Mallory stood at the top of the steps waiting, cap in hand, and Anne smiled up at him. “Would you care to have lunch with us, Mr. Mallory?”
He shook his head. “It’s good of you to offer, but I’ve already arranged to eat at the hotel.”
She dismissed Jagbir with a quick nod, trying to hide her disappointment, and Mallory came down the steps.
“This is Mr. Mallory, General,” she said formally.
Hamish Grant turned towards Mallory, his head slightly to one side. “Come a bit closer, man. I don’t see very well.”
Mallory moved to the table and looked down into the cloudy, opalescent eyes. The General reached out and touched him gently on the chest. “My daughter-in-law tells me you’re a good sailor?”
“I hope so,” Mallory said.
“What was your last ship?”
“An oil-tanker. S.S.Pilar. Tampico to Southampton.”
The General turned to Anne. “Did you check his papers?” she shook her head and he looked up at Mallory again. “Let’s see them.”
Mallory took a wallet from his hip pocket, extracted a folded document and union card and tossed them on the table.
“See when he last paid off and check the union card. There should be a photo.”
She checked the documents quickly and nodded. “Paid off S.S.Pilar, Southampton, 1st September.” She smiled as she handed them back. “It isn’t a very good photo.”
Mallory didn’t reply and the General continued: “The terms Mrs. Grant agreed with you, you’re quite satisfied with them?”
“Perfectly.”
“There’ll be a bonus of one hundred pounds for you on top. Some token of my gratitude for the way you handled this Southampton business.”
“That won’t be necessary, sir,” Mallory said coolly.
Blood surged into the General’s face in an instant. “By God, sir, if I say it is necessary itis necessary. You’ll take orders like everyone else.”
Mallory adjusted his cap and turned to Anne. You men-tioned some diving equipment you wanted me to take down to the boat?”
She took a hurried glance at the General’s purple face and said quickly: “You’ll find a station wagon in the courtyard at the rear. Jabber’s already loaded it. I’ll be down later this afternoon.”
Til expect you.” Mallory turned to the General. “Anything else, sir?”
“No, damn your eyes!” the General exploded.
A smile tugged at the corner of Mallory’s mouth. His hand started upwards in an instinctive salute. He caught himself just in time, glanced once at Anne, turned, and ran lightly up the steps.
The General started to laugh. “Pour me another brandy.” Anne uncorked the bottle and reached for his glass. “Am I right in assuming all that was quite deliberate?”
“Of course/ Hamish Grant said, “and I’ll add to your mys-tery, my dear. There goes a man who once was used to com-mand, and high command at that. I didn’t spend forty years in the army for nothing.”
High on the cliffs on the western side of the island Raoul Guyon and Fiona Grant topped a steep hill and paused. Before them the island seemed to tumble over the cliffs and the great jagged spine which joined them to St. Pierre was visible under the water.
“There,” she said, making a sweeping gesture with one hand. “Did I lie to you?”
“You were right,” he said. “Absolutely magnificent.”
“I’ll expect to See you up here with your easel first thing in the morning.”
“You’ll be disappointed. I always work from preliminary sketches, never from life.”
She had moved a few feet away, stooping to pick up a flower, and now she turned quickly. “Fraud.”
He took a small sketch-pad and pencil from the pocket of his corduroy jacket and dropped to the ground. “Stay where you are, but look out to sea.”
She obeyed him at once. “All right, but this had better be good.”
“Don’t chatter,” he said. “It distracts me.”
The sun glinted on her straw-coloured hair and her image blurred so that in that one brief moment of time she might have been a painting by Renoir. She looked incredibly young and innocent and yet the wind from the sea moulded the thin cotton dress to her firm young figure with a dis-turbing sensuousness.