Vengeance in the Sun Read Free Page A

face.
    â€œMiss Matthews?”
    I nodded, rising to my feet. He was a big man with a head of untidy hair and friendly eyes, wearing a white tee-shirt that had seen better days and a pair of creased cotton trousers.
    â€œMario Arteche,” he said, shaking my hand vigorously and picking up my case, throwing it easily into the rear of a battered cream-coloured estate car. “ I am sorry I am late.”
    We swerved recklessly out onto a sun bleached road: “Is this your first visit to Majorca?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThe villa D’Este is not near the tourist resorts. It is high in the mountains. A little lonely perhaps, but very beautiful.…”
    I leant back against the musty leather of the seat, content to let him do the talking, enjoying the sun and the sounds and smells of a new country. Trying not even to think of Max.…
    â€œIn another few minutes we will be among the mountains,” Mario said, pointing ahead to where white granite peaks rose sheer against the vibrant sky. With an ear splitting blast on the car horn he scattered a group of laughing children and the dust blown streets were left behind us as the land fell away steeply at the roadside and we began to climb.
    Soft green trees, silvered in the brilliant light, gave the otherwise barren mountain-sides a milkish hue. Waist high pampas grass brushed against the car as the road narrowed in its tortuous ascent, winding tirelessly round curve after curve, each fresh view one of blinding blue sky and searing white rock.
    â€œDaniella is looking forward to meeting you,” Mario said, the wheel spinning beneath his large brown hands.
    â€œGood. I’m looking forward to meeting her too.”
    â€œShe is a nice little girl. You will like her. And,” he turned and gave me a dazzling smile, “ she will like you.”
    â€œWhat about the others? Mrs Van de Naude’s secretary and Danielle’s tutor. Are they easy to get on with?”
    â€œMiss Blanchard is very sophisticated,” he took his hands from the wheel, to show that she also had a very good shape. “Mr Lyall is … quiet.” Mario dismissed Mr Lyall with a shrug. “The next lot of hairpin bends are known as the Devesas. Lots of accidents happen here.” As he spoke the car swung dizzily to face nothing but sky and far below, the glittering turquoise of the sea. “ It is best to drive slowly round here,” Mario said unnecessarily, “especially at dusk.”
    The road swung briefly away from the sea, leading into a narrow gorge between the mountains. Soaring slabs of rock plunged us into shadow, only the higher flanks catching the golden glitter of the sun. We climbed even higher, and then the gorge widened and we shot off the road onto a sun scorched promontory, the mountains closing in behind us. Ahead of us the headland jutted out over the sea and doll-like, poised precariously with nothing but a background of sky and cloud, stood the pale bleached walls of the villa D’Este.
    We bucketed over the rough grass, weaving expertly between shoulders of serrated rock as the courtyard walls loomed nearer. Then we swept through wide gates and into a riot of colour. In the centre of the courtyard a bronze fountain sprayed a mist of water over a pool full of water lilies. On three sides were shaded colonades and delicate archways, and everywhere there were flowers. They wound up the white pillars, massed the balconies and covered the walls, the scent thick in the heat. Helena Van de Naude stepped towards me, her hands outstretched.
    â€œWelcome to the villa D’Este, Lucy. I hope you will be happy here.”
    â€œI’m sure I will,” I said confidently.
    â€œTake Miss Matthews’ case to her room and ask Peggy to bring drinks out to the pool, Mario. Come this way, Lucy. It’s rather a maze at first but you’ll soon get used to it.”
    We stepped under the arcade and into the coolness of