‘Look Markwhy don’t you get yourself a coffee or something, I’ve got a littlelast-minute shopping, souvenirs for a couple of friends, I’ll onlybe half an hour at most then we’ll get the ferry across to theisland.’
***
As the ferrypulled out from the harbour and headed for the island, Gemmasettled back to run things over in her mind. Fortunately the moneyhadn’t proved to be too much of a problem. The counter clerk at thepost office didn’t seem fazed by her asking if she could depositand then transfer the cash; it would be open until six o’clock aswell, which would give her plenty of time to get back to the shipagain to collect her bags and the money. The clerk assured her thatit might even be in her account when she got back home.Surprisingly it had all seemed a good deal more straightforward andcivilised than she imagined it would have been inEngland.
There weren’tmany on their particular ferry to Lokrum. An elderly couple,dressed in matching khaki, explorer-type outfits, two single menboth equipped with binoculars, presumably planning to examine someparticular inhabitants or species found on the island and ayoungish lad who seemed to know the crew and might just have beenalong for the boat trip. It was November, of course, and althoughbright was also quite cold. They were on the Skala, which alongwith the Zrinski was one of the two city-owned boats that made theregular trips between the port and Lokrum. Both it and its crew oftwo weather-beaten, and presumably local, men looked as if they’dbeen doing the journey for years. As it motored through the channelbetween their cruise ship and the nearside shore of Lokrum, Gemmasnuggled up to Mark. No harm in keeping him unaware and occupied.She could see he was contented and wondered for a fleeting momentwhether perhaps he had changed his mind, and even if she might havesomehow got it wrong. He’d even told her over breakfast that lastnight had made him realise how much he wanted her back. Anyway,that was his look out. She put the thought out of her mind: he’dtried to rip her off, there was no way she wanted him and, even ifshe had, she’d never have trusted him again. Once a manipulativebastard always one, she figured.
They moored at thelittle jetty toward the south end of the island. The small snackbar gave the appearance of being open, the tables and chairs wereset out for business although there was no one around, and no signof any waiter. Gemma suggested they walk up to the middle of theisland where the now deserted monastery was and then over toLokrum’s own little Dead Sea. They had been told it was a naturaland quite deep salt-filled lake that was easy enough to swimin.
‘I love swimming butit’s probably too cold to do that today, still we can have a lookand then get something to eat when we come back, if anyone actuallyappears to serve us.’
She found her thoughtprocesses going into overdrive when Mark replied that he had neverreally liked or been any good at swimming anyway.
They set offon the well-marked path to the former Benedictine monastery. Therehad only been the one ferry trip so far that morning and as Gemmaand Mark headed out across the island it felt as if they were theonly ones there; the silence was quite eerie, almost palpable. Thepath wound up through a mass of shrubbery and small trees that hadmostly lost their foliage. At this time of year, the desertedmonastery could be seen from a few hundred yards away; no doubt inthe spring and summer it would have been quite hidden untilactually stumbled upon. They walked through the cloisters, whichunlike most of the monastery had remained pretty much unchanged,and had a quick look at the overgrown gardens and courtyard beforefollowing a helpfully positioned if slightly decrepit signpost toMrtove More, the local name for the Dead Sea.
It only took afew more minutes to reach. As it came into view they were bothtaken aback: it was a stunning sight even on a chilly autumnal day,and it just didn’t seem to fit the rest of the island. Itresembled, almost, a mini resort but carved out of the ground.There was a small sort of beach area near where the path had endedand some flat rocks to each side but the sea itself was still andvery dark. Across from the would-be beach, and on the other side ofthe lake, there were steep rocks forming a small cliff, probablylittle more than thirty yards away, with the water lapping gentlyagainst them. It was a clear, bright day and they could make outthe Adriatic Sea beyond the far side of the island itself. It wouldhave been the ideal place to while away a summer’s day.
‘Wow, this ispretty smart.’
Gemma flinched, whydid Mark have to adopt some kind of American lilt for no obviousreason? It was time to confront him. She knew she couldn’t keepthings bottled up much longer.
‘Let’s wander roundto the other side, it looks like we’ll get a good view from overthere; apparently the water’s so deep that people can dive offthose rocks in the summer.’
Gemma wasn’t certainwhy she had suggested that, they certainly weren’t planning to goswimming. It just seemed like the right place to sort things out.In any case Mark seemed happy enough to let her take thelead.
‘Sure, it’slovely here, not that I’m planning any swimming; like I said, it’snot really my thing anyway.’
Once they hadscrambled round to the rocks overhanging the far side of the lake,Gemma launched into it.
‘Listen Mark,do you think I’m some kind of bloody idiot? I know that you’veripped me off, you bastard, and obviously have no intention ofcoming back to England tonight or even at all. Just what the fuckdo you think you’re playing at?’
She hadn’t said shehad already found and taken the money; that could come later. Shecould see his shock at first and then, almost immediately and ifshe hadn’t known him better almost imperceptibly, his desperatesearch
