Treacherous Longings. Anne Mather

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      It was late afternoon when she finally turned off the word processor. Normally she would have worked on until suppertime, but it was Friday and she had to meet Jake from the ferry. Fridays were always special, with her son’s return and the prospect of the weekend ahead to look forward to. She seldom worked when he was around. They enjoyed spending time together.

      Earlier in the day, she had prepared Jake’s favourite meal of pizza followed by sticky toffee pudding and ice-cream, and all she had to do when they came home was put them in the oven. Not the ice-cream, of course, she thought humorously as she set the kitchen table for two. Anything cold had to be kept in the freezer, or else it dissolved into an unappetising soup.

      It was getting dark when she left the villa, but she knew the route to the small town of San Jacinto blindfold. She had driven this way countless times before, though it never failed to charm her.

      Her villa was at the south-western end of the island, approximately five miles from the town. The road wound its way inland for a distance, twisting among palms and flowering shrubs before seeking the coastal track again, where shallow cliffs and rocky outcrops made fantastic shapes in the fading light. It was a narrow road, sprouting weeds in places, and always at the mercy of the crowding vegetation. Unlike other islands, there was no shortage of water on San Jacinto, and plants and shrubs grew lushly in its rich, verdant soil. Julia was always fascinated by the orchids. She’d never seen them growing wild before.

      She passed no one on the road, though she did pass several other dwellings. The island doctor, Henry Lefevre, and his wife, Elena, lived next door, and further along the coast she skirted the Jacob plantation. Bernard Jacob grew sugar-cane and sweet potatoes, producing his own very potent spirit that he exported to the United States.

      The tiny village of West Bay, where Maria lived, was on the way, too. When Jake was home he spent a lot of his time in West Bay, playing with Maria’s two sons and three daughters. Julia had always been thankful that he had Maria’s children to play with, though the fact that he was an only child occasionally caused some friction.

      Jake could never understand why, if she had had one child without a husband, she couldn’t have two. She knew he would have loved a brother or sister of his own. But Julia had no intention of making that mistake again.

      San Jacinto was roughly horseshoe-shaped, with the port of San Jacinto situated on the inner curve of the stretch of water known simply as the Sound. To reach the town, Julia had to cross the island at its narrowest point and then negotiate the descent from towering cliffs, which were the highest point on the island.

      The town was busy. The return of the ferry, which only ran three times a week, was always a source of some excitement to its inhabitants. San Jacinto got few visitors, but the islanders were sociable people and there was always the anticipation of meeting someone new.

      Julia, however, avoided newcomers whenever possible. Fortunately, those tourists who did come were obliged to stay at one of the two boarding establishments near the harbour, and although they could hire Mokes for touring the island her property was sufficiently remote to deter trespassers.

      The ferry was in sight across the bay, and Julia parked her open-topped four-by-four beside the sea-wall and sat for several minutes just enjoying the view. With the sun sinking steadily behind the cliffs, the sky was a brilliant palette of colour. She could see every hint of red, shading through to magenta, with a lemony tinge to the clouds that heralded the night. They had a short twilight on the island, though not as short as it was nearer the equator. Here it was a much more civilised transformation, with a velvety breeze to offset the heat and cool her perspiring skin.

      ‘You expecting company, Mrs Stewart?’

      Ezekiel Hope, who ran one of the island’s two hotels, had come to prop himself against the bonnet of the Mitsubishi, and Julia gave up her contemplation of the view to get out of the vehicle and join him. She had stayed at the Old Rum House herself, while the villa was being dealt with, spending the latter half of her pregnancy on his veranda, sunning herself in one of his rattan chairs.

      ‘Just my son,’ she said now easily, drawing a navy sweater about her shoulders. She glanced towards the quay, where the ferry was steadily negotiating its docking. ‘Are you expecting visitors too? I suppose it is the season.’

      ‘Just one visitor,’ replied Ezekiel carelessly, flexing his gleaming biceps beneath the thin cotton of his vest. Zeke, as he was commonly known, was proud of his muscular torso. Although he was in his sixties, he assured everyone that he could still hold his own with the most obstreperous of his customers.

      Julia refused to be alarmed by his answer. Nor had she any intention of asking who his visitor might be. She had heard that that man—Neville? Yes, Neville Hager, that had been his name—had stayed at the Old Rum House too when he was here. And she had no wish to draw attention to the fact or arouse Zeke’s curiosity.

      ‘You had another visitor yourself, couple weeks ago, didn’t you, Mrs Stewart?’ Zeke remarked after a moment, thereby restoring all of Julia’s fears. ‘Said he was looking for a Ms Harvey, isn’t that right?’ He shrugged. ‘I told him we didn’t have no Ms Harvey on the island, but he seemed to think you might be able to help him.’

      ‘But I couldn’t,’ said Julia shortly, and Zeke gave her an apologetic look.

      ‘I know that. And I hope you didn’t mind me telling him you were the only English lady we got living on San Jacinto, Mrs Stewart,’ he added. ‘If’n I hadn’t, someone else surely would’ve. And it’s no secret, is it? I mean, you’ve been here a long, long time.’

      ‘A long time,’ agreed Julia tightly, looking rather apprehensively towards the ship. Would Jake see her here, if she didn’t go to meet him? she wondered. She’d prefer to keep a low profile until the other passengers had disembarked.

      To her relief, Zeke wandered off as the alighting travellers came down the gangplank. Many of the passengers were islanders, returning from a day-trip to Grand Cayman. On the days the ferry ran, it was possible to arrive in George Town at lunchtime, do some shopping, and catch the late afternoon sailing from the harbour. From her vantage point along from the quay, Julia recognised several of the local women, laden down with carrier bags.

      She saw Jake at once. Although he was dark, like the other children, his hair was straight, not curly. At present he insisted on wearing it long on top and short at the back, and his ears stuck out endearingly. But in his school uniform of white shirt and maroon shorts his appearance was unmistakable anyway, even if his tie was loose, his collar was unbuttoned and his jacket was draped untidily over one shoulder.

      She had started towards him when she saw the man following him down the gangplank. Among so many dark and suntanned faces his comparatively pale olive-coloured skin was a notable contrast, and she guessed this was the visitor Zeke had spoken about. That it wasn’t Neville Hager was some comfort. If his paper was going to continue its enquiries, it had evidently decided to send someone else. But wasn’t that a paranoid conclusion? she chided herself. The majority of visitors to San Jacinto came because of the good diving. And some of them came alone, from England and the United States.

      Suppressing the impulse to stay where she was, Julia continued towards the quay. Jake had seen her and he waved cheerfully, his haversack banging against his legs as he quickened his pace. He really needed a new haversack, she thought, noticing how the old one was bulging at the seams. Jake stuffed everything into that bag: school-books, trainers, computer games, the lot! Not to mention his dirty laundry, which Julia knew from previous experience would be rolled up at the bottom.

      ‘Hi, Ma,’ he said disrespectfully, СКАЧАТЬ