Across the Lagoon (7 page)

The meal over, they put the tray outside the door and prepared to relax. Carol knew by her aching body that she was very tired after her early morning rise. Yet when she lay on the bed and tried to doze she found it impossible. Her mind was far too alive and active in her new surroundings; her nerves tense with excitement at the thought of the journey tomorrow. She had never flown in a plane before.

After a while she gave up the idea of sleep, and rising, she went to get her handbag. She had forgotten about the postcards. That would give her something to do for die afternoon. It gave her a new thrill to browse through the colourful scenes she had chosen. There were four in all, so she had plenty to keep her busy.

She tried to pack as much news as she could on the back of each card. Seated at the bedside table, her face glowingly absorbed in her task, she became aware only gradually that Stephanie was watching her. Stretched out on her bed holding her magazine, the younger girl asked, her eyes on the cards, 'Who are you writing to?'

'My parents,' Carol replied, smiling, 'and two of my - younger sisters.'

Stephanie digested this slowly. Then, her face registering a certain coldness, she returned to her magazine.

For Carol the main highlight of the afternoon was , the arrival of their clothes from the store. Hers came in a brand new leather suitcase. Stephanie's were still in their boxes. She dispensed with them emotionlessly, transferring the contents to her expensive equipage.

As it grew nearer the time to go downstairs, the girls went in turns to take a leisurely bath in the bathroom along the corridor. Afterwards Carol drifted about uncertainly in her bathrobe. She wasn't at all sure what she ought to wear for dinner in a hotel. She saw nothing wrong in asking the younger girl's advice.

Flicking through her own clothes, Stephanie said with a sigh, 'Oh, Gray will expect us to wear something grand, I suppose.'

Carol mused on the reply as she turned to her suitcase. So his niece called him Gray, then, not Uncle.

In view of what she had been told Carol chose one of her new dresses to wear. It was in shell-pink crepe and had a broad pastel-embroidered sash stitched up high under the bosom of the sleeveless bodice. She felt very regal in it, and not at all gauche, which was her usual experience whenever she dressed up for an occasion.

The pink went quite well with her pale hair, she thought. Her complexion had a fresh scrubbed look, but she had never been able to get on with paint and powder on her face, and she saw no reason to start now.

Stephanie with an equally scrubbed face looked very demure in a blue and white dress with a boat-shaped neck and tiny cap sleeves. Both in pale shoes, a handkerchief tucked away in some discreet place, they went out along the corridor and made their way down the carpeted staircase.

The foyer was lit with heavy candelabra-type chandeliers. People in evening dress were wandering about near the various archways. One or two stood around as though waiting to be joined by others. The noise of the Saturday night traffic sounded from the open doors.

Carol saw Gray Barrett quite clearly while they were still on the stairs. He was standing near the restaurant archway talking to an elderly man with a military bearing and luxuriant white moustache. She knew Stephanie's uncle had seen them just as clearly coming down the stairs, but he made no attempt to round off his conversation with the other man as they trailed across the foyer to him and hung about.

Stephanie regarded the hold-up as a matter of course, letting her glance roam idly around while they waited. Carol, lacking the younger girl's poise, and blazingly conscious of herself before the dozens of eyes in the foyer, found every second that they stood there an eternity. She had ample time to notice Gray Barrett's perfectly cut suit of pale grey check, his crisply combed dark hair and clean-shaven somewhat craggy jaw.

She breathed an inward sigh of relief when at last the two men broke up. Expressing a wish that all would go well with the Italian trip, the elderly man gave a last wave and moved off. As he went, Gray Barrett acknowledged the parting comment with a dry one of his own, then he turned and shepherded the girls before him into the restaurant.

The tables draped with white cloths were circular and spaciously arranged. The heavy silverware and tall pillars gave the room a dated elegance. The three of them were led to a table beside the windows. Stephanie chose to sit with her back to them looking into the room. Her uncle took the chair facing her. Carol sat in the side place between them.

They were served immediately with a soup, hot and savoury, then a meat dish. Carol held her knife and fork with trembling hands. She was terrified of committing a blunder, of picking up the wrong item of cutlery in Gray Barrett's presence.

A sheen on her pale hair from the muted glow of the lights, her arms thin and bare, she ate with a sparrowlike timidity. Though she was too afraid to lift her eyes much from her plate, she was aware of the room crowded with diners, of the general relaxed atmosphere, the hum of voices, the clink of tableware, the occasional thread of laughter rising above the background of taped music.

With the meal well under way it became much the same at her own table. Stephanie seemed to come alive now that her uncle was no longer occupied with business matters and she had him just across the table from her. Her brown eyes shone as she made comments to him about the food and about the people in the room. Quite obviously she adored him.

But though she seemed to want to claim the whole of her uncle's attention, Carol got the impression that half the time he didn't even know his niece was there. When he wasn't talking to the waiter or frowning over the wine list he was mainly occupied with the leisurely conversation taking place between himself and two middle-aged business men at the next table, men with whom he appeared to be mildly acquainted.

Throughout the evening the topics centred around government policy on this and that, and the latest news on the Stock Exchange. Carol even found herself relaxing under cover of the dreary conversation. She discovered she needn't crouch over her plate quite so rigidly, and sitting back a little she was able to let her gaze wander at times over the room.

Gradually she got to the point where she was secretly enjoying the occasion. The food was deliciously cooked. There was so much to see in the gaunt Victorian atmosphere of the room; red-faced colonel types dining with their ladies, an Indian couple in colourful dress, and several matronly ladies, one of whom had a gorgeous white toy poodle which would keep jumping about on its hind legs.

No one appeared to be in any hurry to tear themselves away from the restaurant. The waiters served the courses leisurely, the music played on discreetly in the background and time drifted pleasantly by. Apparently one took the whole of the evening to dine in London.

When at last the tables started to empty, Gray Barrett nodded a farewell to his business friends and led the way out into the foyer. Though he himself was obviously heading for the bar he made it clear that the girls should go to their room and get to bed. He told them, in his crisp tones, to be all packed and down at eight in the morning for breakfast. Then with a brisk 'Goodnight,' he left them drifting towards the stairs.

Carol was in no mood to care one way or the other about being packed off to bed. She was thrilled at the way she had spent her Saturday night. Anything further would only have shattered her dreamy contentment. Besides, there was tomorrow to look forward to, and Italy!

She felt the thick carpet of the staircase beneath her feet. At the top, on a mischievous impulse, she flopped down on one of the big old-fashioned sofas with their blown-up-looking cushions and upholstery. Sinking into it, she laughed at Stephanie, 'Come on! It's fun.'

Stephanie, being young, patiently obliged, though her smile was strained and that animated light of earlier was missing now from her eyes.

When the girls turned they could see through the balustrade down to the foyer below. They stayed there for a while, peeping at the people coming and going, then the younger girl said, wearying of the game, 'Let's get to bed, shall We?'

The corridors were dimly lit. They went along to their room, switched on the light and closed the door behind them.

Stephanie wasted no time in preparing for bed. Carol thought that she might as well go too. She knew that beneath her excitement she was dreadfully weary, and an early night would probably be the wisest.

They each made trips to the bathroom to scrub their hands and faces for the night, returning with shining complexions, the fragrance of soap lingering around their bathrobes. When they had brushed their hair and slipped into nightwear, Carol padded to the door and switched out the light. The roadside lamps shone faintly through the heavy curtains, filled the room with a pale glow as she made for her bed. She slipped between the sheets and lay happily staring at the ceiling.

She thought of the day with all its emotional ups and downs, while she had tried to get used to the imperious ways of Gray Barrett. She thought about her family. She could just see them now, grouped around the television in the living room, some watching, the others causing chaos.

But most of all she thought of tomorrow and Italy. Was she really going abroad? She still couldn't believe it. She knew lots of girls who had already managed to see at least one foreign country, but the possibility of her doing the same herself had always seemed very remote. Now here she was. Her bags were packed, she had a brand-new passport, and tomorrow she would actually be flying!

What would it be like, speeding through the air for the first time? She was casting her mind back to all the girlish chatter she had heard describing the experience, when a faint sound came to her ears.

She listened. It was coming from the other bed, the muffled sound of weeping.

Raising herself quickly on her elbows, she asked in the darkness, 'Stephanie, is anything the matter?'

'No, nothing,' came the sniffling reply, and impatiently, 'For goodness' sake go to sleep!'

Carol dropped back on to the pillow again. Her heart ached as she listened to the stifled gulps beneath the bedclothes. She felt ashamed now of her own high spirits. The sniffs in the darkness sobered her into seeing the other side of the picture. For her the trip tomorrow was something new and exciting, whereas for Stephanie it was just another dreary round of filling in the time until school started again.

Feelingly, Carol resolved to do all she could to make the young girl's summer in Italy a happy one.

The alarm of the little travelling clock on the bedside table went off at precisely seven-thirty. The two girls rose promptly. They had nothing to do but wash and dress and slip their nightwear and toilet things into their cases. Carol wished she could have borrowed some of Stephanie's calm. Her stomach had a funny butterfly ache in it, and she felt weak from nervous tension.

The younger girl, showing no signs of the tears of last night, was wearing a plain day dress in bottle green, so Carol decided to make do with her check suit again and a slightly less fussy blouse.

They went downstairs a few minutes after eight. Gray Barrett was pacing the foyer as though they were hours late. Carol irritated him further by stopping to drop her postcards in the box beside the reception desk.

The atmosphere in the restaurant was vastly different from that of last night. Most of the tables were empty. The ones that weren't were occupied by grumpy tired- looking individuals, and the only sound to break the cold silence of the early morning was the waiters' whispered footsteps over the carpet and the muted clatter from the kitchens in the distance.

Carol found it difficult to get any breakfast down. She was grateful most for the big cup of milky coffee which soothed her churning insides.

There was no lingering about this morning. After breakfast there was barely time for the girls to go up to their room for a final tidy up, before the porter was knocking on the door to carry their luggage down.

They hurried down to the foyer, only to find themselves hanging about beside the cases. Carol gazed with knotted-up insides across the space. It was just typical of Gray Barrett, she thought, to have them scurrying around upstairs and then take his time at the reception desk.

She watched him passing the time of day with one or two other departing guests as he went through the business of paying the bill. She noticed that he was never short of something to say when he was in masculine company. She supposed he was what her father would call 'a man's man'.

She moved her gaze away and, like Stephanie, whiled away the moments watching the early morning movement in the foyer. She saw the woman of the Indian couple disappear through an archway in a brilliant pink sari and head shawl.

The click of a firm heel across the tiles heralded Gray Barrett's approach at last. With a snap of his fingers he had the cases carried out to the door. A taxi was hailed and drew in almost at once. All the luggage went into the space beside the driver.

Carol climbed in with Stephanie. She found it a bit disconcerting having Gray Barrett in the back with them. Of course he didn't sit with them. He used one of the pull-down seats facing theirs, and as the taxi started off he turned his preoccupied gaze out of the window.

He was seated opposite Stephanie, so at least Carol had breathing space. She felt she needed it. She wouldn't have known where to put herself if he had sat facing her. She fidgeted, trying to keep her gaze out of the window, but somehow it kept finding its way back into the car and skimming over his immaculate pastel blue shirt, the curling dark hair around his ear and his jutting clean-shaven jaw.

Of the taxi's movements, she knew vaguely that they were shunting along traffic-congested streets and speeding around corners. Finally they left the blare of the city behind and took to the fast-moving motorway.

To Carol it seemed an interminable ride. She felt jaded already and they had only just started the journey. Her interest picked up when views of the airfield started to appear. She saw planes in the distance spread- eagled on the ground. Her heart took a dive when one rose up with a roar and streaked off straight as an arrow into the sky. She felt quite limp when they alighted from the taxi outside the airport building.