The Spaniard's Revenge. Susan Stephens

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      ‘Welcome to Peru, Dr Ford!’

      A genuine beam of delight split the older woman’s face from ear to ear, displaying an enviable set of strong white teeth. ‘I’m Lola,’ she said, cocking her head to one side. Then she sighed wearily as she turned to view the man hovering in her substantial shadow. ‘And this is my husband, Juan.’

      ‘You speak English,’ Sophie said with relief, returning the smile as she extended her hand. ‘As you guessed, I’m Sophie Ford, a new doctor with the project. I’m very pleased to meet you, Lola. And I’m relieved to—’

      ‘Not as relieved as I am to have another woman around the place,’ Lola interrupted, bustling past her into the clinic. ‘Take the bike,’ she instructed Juan. ‘Put it away. Mind you stand it up properly.’

      Sophie smiled. Something told her this wasn’t the first time Juan had received his orders for the day from Lola. ‘Bike?’ she said ingenuously, following Lola into the clinic, the kernel of an idea beginning to take shape in her mind.

      ‘Sí,’ Lola said, moving behind the improvised counter to check the boxes Xavier had found time to bring in from the truck before he left.

      Sophie tried again. ‘You arrived here on a bike?’ The image of Lola and Juan teetering along together on a pushbike seemed unlikely, particularly as Xavier had said the next village was quite a distance away.

      ‘Sí,’ Lola said with a heavy sigh. ‘This man of mine is a little crazy,’ she confided fondly, twirling a finger around her head to illustrate the point. ‘He thinks he is a Hell’s Angel.’

      ‘Ah, a motorbike.’ A motorbike! Sophie could hardly contain her excitement. Her idea was rapidly blossoming into a fully fledged plan. ‘Could I borrow it?’

      ‘Borrow it! For what? Where would you go?’ Lola declaimed, her eyes as large as saucers. ‘No, Dr Ford,’ she said firmly. ‘This is not your London with traffic lights and zebras crossing. This is Peru, with spectacled bears and monkeys!’

      ‘Wonderful!’ Sophie said as her mind took a flight over the rugged terrain. She hadn’t even known there were bears in Peru. Well, except for Paddington, of course, who, according to the luggage tag thoughtfully placed around his neck by Michael Bond, the author of his bear-tales, came from Darkest Peru.

      Gradually Sophie became aware of Lola’s curious glances and realised what a great first impression she was giving—a daydreaming doctor with hair sticking out all over her head, bare feet, and a rumpled top she’d slept in—hardly an image to inspire confidence in the patients. ‘What I mean is,’ she tried again, running her fingers through her hair in a failed attempt to tame it, ‘would you let Juan take me to find Xavier? You see,’ she said, uncomfortable with the lie, but forced to go on with it, ‘I overslept this morning, and he had to leave without me…’

      Maybe it was the sheer desperation in her voice that had persuaded Lola to loan out her husband for the day, Sophie decided, clinging to Juan’s scrawny form as he leaned low over the handlebars. Right now, Sophie wished she hadn’t! The bike’s bald tyres kept skimming the edge of the narrow track, and beyond that there was a sheer drop half hidden in cloud. There was no point trying to say anything to Juan. He couldn’t hear a thing with the wind whistling in his ears. All Sophie could do was close her eyes.

      She felt the ground smooth out abruptly and then her eyes flew open in alarm as Juan executed a wide, skidding turn. The first thing Sophie knew of the fall was staring at the dusty ground, wondering how she got there. The next few impressions came in a rush all at once. Xavier’s feet by her face, his voice like a report from a gun: ‘Estúpida!’ Shock that stopped her breathing for a few moments… And pain—in her leg, in her head, on her hands—everywhere. She shook him off furiously when he went to haul her to her feet.

      ‘What are you doing here, Xavier?’ Sophie struggled to recapture what little remained of her dignity, swiping dust from her face, mouth and hands while she waited for his explanation.

      ‘I heard the bike,’ he growled in a menacing tone, putting his face very close up to hers. ‘Sound travels in the mountains.’

      He went to check her over, but Sophie broke away. ‘So, where the hell am I?’ she said, looking around. The groomed track where she was standing and the impressive gates in front of her might have been constructed to harmonise with nature but they smacked of high-spending tourists, not local patients.

      Ignoring her question for the moment, Xavier turned to Juan. ‘Why have you brought Dr Ford here?’

      ‘I’m sorry. Dr Ford insisted—’

      ‘Never mind,’ Xavier said, resting his hand on Juan’s shoulder. ‘Go and get yourself something to eat and drink before you start back.’ He turned back to Sophie and looked her up and down. ‘Are you all right?’ he demanded sharply. His glance took in the bloodstains on the leg of her jeans.

      ‘Where is this?’ Sophie demanded tensely, ignoring his question. ‘Well? Are you going to tell me, or shall I just go and find out for myself?’ She tipped her chin in the direction Juan had taken. ‘I take it this road leads somewhere? Somewhere grand?’ she suggested acerbically.

      ‘Does your leg hurt?’ Xavier persisted, seeing her wince as she put her weight on it.

      ‘Don’t change the subject,’ Sophie warned. ‘Well, Xavier, are you going to answer me or not?’

      He backed up a few steps and shot a glance at the sign she now saw was discreetly concealed in some shrubbery. ‘This is the Rancho del Condor, a luxury lodge and spa,’ he said evenly, ‘and you look like you could use a bath.’

      Sophie’s lips compressed in an angry line. ‘The Rancho del Condor!’

      ‘Come,’ he said, waving her forward. ‘Now that you’re here I’d better take a look at that leg.’

      ‘I can deal with it myself, thank you. I take it there’s antiseptic at the Rancho—’ Abruptly her voice faltered and she swayed towards him. Shock, Sophie realised hazily, hands flailing desperately as she grabbed on to the only thing that was stable within her reach—Xavier.

      ‘What am I going to do with you?’ he demanded sharply. What indeed? he mused, supporting her around the waist. But then he was forced to reel in his baser instincts. He could feel her trembling. She was badly shaken up. Maybe she had concussion. He’d have to check her over thoroughly. ‘You could have been killed,’ he pointed out, stabbing a look at her. ‘And then—’

      ‘And then what? You’d care?’ Sophie demanded, angry with herself, with Xavier, with everything.

      ‘And then I’d be short of one doctor,’ he countered smoothly.

      By the time they made it round the corner and the full splendour of her new surroundings was revealed, Sophie had recovered sufficiently to shake herself free. ‘Oh, I see!’ She narrowed her eyes, taking it all in. The immaculately groomed site was cosily sandwiched between towering rock faces, which provided the topographic equivalent of a heat-retaining soup bowl. But it was the buildings that really captured her attention. An indolent sprawl of tented pavilions, or wood-framed villas, she saw on closer inspection, draped with some flowing material to give them the appearance of rather glamorous rustic dwellings. But there was nothing remotely rustic about the Rancho del Condor, she realised tensely СКАЧАТЬ