THE RELUCTANT BRIDE (23 page)

“
No.
Nothing.”

Another
stewardess was moving down the gangway, reminding passengers to
fasten their seatbelts. They were approaching Madeira.

The
thrust of the brakes that slammed her stomach into her spine as they
landed on one of the world's shortest runways, the wait for their
baggage in the airport building and the hunt for a taxi outside all
helped to divert her thoughts. It was too dark to see much on the
journey until they reached Funchal but there the elegant buildings,
the floodlit fountains and gardens and the bright promenade of
Madeirans and holidaymakers along the broad main street raised her
spirits. And then they were turning into the hotel grounds.

“
Mr
and Mrs Nicholson.” The words gave her a shock and she wandered
away from the hotel desk to a display of local leatherware in a glass
case. Gabriella Nicholson. Rod's wife.

There
seemed to be some delay. She looked across the foyer and could tell
from the rigidity of Rod's back and the way he gripped the counter
that he was angry. Then he was striding towards her.

“
Something's
gone wrong,” he said. “Some stupid clerk has assumed that
because we're Mr and Mrs Nicholson I couldn't possibly have meant it
when I requested two rooms and has booked us into one!”

She
stared at him, horror dawning. “But – they must have
other rooms?”

He
shook his head. “They haven't. Not for three days. They'll
transfer one of us then but in the meantime -”

“
You
did this deliberately!”

“
Oh,
for God's sake, Gabriella! I'll show you the email when we get back.
D'you really think I want to be stuck with you for twenty four hours
a day?”

“
Then
what are we going to do?”

“
This
is one of the three best hotels in Funchal. They've contacted the
other two but they're both full. I think it's too late to start
phoning around all over the city and I for one am tired. I suggest we
take it. At least it's got separate beds!”

Would
it be unreasonable to insist? Yes, she thought wearily, it probably
would.

At
least it's spacious, she admitted, when the manager himself, full of
apologies, had escorted them to the first floor room. And the beds
were separated by a large heavily carved chest of drawers.

When
the manager had gone Rod opened the French windows and stepped out on
to the balcony. “Gabriella? Come here.”

She
followed him out and gasped with delight. Before her eyes the lights
of Madeira in their thousands formed a huge starry backcloth to the
city of Funchal. They twinkled softly, with none of the harsh orange
glow of English city lights.

“
The
island rises straight out of the sea,” said Rod. “Beautiful,
isn't it?”

She
nodded wordlessly. After a few moments she became aware that he was
watching her.

“
Gabriella,”
he said. “We've both been under a lot of strain recently. I
think we both need a break. Don't you think we could – just –
let go and relax for a week? Be friends, in other words?”

She
wanted to say yes. But she knew, more than he did, how difficult it
would be.

“
This
is such a lovely place. It will be such a waste if we can't get any
pleasure from it.”

She
sighed. “You're right. I'll try.”

“
Shake
on it?” He took her hand in his large warm one and once again
she was taken back to their first meeting.

They
went downstairs and had a drink in one of the bars, where an elderly
man played softly on a piano. Romantic songs from the 20s and 30s.
Lover, As Time Goes By, You and the Night and the Music …
Afterwards they walked through the gardens of the hotel down to the
sea and watched the moon silver the horizon.

If
this were a proper honeymoon, she thought, this place would be
paradise.

In
their bedroom again Rod became practical. “If you'd like to use
the bathroom first and get changed I'll undress out here.” He
grinned. “And don't worry, I did bring pyjamas.”

She
escaped into the bathroom before the blush hit her cheeks.

Later
when they lay in their separate beds she wondered if she should read
the book she had brought with her or pretend to be asleep as soon as
her head hit the pillow.

But
Rod was yawning. “Goodnight, Gabriella,” he said and
switched off his lamp.

“
Goodnight,
Rod,” she said, and switched off hers.

In
the darkness she lay in the unfamiliar bed, as taut as a violin
string, waiting, wondering, wide-eyed, until at last she heard the
rhythm of Rod's breathing change to a sleep pattern. Then she too
closed her eyes and slept.

In
the morning they swam leisurely in the hotel pool, then watched the
cruise liners berthing in the small harbour just below the lawns.
They lunched al fresco on a vine-roofed terrace brilliant with the
flowers that bloomed everywhere. The flame-coloured strelitzia, the
most well known of Madeiran flowers, really did look like birds of
paradise and she made a mental note to take some back for her mother.

“
This
fish is delicious,” she said. “Is it local?”

“
Espada.
Apparently it lives so deep in the ocean under such pressure that no
one knows what it's really like. By the time it's brought to the
surface its shape has changed completely. It's a vicious looking
thing.”I

“
It
looks harmless enough on the place.”

He
smiled. “Wait till you see it in the fish market. Black and
shiny with teeth like a shark!”

Afterwards
they walked down the hill to the city centre and she was enchanted by
the flower sellers in their black caps, scarlet waistcoats and gaily
striped skirts.

“
There's
a famous shoe shop somewhere here,” said Rod. “Marvellous
leather boots and things. Lots of the cruise passengers make a
beeline for it when they're in port. We'll go and buy something later
in the week.”

“
You've
obviously been here before,” said Gabriella and was about to
ask, “Did you bring Caroline?” when he forestalled her.

“
I
came with the family just after I left University.”

She
was glad she hadn't spoken. It would have spoiled the pleasant mood
that had developed during the day.

Perhaps
they were both on their best behaviour but she found herself enjoying
Rod's company more and more. He was full of information on the places
and people they saw and he had a sense of fun that complemented her
own serious nature and enhanced her pleasure in the simple things
they did together. At night there was no awkwardness. Rod respected
her privacy so completely that the intimacy of their shared
accommodation very quickly ceased to bother her. Neither of them even
remembered that the manager had promised a transfer to separate rooms
during the week.

It
was on the third day that it all changed.

After
an early breakfast they set off by taxi for the heights of the
island. From there, carrying with them a picnic lunch, they planned
to walk one of the levadas, the picturesque irrigation canals that
ribboned down to the sea. The route Rod had chosen was a strenuous
one and although they stopped frequently to admire the eyecatching
panorama of lush green foliage spattered with the red roofed houses
of the Madeirans, Gabriella was grateful when at last they returned
to Funchal. She was exhausted and her head was beginning to swim.

“
The
best medicine for you, my girl, is a nice cool leisurely swim,”
said Rod.

“
Oh,
Heaven!” she murmured.

Back
at the hotel they changed into swimwear, collected towels and long
drinks from the poolside bar and retired to the shade of two loungers
under the trees.

“
Wonderful,”
she murmuredrowsily, relaxing her aching muscles one by one.

“
Don't
you want to swim first?”

“
Not
immediately. You go if you like.”

“
I
think I will.”

She
watched through half closed eyes as he walked across to the pool. He
walked like an animal, she thought suddenly. One of the big cats.
That slow smooth stride and the way the muscles of his shoulders and
back and hips and thighs all interacted. He dived into the pool and
streaked down its length, using a fast crawl. Two girls stopped to
watch and Gabriella felt a curious pang when she saw that one of them
was tall and unusually slender, with a mane of curling red hair. But
it wasn't Sue Langdon, although there was a quite striking
resemblance.

Rod
swam half a dozen lengths then pulled himself out of the pool. The
water ran from his thick black hair, from the gleaming copper of his
tanned body, and the eyes of the two girls were glued on him as he
strolled back to where Gabriella lay under the trees, picked up a
towel and began to dry himself.

“
The
water's marvellous. You should go in.”

“
I
may not bother.” The two girls had brought their loungers
closer to the trees and were laughing together, glancing frequently
at Rod. The red haired girl, smiling across at him, said something to
the other and Gabriella stiffened as he smiled lazily back. She rose
sharply to her feet.

He
caught her arm. “What's the matter?”

“
I'm
going inside.”

“
Why?
Aren't you well?”

“
I'm
perfectly well. Please let go of my arm.”

Instead
he tightened his grip and pulled her down beside him. “Come on,
I know that sour look, as if you've just swallowed a whole lemon.
What have I done now?”