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Authors: Roumelia Lane

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BOOK: Across the Lagoon
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The train picked up speed and while she was sitting stiff with tension Gray's hand came down on her shoulder. He leaned forward to say close to her above the rattle, 'Keep your head down and your shoulders in.

The walls and roof come in pretty low at times.'

She knew what he meant. As the train jerked and swerved in a dozen different directions the seats shaved damp, encrusted masses of rock and weird overhanging formations. Soon, however, the journey became smoother. The caverns they were entering now were large and airy. Carol began to relax sufficiently to take note of her surroundings. Everywhere was pleasantly lit and to her there was a rather macabre beauty in the huge gnarled arches of rock and the grotesque fissures.

She was feeling a lot easier when the train eventually stopped for everyone to alight; almost to the point of forgetting that they were several hundred feet below the surface. There was so much room everywhere. Indeed, as Gray took her arm on the paved platform, the sight that met her eyes was of space, and yet more space. But that was a poor way to describe a scene which drew a gasp of delight from her lips.

Ahead of them, huge caverns as big as mansion halls were draped with the most fantastic shapes. Jagged stalactites cascaded down over columns of rock, like petrified snow-capped waterfalls. More of these spiky curtains cloaked slender pillars, trailed from crevasses, clefts and ledges, and festooned the roof in clusters, some of which reached almost to the floor.

The natural colours of the caves which were quite astounding, rust reds, silver greys, yellows, ice blues and moss greens, were highlighted by the skilful illuminations. Looking around, Carol thought one could almost imagine oneself in the middle of some rather exotic dream sequence. Except for the cold.

She* shivered and Gray, gripping her arm, said with one of his rare, sloping smiles, 'We'd better keep moving.'

With Stephanie alongside he led the way and for the next half hour or so they followed the dozens of other sightseers making a tour of the caves. There was lots to see. They walked up and down slopes and over hand- railed bridges gazing at twisting chasms below, where other people were walking. Over a swaying suspension bridge with roped sides, they saw the dark waters of the underground lake. And much to both girls' fascination, up alongside the curving walls of one cave a series of naturally formed grottoes, like small shop windows, were lit to show tiny toy and folk figures in various tableaux. Country scenes mainly, there were turning water-wheels and windmills, toadstool tea- parties, and a gnome rhythmically swinging his axe over a pile of logs.

When they came back to the vast hallway of the main cave the Yugoslavian guides, using a variety of different tongues, were describing the various facets of their surroundings to their own respective language groups.

Carol, along with the others, was listening at a distance to the English-speaking guide, when something happened that she was sure she would never forget as long as she lived.

Though she had found the experiences of the last half hour enchanting, she was far from insensible to the fact that they were several hundred feet inside the earth. And secretly she longed for the sunshine and trees and countryside up above. Standing next to Gray now, with Stephanie a little distance away, jumping on tiptoe to try and catch what the guide was saying, she was thinking that it couldn't be much longer before they were making their way back to the train, when suddenly the lights went out. Without any warning, the whole area of the underground caves was plunged into total darkness.

Seeing only blackness everywhere, Carol had to stifle a scream. In those first few seconds all kinds of horrifying thoughts sped through her mind. How were they going to get out? What if they had to stay down here for ever?

Unable to contain her terror, she flung herself against Gray and clung to him. In the darkness his arms came round her and he held her close.

And that was how they were some time later when the lights, just as mysteriously, flashed on again.

The darkness had lasted for possibly no more than a few seconds, but to Carol it had seemed an eternity. And she wasn't the only one who had found it scaring. There were nervous laughs and distinct gusts of relief all around as people, petrified to a stop by the sudden blackness, started to shuffle on their way again. The English-speaking guide, looking just a little paler, continued his chatter with a sickly smile.

Only Stephanie acted a little oddly. Though she was unaffected by the light failure, her gaze, when they were restored, was riveted on Carol locked against Gray. She made no comment, laughing or otherwise, but her dark eyes were lit with that peculiar brilliance before she swung her glance away.

Thankfully Gray didn't linger after the light incident. He led the way back to the train just about to start on its next run to the surface. As he was still close to Carol he sat in the seat beside her. Stephanie, drifting along on her own, dropped into a vacant seat a little way in front of them.

Carol had never been more glad to see daylight. As they left the train at the end of the line and walked out into the sunshine she said with a strained laugh, 'Caves are all right, but I don't think I want to see another one for at least fifty years!'

Gray, his arm still across her shoulders where he had helped her to dispense with her cloak, said with his sloping smile, 'Don't let the faulty lighting put you off. Situations of the kind we experienced down there are probably very rare.'

'Once is enough for me,' Carol laughed. Gray gleamed his amusement down at her as they walked away.

Neither paid much attention to Stephanie scuffing along beside them.

Enrico was across the space, gathering his flock together for the tea-time break. Gray guided Carol into their seat in the coach. Stephanie sat behind them. When everyone was aboard they drove into the town and were given a light meal in a very modern restaurant, its triangular frontage planted with the most magnificent rose trees.

Carol wasn't particularly hungry. Too much was happening today. And as though her heart wasn't full enough Enrico, during the meal, gave details of the final stop on the day's tour. This evening, on their way back through Trieste, he informed them, they were to see a Son et Lumi£re, a play in sound and light, in the park of Miramare Castle.

Carol knew what a Son et Lumi£re was. She had seen one when she had gone on a school trip once to Winchester, and had been fascinated by the eerie effect of amplified voices and clever lighting.

Her eyes were alight with surprised pleasure now as she turned to Gray to exclaim, 'I didn't know we were going to stop at Miramare Castle!'

He gave her his slow smile and said deeply, 'I thought I'd let it come as a surprise.'

After the meal there was a few minutes to spare before returning to the coach. Gray sat and smoked a cigarette, so Carol offered to accompany Stephanie on a stroll round the block. The younger girl accepted loftily. During the walk she kept three or four steps ahead, so there was little opportunity for conversation. In any case Carol was far too lost in her rose-tinted world to want to spoil it with chat.

Peeping down a street, however, pretty with white- faced cottages and flowering tubs placed at intervals along the pavement, she made an effort to be sociable and commented gaily to her companion, 'It's a lovely town, but I wish it had a more pronounceable name than Postojnska.'

While she was laughingly battling to get the name out Stephanie shot her a moody look and said cattily, 'You're so juvenile. Anyone knows the English way to say it is Postumia.'

'Postumia! Yes, that's much less of a mouthful.' Carol smiled about her, blissfully impervious to the barbed tones.

When they got back in sight of the restaurant everyone was making their way across the road to the coach. The girls hurried along and Carol saw Gray giving her a wave from the doorway. By the time they arrived he was waiting for her to precede him into their seat. Though Stephanie had managed to push in front of Carol as they boarded the coach, she had no choice but to go past Gray's bulk to the seat behind them.

Enrico arrived with the coach driver and soon they were on their way towards the Yugoslav border. After the same stern reception at the Customs they trundled off happily on Italian soil again. The coach got caught in the noisy evening traffic in the city of Trieste. Scooters, bicycles and cars jammed around them, and smiling vendors held ice cream on sticks at the windows,
'Gelati! Gelati!'

The coast road was peaceful in comparison. After the suburbs there was only the climbing green hills with their splendid villas and the blue sweep of the Adriatic on the left.

Across the bay on the very tip of the peninsula, Carol could see the icing-sugar shape of Miramare Castle. Veiled by the gathering dusk, its blurred reflection shimmering on the smooth water, to her it seemed steeped. in enchantment.

Round the bay they took the road on to the promontory. The coach park was at the entrance to the castle grounds. There was also a cafe and washing facilities, where everyone in the coach party was only too glad to rinse away the dust of travel and freshen up generally.

Her face scrubbed and glowing with the outdoors, her hair combed smooth, Carol dabbed a touch of eau- de-cologne at her wrists and throat and felt wonderfully revived. In the washrooms she waited for Stephanie, who coolly took her time, then they joined Gray on the castle drive. He looked fit and casually well-groomed after washing. His hair curled damply about his ears.

They had to wait until dark for the Son et Lumfere, so like everyone else they spent the time exploring the park of Miramare castle. From the start Carol was in raptures. Never before had she wandered in so magnificent a setting. Cedar, pine, willow and palm and many other trees drenched in the most fantastic greenery, adorned the lawns which sloped on all sides to the sea. Following their flowing lines, sets of balustraded steps led to sunken gardens, ornamental ponds, stone fountains and green trailing loggias.

In the fading light Carol waltzed from tree to tree along the terraces, hazarding a guess at their names. Stephanie, beside her, contradicted her on every occasion. On a green slope Carol trailed her fingers through a cloud of shimmering leaves and laughed, 'I'm sure it's a mulberry.'

'Rubbish!' Stephanie carped. 'Anyone can see it's an aspen.'

'You're both wrong,' Gray dropped an arm negligently across Carol's shoulder to smile drily. 'It's an Italian poplar.'

A thin crescent of moon was showing in the sky when they eventually made their way along with the rest of the coach party and Enrico to the wide grandstands erected over the sea. Tourists in other groups were already sorting seats out for themselves for the Son et Lumfere, English version, about to commence. Making one's way along the narrow aisles was a tricky business in the dark. Gray moved in first and took Carol's hand, leading her along after him. Carol would have taken Stephanie's hand to guide her in, but the younger girl apparently preferred to be independent.

The grandstand faced across a small inlet towards the castle, which loomed up on its jutting headland. At the moment it was clothed in green and yellow scarves of light and cast its reflection perfectly on the mirror- black waters in front of them. Carol had to be guided into her seat by Gray, for she couldn't take her eyes off the spectacle. Stephanie had already flopped down on the other side of her-

Among the pillars beneath her seat Carol could hear the waves breaking with a gentle splash. She shivered with a feeling of delicious anticipation. Gray took the jacket from her knee and said deeply, holding it for her to slip her arms into, 'You need this on.'

They had just settled down when the floodlights playing on the castle went out. For Carol this wasn't the ugly experience of the caves. Above her was the star- sprinkled sky, and all around, the glistening stretch of gently lapping water. She could feel Gray's shoulder brushing hers. Fleetingly she felt a raw ache inside her, reminding her that very soon now they would be leaving Italy. In a week perhaps, certainly no more, she would be back in England. Home with her family. And
Gray....

A chorus of voices floating across the water opened the performance, and quickly she pushed the unhappy thought to the back of her mind.

Her gaze was riveted by a single ray of light striking the sphinx-like figure which sat at the end of the little dock opposite, as though keeping a watch on the castle and its park. Then the voice of the custodian of the castle began to recall the story of Maximilian of Haps- burg and his consort, Charlotte, daughter of King Leopold of the Belgians.

He recounted how the young man first reached this romantic corner of the Triestine Riviera one autumn afternoon, and fascinated by the place's beauty, decided to build a castle there for his bride. The custodian recalled the stupendous parties that took place later and the radiantly-lit salons. But all too soon the Emperor Maximilian had to leave his wife to fight a war in Mexico.

He sailed away one April morning in 1864 and never returned, for he was shot by the Mexicans. The boat carrying his remains sailed silently past the Castle of Miramare where Charlotte was left to wander in delirium.

Once the outline of the plot had been given the drama started. The r61es were acted by the place itself. Almost by a miracle the castle transformed itself into a fairy-tale vision. Swift rays of changing hues that seemed to originate in space struck its white bulk, making the battlemented contours stand out sharply in the dark in variegated colours. The windows, the galleries, the balconies, the garden pathways all suddenly came alive; while melodious music and mysterious voices rose above the steady murmur of the surf.

Watching breathlessly, Carol was swept away by a magic suggestion of reality. She actually felt as though she was re-living in that atmosphere the tragic events of a hundred years ago.

She wasn't sure how Gray's arm came to be around her. Perhaps she shivered again. Transported on a fantastic voyage into the world of the past, she had no idea she was nestled close to him until the last rumbles of war died away and the chorus of voices brought the play to a close.

BOOK: Across the Lagoon
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