September

fountain, and the distant, gentle clangour of sheep bells. The mountains now were close by, their summits bleached and barren, their lower slopes silvery with groves of olive.

They got slowly and gratefully out of the car, stretching their sweaty limbs. Up here, so high, there was a breeze blowing off the sea, cool and refreshing. Lucilla, looking about her, saw that the Casa Rosa stood on a rocky bluff above them, the main entrance reached by a flight of steps. The risers of these steps were set with blue- and-white tiles, and pots of geraniums stood sentry all the way to the top. As well, all was entwined by a torrent of purple bougainvillaea; and hibiscus grew, and plumbago, and a tangle of azure-blue morning glory. The air was sweet with flowery scents mingled with the damp smell of newly watered earth.

So amazing was it all, so unlike anything they had previously experienced, that for a moment neither of them could think of anything to say. Then Lucilla whispered, 'I'd no idea it would be as grand as this!'

'Well, one thing's for sure, we can't stand here all day.'

'No.' He was right. Lucilla turned towards the first step, leading the way. But before she had mounted the first step, the silence was broken by the sound of sharp heel-taps, hurrying along the terrace above them.

'Darlings!' A figure appeared at the head of the stairs, arms outstretched in welcome. 'I heard the car. You've come. And you've not lost the way. How clever you are and how perfect to see you.'

Lucilla's first impression of Pandora was one of insubstantial thinness. She looked ethereal, as though at any moment she might blow away. Embracing her was like holding a little bird. You didn't want to hug too hard in case she snapped in two. Her hair was chestnut brown, swept back from her forehead and falling, in frondy curls, to her shoulders. Lucilla guessed that Pandora had worn her hair that way when she was eighteen and had never seen any reason to change the style. Her eyes were dark grey, shadowed by sooty black lashes, and her curving mouth full and sweet. On her right cheek, just above the corner of her upper lip, was a round dark beauty spot, too sexy to be called a mole. She was dressed in loose pyjamas of the brilliant pink of the hibiscus flowers, and there were gold chains around her neck and knots of gold in her ears. She smelled… Lucilla knew that scent. Poison. She had tried wearing it herself but could never decide whether she loved it or hated it. Smelling it on Pandora, she was stil! not certain.

'I'd have known you were Lucilla, even if nobody had told me. You look so like Archie…' It seemed that she did not even notice their unsavoury appearance, their soiled cut-off shorts and grubby T-shirts. And if she did, she gave no indication of objecting. 'And you must be Jeff…' She held out a pink-tipped hand. 'How wonderful that you could come with Lucilla.'

He took it in his own enormous paw and, looking a bit overwhelmed by her welcome and her dazzling smile, said, 'Pleased to meet you.'

She picked up his accent at once. 'You're an Australian! How heavenly. I don't think I've ever had an Australian here before. Did you have a hideous drive?'

'No. Not at all. Just hot.'

'You must be longing for a drink…'

'Shall we get our stuff out of the car…?'

'You can do that later. A drink first. Come along, I've a friend here for you to meet.'

Lucilla's heart sank. It didn't matter about Pandora, but they were certainly in no shape to be introduced to company. 'Pandora, we're dreadfully dirty…'

'Oh, heavens, that doesn't matter. He won't mind…' She turned from them and led the way, and there was no alternative but to follow, down a long shaded and airy terrace furnished with white cane and butter-yellow cushions and great blue-and-white porcelain jars planted with palms. 'He can't stay for very long and I want you to meet him…'

They turned the corner of the house and, hard on Pandora's tapping heels, stepped out into blinding sunshine. Lucilla longed for her sunglasses, left in the car. In a dazzle, she saw the wide, open terrace, shaded by striped awnings and paved in marble. Shallow steps led down from this to a spacious garden, massed with flowering trees and shrubs. Grass paths were set with flagged stepping-stones, and these encircled a swimming pool, aquamarine and still as glass. Just seeing it made Lucilla feel cooler. An inflatable sun-bed floated upon the surface of the water, drifting with the undercurrent of the filter.

At the far end of the garden, half hidden by hibiscus, she saw another house, small and single-storied, but with its own little terrace facing out over the pool. This was shaded by a tall umbrella pine, and beyond the ridge of its roof there was nothing to be seen but the brazen blue sky.

'Here they are, Carlos, safely arrived. My directions can't have been as confusing as we'd feared.' At the top of the steps, in the shade of the awning, stood a low table. On this was a tray with glasses and a tall jug. An ashtray, a pair of sunglasses, a paperback. More cane chairs, yellow-cushioned, stood about, and as they approached, a man rose from one of these and stood, smiling, waiting to be introduced. He was tall and dark-eyed and very handsome. 'Lucilla, darling, this is my friend Carlos Macaya. Carlos, this is Lucilla Blair, my niece. And Jeff…?'

'Howland,' Jeff supplied for her.

'And he's Australian. Isn't that exciting? Now, let's all sit down and have a lovely drink. This is iced tea, but I can get Seraphina to bring something stronger if you'd like. Coke maybe? Or wine?' She began to laugh. 'Or champagne? What a good idea. But perhaps a little early in the day. Let's save the champagne till later.'

They told her that iced tea would be perfect. Carlos drew forward a chair for Lucilla and then settled himself beside her. But Jeff, who could soak up sun like a lizard, went to lean on the balustrade of the terrace, and Pandora perched herself beside him, legs swinging and one high-heeled sandal dangling from a toe.

Carlos Macaya poured iced tea and handed Lucilla her glass.

'You have come from Ibiza?'

'Yes, this morning, on the boat.'

'How long were you there?' His English was perfect.

'A week. Staying with a friend of Jeff's. It was a lovely house but dreadfully primitive. Which is why we look so filthy. Because we are. I'm sorry.'

He made no comment on this; simply smiled in an understanding way. 'And before Ibiza?'

'I've been in Paris. That's where I met Jeff. I'm meant to be a painter, but there was so much to see and so much to do, I didn't achieve very much.'

'Paris is a wonderful city. Was this your first visit?'

'No, I'd been once before. I spent some time as an au pair, to learn the language.'

'And how did you get from Paris to Ibiza?'

'We thought of hitch-hiking but in the end we travelled by bus.

We did the journey in stops and starts, staying in gites, and taking time to do some sightseeing. Cathedrals and wine chateaux-that sort of thing.'

'You have not been wasting your time.' He glanced at Pandora, chattering away to Jeff, who watched her intently as though she were some strange species of wildlife that he had never before observed. 'Pandora tells me that this is the first time you have met each other.'

'Yes.' Lucilla hesitated. This man was probably Pandora's current lover, which meant that now was neither the time nor the place to enlarge on Pandora's youthful elopement and subsequent life-style. 'She was always abroad, you see. I mean, living abroad.'

'And your home is in Scotland?'

'Yes. In Relkirkshire. That's where my parents live.' A small pause fell. She took a mouthful of iced tea. 'Have you ever been to Scotland?' *

'No. I studied in Oxford for a couple of years' (that explained his English), 'but I never found time to go to Scotland.'

'We're always wanting Pandora to come back and see us, but she never will.'

'Perhaps she doesn't like the cold and the rain.'

'It isn't cold and rainy all the time. Only some of the time.'

He laughed. 'Whatever. It is a splendid thing that you have come to keep her company. And now…' He pushed back his silk cuff and glanced at his watch. It was a handsome and unusual watch, the numbers marked by tiny replicas of yachting pennants, and was strapped to his wrist by a heavy gold bracelet. Lucilla wondered if Pandora had given it to him. Perhaps the pennants spelt out 'I Love You' in naval code. '… it is time for me to take my leave. I hope you will excuse me but I have work to do…'