mental condition is real, how much is pretence on her part; and how much you yourself are responsible for.’
‘I?’ His face was dark with anger.
‘Yes, you. You keep things from her—like not letting her remember her husband died. Every day you go along with her fantasy, you make it more real for her. But what if you died? Got drowned, as he did? It happens. What would become of her then? You have no right to keep a human being as a sort of Sleeping Beauty.’
‘ No right ? I am the master of this household. I have every right. You as my guest have no right—if I may respectfully remind you—to call my treatment of my mother into question.’
‘ No, I haven’t,’ she admitted quietly. ‘ And I apologise. But I may respectfully remind you that you did ask me what I thought. Why ask questions, if you don’t want any answers?’
Sky and sea were violet now, after the sunset. He moved abruptly to the edge of the balcony and stared down. Presently he said in a normal voice,
‘ Come here, Jan.’ She went to him. He pointed to a headland far below, a dark diamond shape jutting out into the sea. ‘ See that light? It’s a castle. You’ll see it by daylight plainly enough. It has been made habitable, and is occupied by a very old friend of our family. He is Bianca’s godfather and fond of her. When he sees her up here, he likes to wave. If he does so, it would be kind of you to wave back.’
‘ Another fantasy? You want to make him believe I’m Bianca?’
He turned to look at her. When he spoke, there was no rancour in his tone. ‘ Is that wrong? He is old and lonely. It’s a game they play, and if it gives him pleasure, surely you can co-operate.’
‘ It’s a silly game. Suppose Bianca writes to him, sends him a postcard, while she’s away?’
‘ She is not likely to.’
‘ Why?’
‘ Because I say so. Don’t ask so many questions. If you don’t want to make the old man happy for a few moments each day, then don’t. Let him feel lonely. He’s used to it.’
‘ I’ll do it. If, he’s so lonely, why not pop down for a chat?’
‘ It’s ten miles by the road, and while I’m at the Villa I need to be near the telephone. I’m expecting an urgent call—business.’
‘Goodness! Is that what being a tycoon means? You can’t leave the house at all?’
‘ Not till I’ve had this call. So you’ll wave?’
She relented. Why be critical? These people weren’t her family, nor her patients. She had no responsibility for them, beyond the normal courtesies of a guest. Then at least she should accept her position as guest, and fall in with her host’s wishes.
‘ I’ll wave. Trust me.’
He touched her elbow lightly. ‘ Good girl! Thank you. Now I’ll follow my mother and retire. I’ve been missing some sleep lately and it is beginning to tell. I breakfast at seven here on the terrace. Ring when you’re ready for yours. Goodnight, English Jan. Have a happy time and feel this is your home.’
For dinner, he had changed into a white suit which, even more than that which he had worn in Rome, showed off his broad shoulders and slim waist. One day soon, she thought, I’ll see him in a swim suit and he will look like a Greek god and that golden tan of his will be all-over. He will be perfectly muscled and swim like a fish. If he wasn’t so bad-tempered and touchy, he’d be perfect.
The night was too warm, too beautiful to leave. The moon rode high. The scents of the garden were heavier now; lilies, the vanilla scent of broom and the long white bracts of acacia blossom. Jan stretched out on the deep cushions of a long cane chair, and sighed contentedly. The nurses at the hostel would never believe a word of this.
You’re making it up, Jan! But go on! What was he like?
Dreamy, she’d tell them. Dark eyes, almost black. Dark hair, a strong face, a voice like dark brown velvet. And charming. He kissed my hand.
Someone would giggle, I don’t believe you !
True every word. And at