Across the Lagoon (22 page)

It was a depressing sound and it made Carol all the more aware of the deep silence inside the apartment. She wasn't at all sure that it was good for Stephanie to sleep right through until morning. She ought to have a meal. The tick of the little travelling clock over on a wall shelf seemed to dominate the stillness.

Carol rose dabbing her lips and feeling an odd stab of apprehension. Everything was too quiet. What if Stephanie were ill? She had seemed none the worse after her foolish prank this afternoon, but she was only a child. She might have developed a fever, be unconscious ... anything!

Carol worked herself into quite a state on the way to Stephanie's bedroom, so that when she opened the door, what she found inside was a shock of another kind.

The bed was empty; neatly made up, just as the hotel maid had left it this morning.

Carol stared at it blankly for some moments before the fact registered that Stephanie, far from being ill as she had expected, was not even here.

She looked around the room. Everything was normal. So normal she felt the icy cold finger of fear trailing down her spine. Why hadn't Stephanie gone to bed as she had been told to do this afternoon? Where was she now?

Carol looked at her watch. It was almost eleven- thirty. Her heart banging against her ribs, she dressed quickly. Her hands trembled so badly she could hardly turn the key in the lock when she went out.

The lift downstairs had never gone so slow. She drummed her fingers on the door waiting for it to come to a stop. All was silent in the dimly lit foyer. She went through the deserted lounge and even out to the pool, now all in darkness.

White-faced, she retraced her steps, her mind racing back over their near-disastrous swim this afternoon, and later when they had been recovering on the deck. She had noticed the way Stephanie had looked at her as Gray had held her dripping against him. The odd wild light in that dark brown gaze had troubled Carol then, and she had felt a deep unease at it even in her sleep. Now the memory of it flooded back to fill her with an all-consuming dread.

She practically ran the rest of the way to the reception desk. It was a simple matter to get Gray's room number once she had dug the night receptionist out of his little back office. She hurried to the lift on the other side of the foyer and took it up to the appropriate floor. She found the right door after a panic-stricken hunt along several wrong turnings. She pushed the bell with all her strength.

Gray came to the door. Her pounding heart jolted slightly at the sight of him in silk dressing gown tied loosely over open-necked shirt and slacks. His brow knitted in surprise when he saw her. His brown gaze searching her white working features, he asked harshly, 'What's wrong?'

'It's Stephanie.' Carol pushed past him inside the room. She had a blurred impression of a small lounge with papers scattered around and an open briefcase on a chair. She turned and said in strangled tones, 'She's not in bed. I can't find her anywhere.'

Gray closed the door watching her. 'She's probably in the hotel somewhere,' he said with a shrug.

'She isn't. I've looked.' Carol wrung her hands and paced, then swung on him with a tear-starred gaze. 'Oh, don't you see? She's gone! Run away! And it's all my
fault...
and yours,' she flung at him, too overwrought to care what she was saying. 'All your niece wanted was a little of your time. But you're always so busy,' she waved an arm disparagingly at his papers, 'you don't even know she exists. You've spent all summer dragging her round the sights of Italy when all she needs is a little love. But what do
you
know about love?" she sobbed at him. 'You're just a machine!'

His own face ashen, Gray gripped her by the shoulders. 'Carol, calm down,' he said gently.

Carol tried to shake free, filled with her own guilt. She had allowed herself to fall steadily in love with Gray, not caring that Stephanie had been watching it happen. Knowing something now of the younger girl's misery, she flung her tear-filled glance at Gray and in high-pitched tones quivered at him again, 'Don't you see? You're all she has. That mad swim of hers this afternoon was a last frantic bid to spotlight your neglect of her. She was willing to go that far to gain your attention, and you had to save
me.'

'You were drowning, child,' Gray said quietly. "What did you expect me to do?'

Stopping her struggles for a moment, Carol looked at him as he held her. In his eyes she read something which she had hardly dared to believe, something which made her whole body tremble with delight. But instead of rejoicing she recoiled from him and said in anguished tones, 'Oh no! That makes it worse.'

Gray drew her close, but Carol could only think of Stephanie. 'We'll find her,' he said soothingly, his face haggard. 'Now come and sit down.'

He led her to a chair and poured her a drink. 'Sip it slowly. It'll pull you together a bit.' He handed her the glass. 'I'll go and get dressed.'

He appeared a few minutes later in a light suit. Carol jumped up and they went to the door. Outside he gave her directions along the corridors and told her, 'You go to your room and see if you can find any clues as to where Stephanie might have gone. I'll go downstairs and do what I can.'

Carol found her way back to the apartment and opened the door, hoping with all her heart that she would find a pert little dark-haired figure there. But the rooms were empty and silent, just as she had left them.

She^-wandered around Stephanie's bedroom, not knowing what she was looking for. Everything was the same as she had always known it, slightly cluttered but with a modicum of tidiness.

Aftet some minutes had passed the bell rang. She went to let Gray in, her gaze searching his face anxiously. She told him on the way to Stephanie's room, 'All her clothes are here. Nothing is any different. The only thing that appears to be missing is her handbag, so presumably she's taken money with her.'

Gray nodded and glanced around the room, his face grim with concern. He turned back out into the lounge to say, 'I've had a word with some of the staff downstairs. Old Luigi, one of the night porters, knows her. He said he saw her at the landing stage when he came in, catching a launch for Venice.'

'Venice?' The blood drained from Carol's face. Her mind working horribly, she stumbled blindly to her room. 'We must go and find her.'

As she snatched up her handbag Gray stood behind her swaying figure and asked levelly, 'Do you think you're fit to go out tonight?'

'Oh, how can I worry about me?' She whirled on him in angry exasperation.

He glanced around the room, picked up a garment, looking at it to make sure it was what he thought it was, then throwing the fleecy cardigan round her shoulders, he told her, 'You look like death. Put this on.'

Impatiently she struggled into it and hurried to the door. Gray reached it before her to open it. He strode alongside her towards the lift. Downstairs they walked quickly across the silent foyer. The night air was cold. She was glad now that Gray had had the sense to think of the cardigan.

They took a taxi to the landing stage. It was almost deserted. But for a handful of Italian fishermen, she and Gray had the launch to themselves. In the darkness, a sharp salty tang heavy on the breeze, Gray stood staring out towards the lights of the city. Carol, watching his flexing jaw, knew that like her, he was gravely worried. It was now almost one o'clock. Stephanie was only fifteen, and in a city the size of Venice.... Quickly she shut off her thoughts and willed the boat to go faster.

From the Riva Schiavoni landing stage, they went straight to St Mark's Square. The crowds were as thick as ever in the tourist section, late-night visitors, the usual nocturnal Venetians, and uniformed personnel.

As Carol merged and raked every face that passed by, Gray strolled close beside her. Occasionally when a pair of dark eyes appeared a little too friendly he dropped an arm negligently across her shoulders.

He left it to her to know where to look. She chose the route the girls had taken on the night that Stephanie had made that other wild trip to Venice. Outside the restaurants and places of entertainment she searched the crowds, looking for a pathetically painted little face, a pile of dark hair pinned up rakishly on top of a small head, all to no avail. Stephanie was nowhere to be seen.

Her quest led her eventually to the garish ballroom, beside the canal. It looked more tawdry than ever with its open front and couples shaking to the sound of shrieking brass trumpets.

As they approached Gray took Carol's arm and led her to the grillework screen at the entrance. 'You wait here,' he said firmly. 'I'll look inside.'

He said something at the pay desk, then walked in. Carol used the time straining her gaze to search the faces of the couples on the dance floor. She waited eagerly for Gray, willing him to return with Stephanie in tow.

So intent was she in trying to pick out that small familiar face that a strange arm had slid round her waist before she knew what was happening, and a deep voice, heavily accented, said close to her ear, 'All alone? Now that is a shame!'

Startled, Carol turned to find herself gazing into the somewhat flabby features of a dark-eyed Italian. She could smell the perfumed pomade on his hair and felt the heat from his paunchy frame. She didn't like him, but she was too polite to show her distaste. She preferred, if she could, to sidle away from him without hurting his feelings. However, she was given no opportunity to try, for in that moment Gray appeared.

His eyes showing their steely light, he strode in and taking a grip on Carol's shoulder under the Italian's nose, he said tersely, 'Sorry, we're just leaving.'

The paunchy man in his tight-fitting suit bowed and with a leering smile replied smoothly, 'My mistake,
signore.'

Gray ushered her outside. 'No luck,' he told her when they were walking away. He added grimly, 'We'd better get back to the hotel. There's nothing more we can do tonight.'

Though Carol was loath to give up trying she knew that he was right. It was senseless this trudging around the city and she was almost too exhausted to care any more.

His arm supporting her, Gray took over on the route back. He used public transport where it was possible and got them back to the launch in a matter of minutes.

They were both silent on the journey across to the Lido. Carol knew that, like her, Gray was fully occupied with the gnawing worry inside.

She prayed silently that they would find Stephanie back at the hotel apartment; that this was just another of her foolish games. But when they arrived at the Albany, and Gray escorted her from the lift upstairs to open the door for her, all was in darkness, and Stephanie's room was empty.

'Get some sleep,' Gray told Carol, grey-faced. 'You're worn out. I'll take over from here.' He left her swaying off to her bedroom, closing the door after him as he went out.

Numb with fatigue, Carol undressed. She felt a strong urge to burst into tears at the empty room next door, but she knew it would do no good. And besides, Stephanie would be all right wherever she was. She
had,
to be all right. Sure she wouldn't sleep, Carol sank into bed and lay thinking, her mind raw with worry. But after a while she fell into an uneasy doze. She slept fitfully until morning.

She went down to breakfast at the usual time. Gray was waiting for her in the foyer. His face drawn from lack of sleep, he told her as they walked into the restaurant, 'I've got everyone out looking for her. We can do nothing now but wait.'

Wait! If Carol lived to be a hundred she would never forget those days. She rose mechanically each morning, ate mechanically opposite Gray at meal-times and fell into bed drained at night. During the rest of her waking hours she paced the apartment, hurrying to the balcony windows every few moments in the hope of spotting a familiar dark-haired little figure down below.

There was no news of Stephanie. No one had seen her after she had taken the launch to Venice. She had disappeared as surely as if she had never been.

Carol became a thin shadow of herself. She found it difficult to eat. Although careworn himself, Gray made her tackle some of every course when they dined in the lightly populated restaurant. 'Your cracking up is not going to help anything,' he told her tightly.

A week after the nightmare had begun he was badgering her as usual at the lunch table when a sudden thought made him stop in mid-sentence and snap his fingers, 'Aniello! If anyone can find Stephanie, he can. He knows Venice inside out.'

'But he's finished doing the guide trips now, surely.' Carol didn't dare let her spirits rise.

'The hotel will know where he is.' Gray rose and went off at once.

The little guide didn't take much locating. He arrived dtiring the afternoon. Carol and Gray were waiting for him in the hotel lounge. Having heard briefly what the trouble was he marched up to them, his smiling face creased with concern.

He sat in an armchair and listened to all that Gray had to say. When he had finished Aniello rose to his diminutive height and said with that dynamic assurance of his, 'I will do what I can.' But his sympathetic smile was a way of saying gently, 'Don't expect too much.'

He left them to return immediately to Venice.

Carol spent the rest of the afternoon drifting round the apartment. It was impossible to settle to anything. She went into Stephanie's bedroom for the hundredth time and fingered over her possessions. Any sound from below sent her flying immediately to the balcony windows, but it was always just the trickle of guests wandering in the grounds.

The clientele of the Albany was now mainly elderly couples and tired business men and their wives, taking an autumn break, or escaping for a few days from the rigours of the city. Carol was used to seeing Gray, looking harassed, passing the time of day with one or another of the guests down there on the terrace.

On one of her vigilant trips out on to the balcony towards the end of the afternoon, she spotted him standing in the fading sunshine, beside a tall thick-set man and a smaller attractive woman. Watching his earnest conversation, Carol swung away impatiently and went back to her pacing inside. How could he just stand there talking? she asked herself, bursting with tearful frustration. They ought to be out looking for Stephanie, or at least doing
something.