Vengeance in the Sun Read Free Page B

a high ceilinged corridor with pretty tiled floor and brilliant white walls. Walking quickly past innumerable doors and then up a flight of shallow steps, the tiles gave way to polished floors of pale gold wood, the walls hung with big, bold paintings, all with an African theme. An open door gave a glimpse of deeply piled carpet and silk lined walls and then we were once more in the heat of the sun. A long terrace stretched the length of the villa with sun-chairs and loungers around the edge of a large swimming-pool.
    A plump dark-haired woman with a tray of drinks came towards us. She set it down on a glass topped table, looking at me with friendly curiosity.
    â€œPeggy, I’d like you to meet Lucy Matthews.”
    Peggy shook my hand warmly. “ Very pleased to meet you I’m sure. Danielle’s been doing nothing else all morning but talk about your arrival.”
    â€œWhere is she now?” her mother asked, glancing towards the villa.
    â€œMr Lyall let her finish her lessons early and she’s gone to change her dress. Not that it needed changing, but she would insist on putting on her best to meet Miss Matthews.”
    â€œMario has already taken Lucy’s case upstairs. I thought I’d let Danny show Lucy to her room. She’ll enjoy doing that.”
    â€œShe certainly will,” Peggy said, giving me another warm smile. “She helped me dust and put fresh flowers in there only this morning.”
    â€œShe’s a nice woman,” Helena Van de Naude said as Peggy disappeared back into the villa. “ She’ll be a great help to you.” She scooped ice into a glass of fresh orange, saying: “Does it come up to expectations?”
    â€œThe villa?”
    She nodded, handing me my glass and pouring a drink for herself.
    â€œIt’s beautiful,” I said truthfully. “Absolutely breath-taking.”
    Behind the villa was the broad sweep of the headland and beyond that, the mountains rising stark against the cloudless sky, the ridges of barren rock silvered in the sun. In front of us, beyond the terrace, the wooded cliffs fell steeply to the Mediterranean. The sea shimmered translucently, creaming gently against the cliffs, a small breeze tossing up flying scuds of spray, stirring the sleepy scent from the pines that hugged the cliff. Wherever one looked there was sea and sky and rock. And silence.
    â€œWe’ve lived here for ten years and I still love it. The only necessity is a car. There is a Fiat and an Audi in the garage which you can use whenever you wish. There is also that disreputable wreck that Mario insists on driving if the other cars are not available.”
    There came the sound of running footsteps and a little girl ran out of the villa, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. She ran to her mother, flinging her arms around her waist, burrowing her head in her lap so that all I could see of her were two skinny brown legs and a mop of mousy hair.
    Helena Van de Naude patted her shoulder. “There’s no need to be shy, Danny. Miss Matthews has come a long way to be with us. Aren’t you going to say hello?”
    Slowly she raised her head. She was smaller than I had expected, with none of her mother’s blatant vitality. The mousy hair was straight, her face plain, but there was a gentleness in the wide spaced grey eyes that was attractive and appealing.
    â€œI’ve done a drawing for you,” she said, smiling shyly, still holding on to her mother with one hand as she held out her piece of paper.
    A matchstick figure with a not of yellow curls and triangular skirt of red and blue was surrounded by birds and butterflies and a sun like a giant cartwheel.
    â€œThank you, Danielle. That’s lovely,” I said, smiling and holding out my hand to her. She came hesitantly, saying:
    â€œI like drawing pretty ladies. Do you like drawing?”
    Thankful I had one talent that pleased, I drew as near a likeness to her as I