an end. The group was led from the quay towards the car park. The coach for Cortina was a long luxurious affair with huge windows, and curtains for those who preferred shade.

Everyone was in high spirits, Stephanie included. She was one of the first in the coach and jauntily led the way to the front seats. Bianca was to be their guide for the day. The dark smiling Italian girl had that gift which most couriers possess, the ability to get on with anyone. She and Stephanie were old friends. When she asked the younger girl to share the front guide's seat with her Stephanie readily accepted.

This put Carol in rather a quandary. She had been standing in the aisle waiting to sit with Stephanie, which was her usual practice. Now she was left with Gray Barrett. She hung about eager to take the seat near the window, but not knowing whether she ought to offer it to him. Reading her mind, he waved her in before him, saying drily, 'I've seen most of these places before. I come on the trips strictly for Stephanie's benefit.'

Carol jumped at the opportunity, though she suffered an excruciating shyness as he settled his big frame next to hers. Luckily by this time everyone was aboard and the driver had taken his seat. Soon Bianca's voice over the microphone was giving her something else to think about.

There wasn't a lot for the guide to describe when they first started out, for the countryside around Venice is flat and featureless. However, as they progressed north, the landscape became more wooded and green. In the villages which they passed through Carol was fascinated at the practice of the housewives, which was to hang every scrap of bedding out of the upstairs windows. Striped mattresses greeted the coach like banners along the route.

Sometimes she would see a tall ochre-coloured house standing on its own in fields of lush green growth. Nearly always there would be a slender palm nearby and a garden of luxuriant shrubbery. The Italians too, she noticed, were fond of flowerpots. It wasn't unusual to see a whole line of them, brilliant with colour, trailing down a back outside stairway.

Bianca was warming up now with her anecdotes, linking them with various scenes along the way. She knew all there was to know about the route, and had a dramatic tale to tell about the most ordinary stretch of river or small bridge they passed over. Like all Italians she enjoyed most telling stories to do with disasters or calamities of some kind.

She knew too everything that grew in the fields and pointed out tall sugar cane and forests of slender poplars which were cultivated specially for making plastic.

Halfway through the journey the coach pulled in at a cafe for a break. Though the scenery had been gradually growing more picturesque, Carol was unprepared for the view that met her eyes as she came out on to the steps of the coach. They had parked in front of open-air tables set out on the cafe veranda. The road running down alongside it was steep and curved. Across the curve, beyond one or two more cafes on the other side, mirroring the backcloth of climbing pine-clad hills in its depths, was a lake, vast, green and silent.

'Oh!' was all Carol could say when she saw it.

Gray Barrett, waiting for her outside, remarked on her dreamy state with his usual irony. 'You're holding up the rest of the passengers, Miss Lindley. And this is only a twenty-minute stop. I suggest we go and see about a drink.' So saying he took her arm and helped her down.

Recovering herself in a laughing fluster, Carol accepted his assistance blushingly. At least he didn't seem cross at her starry-eyed wonder, which was something. And anyway there were only three or four people behind her, Stephanie included.

As the girls moved towards the cafe together and chattered about the ride, Carol exuded to the younger girl, 'Have you seen the view? Isn't it fabulous?'

'Super,' Stephanie said with an absent smile. Her gaze was fixed on her uncle up ahead.

Gray Barrett chose a table on the veranda. As it was already extremely hot, all three had cooling drinks. Afterwards with a few minutes to spare before boarding time, a lot of the coach passengers were crossing the road to get a better view of the lake beyond the buildings on the other side. This was a precarious business because the traffic travelling down the curve of the road came round the blind bend at speed.

Carol was eager to see more of the lake and Stephanie, in unusually good humour, offered to accompany her. Gray Barrett frowned on the idea. At first Carol thought he was going to forbid her to go, but his clamped jaw slackened as he looked at her and moving in he said levelly, 'If you must go I'd better come with you. This is a tricky bend.'

Stephanie caught hold of his arm happily. On the other side of him Carol didn't know what to expect as they stood waiting for a lull in the traffic, but when he took her hand in his she was amazed at how natural it felt. She noticed the firm feel of his hand, the strong grip of his fingers holding hers.

So conscious was she of his touch that when they got to the other side of the road she forgot to look at the lake. Oh, she stared at it, but inwardly all she could think of was the feel of her hand resting in his.

As there were only minutes to spare they were soon crossing back and joining everyone else in re-boarding the coach. Stephanie reclaimed her seat next to the guide. She was enjoying assisting Bianca in her duties and was proving useful in knowing when to hand her the microphone or the notebooks she used.

Behind them Gray Barrett took his seat next to Carol beside the window. She gazed out eagerly as they started off. They were coming up to the exciting part of „ the journey now, as far as she was concerned anyway. She had never seen a mountain in her life and according to the chatter in the coach the Dolomites were quite something.

The road took them on past the lake and through craggy countryside. Bianca quickly got into her stride with the microphone. She was soon on her favourite topic when they came to a wide river bed with just a summer trickle of water flowing along its centre. This, she explained, looked harmless enough now, but in the winter when Florence had suffered serious floods, the trickle had been a raging torrent and had caused untold damage from here to the coast.

And she had more hair-raising tales to tell as they climbed further into the gorge. Across the river, everyone was told to look to where a ravine was cut into the hills at the far side. Above this ravine, Bianca chattered on happily, there had once been an artificial lake, but one torrentially rainy night it burst its banks, taking half the mountainside with it, which was now the ravine, and poured millions of tons of water into the valley. The handful of villages along its thundering route had been completely wiped out. That was why, Bianca explained breezily, there was nothing to be seen on the land stretching away on either side of the river bed but mud flats and pebbly wastes.

'How awful!' Shocked, Carol swung her clouded blue gaze in from the desolate scene and met Gray Barrett's brown one.

'It happened a long time ago,' he said, and directing her gaze up towards the front of the coach he told her, 'Look, we're coming up to the start of the Dolomites, or the pre-Alps as they call them.'

The poignant scene forgotten, Carol looked up ahead eagerly at the stairways of craggy peaks beyond the road. If this was just the start what were the real mountains like?

As the coach progressed along the narrow ribbon of road, it wasn't long before she was seeing them at first hand. From the giant stairways the soaring masses rose higher and higher into the sky until they were towering to such heights she couldn't believe what she saw. Like the rest of the passengers who were unfamiliar with the scene she kept bending in her seat to try and get the tip of the peaks into her view. Thankfully the man beside her was tolerant of her leaning across him.

Another fascinating sight, now that they were approaching Cortina, was the timber-built houses at the side of the road and dotted in the distance. With large overhanging eaves, gay shutters and two and three- storey-high flower-decked verandas every one could have been lifted straight out of a children's picture book.

The coach passed the Olympic ski-jump, after which Bianca announced that they would shortly be coming into the town of Cortina. The tourist party were to dine at a restaurant in the main square. Following this everyone would be allowed to do as they wished for the duration of the two-hour stay. Tickets for the cable car ride up the mountain of Folaria would be available to those who desired them.

So saying, Bianca packed her things away with Stephanie's assistance, and everyone sat fluttering with anticipation, and waiting to alight.

Carol was too excited to eat much at lunch. She knew that Gray had purchased tickets for the cable car ride, and having seen the tiny red object looking no bigger than a matchbox against the awful grandeur of the mountain, she was gripped by a kind of delicious fear. Stephanie too seemed more than usually intrigued at their proposed trip up the mountain.

After the meal the three of them wandered along the gay little street lined with shops. At the kiosk with a clock tower on top in the centre of the square, Carolbought a postcard to send to her mother. Gray bought cigarettes. Stephanie kicked her heels impatiently.

They walked where several beautifully decorated chalets lined the square. Then it was time to meet
the
others who were going to ascend the mountain. Stephanie skipped eagerly along leading the way. Carol stayed beside Gray. As she cast her gaze frequently to that tiny red speck high up amongst the peaks she wasn't
sure
now whether she would be able to go through with
the
trip. She was heartened when they arrived at the
cable
car ramp to see that lots of the other coach passengers were laughingly in awe of the adventure.

BOOK: Across the Lagoon
2.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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