Dancing in the Shadows (14 page)

‘Well you have,' Dorcas said robustly. ‘You've got an established garage and a home that any girl would be proud to come to.'

‘Do you think so? You're not just saying that to be polite? You really mean it?'

‘Of course I do,' she said, touched by his eager reaction to her words of praise.

‘Not knowing much about these things,' he explained, ‘whenever I went to buy anything for the home, I tried to look at it through Jane's eyes. You can't know what a relief it is—' His eyes went blank, as if he'd just remembered something.

‘And you'll see that you have,' said Dorcas, ‘when Jane looks round and tells you it is exactly how she pictured it.'

‘Yes,' he said. ‘Yes of course.' But he was speaking in that funny, false voice again.

‘Tom? Is anything the matter?'

‘What could be the matter?' he countered. ‘Come to that, now that all is explained and
you
have been expiated of guilt, why aren't you looking more chirpy?'

‘There is something,' she admitted. ‘It's not the fact that we kissed that's troubling me. It's that we were seen. Do you think Señor Garcia will tell?'

‘Tell who?'

‘Well, he could tell Jane.'

‘That is very unlikely,' Tom retorted drily.

‘You're right,' Dorcas said blissfully. ‘He would hardly gossip about that to your fiancée. But—' frowning again ‘—He might gossip to someone else. If it were to reach Señora Ruiz's ears, she wouldn't think much of her house guest, would she?'

‘You do mean
Señora
Ruiz?' Tom said speculatively. ‘I seem to remember the señora has a rather handsome son.'

Dorcas's blush not only answered that, but supplied the possible identity of the man she'd kissed him to forget.

‘Good grief!' he said. As he wasn't such an egomaniac as to believe he could make anybody forget Carlos Ruiz, he found himself swallowing back his own wry smile. ‘You didn't ask much of me! In a way, though, I suppose you've paid me a tremendous compliment.' On this benign thought he said kindly: ‘Don't worry, I know just the word to say to don Paco to ensure he doesn't tell . . .
Señora
Ruiz.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

The pause, the emphasis Tom gave to Señora Ruiz's name was very revealing. Tom had guessed it was Carlos she didn't want to know, because it was Carlos she loved. She wasn't so much bothered that Tom knew, but she was shocked that she was so transparent that even a stranger could read her. And yet Tom didn't seem like a stranger.

His eyes moved to her from their preoccupation with the letter propped against the fruit bowl, and it occurred to her that he should be more excited at the prospect of his fiancée's arrival next day. In his shoes, she would be hitting the ceiling. It just served to prove that Tom had a better clamp on his emotions than she had. This thought carried with it more than a slight trace of envy. It would be nice to have the cover of glass, of the shatter-proof variety, without its see-through qualities.

Tom brought her out of her reverie by saying: ‘Come on, nuisance. I'll run you back.'

‘Am I? A nuisance?' She certainly seemed to be one all the way round.

‘No. It was just something to say. I didn't mean it.'

‘Do you often say things you don't mean?'

‘Not often. Dorcas, if I wasn't crazy about
Jane
and if you weren't crazy about this
hombre
you kissed me to forget, there would be a chance for us.'

‘Go on with you. It's just something to say again.'

‘No.' His hands cupped her face. ‘If Jane jilts me, and if things don't work out for you and your guy, will you marry me?'

It would be a miracle if things did work out for her and Carlos, but Jane must know she had pure gold in Tom. Dorcas could give an affirmative reply in the absolute certainty that it could never come to pass.

‘Given those circumstances, yes Tom, I will marry you.' They should both have laughed then, only they didn't. Dorcas's throat was curiously tight.

‘Will you please excuse me while I have an emotional freak-out. I'm not used to proposals. Even insincere ones.'

‘What makes you think that one was insincere? I meant every word, Dorcas. That makes it sincere.'

‘Within the context of the wording,' she put in hastily. ‘Yes. Within the context of the wording.'

His serious features were transformed by his quick, sweet smile, witnessed previously during the morning, but never before with quite this impact. And she saw what he meant about the sincerity bit because she thought, if I weren't hooked on Carlos, and you didn't have Jane, I
could
fall for you in a big way.

‘Another beer before I take you back?'

Dorcas couldn't remember drinking the first one. She had abandoned her glass somewhere while it was still half full.

‘I would rather not. To tell you the truth I'm feeling a bit weary, and I suspect that's how I look. If you really mean it about giving me a lift, I'd like to go now please, and then I'll have time to tidy up before lunch. Are you quite sure you can spare the time?'

‘Quite sure.'

In a matter of minutes she was seated beside him in his car. The return journey was accomplished in a fraction of the time it had taken her to walk it. Thinking of that walk, along that very dusty track, made her look down at her bare, sandalled feet. They were deplorably dirty. Not only that but her hair—the unflattering consequence of wearing a sun hat in fierce heat—was flattened to her head in perspiring tendrils. She thought it little wonder that Tom hadn't contradicted her when she said she thought she must look weary.

As Tom would have pulled up at the curly wrought-iron main gate, she said: ‘Will you drive round, please. There's a small side gate. Could you drop me there, please. I've just remembered that my hostess is expecting visitors for lunch. I don't want to be caught looking the sight I do and there's always at
least
one early arrival.'

Tom followed her instructions, and in doing so also followed the course of a long black car. He said: ‘Do you think someone else is choosing to sneak in without being seen?'

Both cars pulled up at the same gate.

‘It would appear so,' said Dorcas, recognizing the car. ‘It's Señor Ruiz. Would you like to meet him?'

‘I think I'd better,' said Tom, killing the engine. ‘It might look odd if I just drove off.'

Enrique Ruiz had a marked twinkle in his eye as he approached Dorcas and Tom. Addressing Dorcas he said: ‘Do I have a guilty accomplice?'

‘I just remembered the señora is expecting guests for lunch. I thought I should make myself presentable before joining them.'

‘I also remembered. I, too, like to prepare myself for the ordeal of meeting my wife's women friends. But I prefer liquid fortification. This way is a short-cut to my study. Perhaps you and your friend would care to join me?'

‘I'm so sorry,' said Dorcas, realizing she had been remiss over the introductions. ‘Señor, may I introduce Tom Bennett. Tom is the owner of the
Garage Inglés.
'

‘I am aware of that,' said Enrique Ruiz, ‘although we have not previously met. I have heard good reports of your work. You are gaining the reputation of being a first class
mechanic.
I have been meaning to put some business your way for some time. I will do so without delay.'

‘Thank you, sir. You are very kind.'

‘I am a business man. Kindness does not come into it. Now quickly, into my study,' Enrique Ruiz said with such brisk authority that neither Dorcas nor Tom dare do other than obey.

‘Is white rum to your taste, young man?'

Tom said it was. Then Señor Ruiz said: ‘White rum is not for little girls. A light
fino
is a more fitting apéritif for you, Dorcas.'

The señor handed Dorcas her sherry. As she watched him pour white rum generously into two glasses, she thought that if her kind señor had a heart complaint, he too would have been wiser to choose the sherry. She wondered if the señora knew her husband drank spirits before lunch.

‘Dorcas is looking at me in a most disapproving way,' the señor said naughtily. ‘Save that look, Dorcas. You will need it when you are a wife.'

‘Not if she marries me,' Tom stated, with equal wickedness. ‘I won't do anything that Dorcas disapproves of.'

‘Is such a union possible?' don Enrique enquired with obvious interest, and if it hadn't been a fanciful notion, Dorcas would have thought his curiosity was spiced with dismay.

Tom gave a very definite and succinct yes.
Dorcas
took longer over her reply, wording carefully because she wanted to be sure that nothing could be misinterpreted, nothing misunderstood.

‘Tom proposed that in the unlikely event of our being free of present emotional encumberments, we should marry each other. Keeping scrupulously to that wording, I said yes.'

In the face of don Enrique's bewilderment, Dorcas struggled on. ‘It is the sort of promise that is never taken up. Like a small daughter saying she is going to marry her papa when she grows up.'

Were small Spanish girls too sensible to make such a statement? Just as Dorcas was beginning to despair, comprehension lit the deceptively austere Latin features.

‘Ah . . . you funny English! I now have the understanding. Please have the patience with a dull old man. I am over thirty years into a marriage with an English woman and yet a turn of phrase, a piece of humour that is peculiarly English, still baffles me.' Enrique Ruiz had the most kindly penetrating eyes of any man she knew. Dorcas saw a smile creep into their expression. ‘I am not, as you English say, “with it”.'

Predictably, don Enrique invited Tom to stay to lunch. ‘I am not asking because when the hour reaches so, it is only polite to ask a visitor to stay. I am asking you to honour my
table
for a purely selfish reason. I do not care to be the only male lunching with the women's sewing circle.'

‘Doesn't Michael intend being in for lunch?' Dorcas asked.

‘Sadly no. Your brother is absent on some business of his own.' Indicating what he thought was the nature of that business, he patted the portion of his chest where he judged his heart to be.

Dorcas let it bounce off her. At the moment she could do without thoughts of Michael's amorous antics, her own being all the weight her mind could take.

‘You haven't met Señorita West's charming brother?' Enrique Ruiz enquired of Tom.

Tom admitted that he had not had that pleasure.

Enrique Ruiz seemed to chuckle over Tom's choice of words. ‘A pleasure . . . yes. For the ladies and still a pleasure for me because I do not enjoy the limelight and I do not mind that Michael steals this for himself. As Michael is not to be present at lunch, I look for an ally.'

‘I appreciate the invitation, Señor Ruiz, but I must say no. It's not that I'm daunted by the matrons of the women's sewing circle—well, not all that much—but I really must get back to my work. I'm already behind on my schedule.'

‘And you can't put off while tomorrow? No, it is not right that I should ask.'

‘Tomorrow
is a big day for Tom,' Dorcas said importantly. ‘His fiancée is arriving from England.'

‘In that case I will not attempt to persuade you to stay. Perhaps some other time.'

‘I shall look forward to it, señor.'

‘It has been good meeting you, my boy. I will not forget my promise to put some business your way. It is not a favour. Your work merits it.'

‘It is kind of you, señor. I shall be most grateful. Thank you for your hospitality.'

The final goodbyes were said. Tom went. Dorcas would have gone too, already too many minutes had been shaven off her getting-ready-for-lunch time, but don Enrique put out a detaining hand.

‘Tom Bennett is a very nice, a very pleasant young man, but I am glad he has a fiancée who is arriving from England tomorrow. I am not saying he would not make you a fine husband, because he probably would; what I am saying is that I do not want to lose you. Not just yet.' A question was vaguely surfacing in his eyes. The smile that was so like Carlos's quivered across his features, a smile of such inveigling charm that Dorcas would willingly have told him whatever he wanted to know. ‘You said both you and Señor Bennett had emotional encumberments.'

So that was what he wanted to know. It was the one thing Dorcas dare not tell him. She
knew
he was fond of her. She did not want to put that affection at risk by naming his son as the man she loved.

The slamming of a car door, heralding the arrival of the first guest, saved Dorcas the necessity of answering.

‘We will talk later, child. If you hurry you will not be caught.'

Now that the noose was no longer straining round her neck, Dorcas could smile.

‘Wish me luck, señor. Although a pair of wings on my heels would be of more practical use.'

* * *

Dorcas thought about what to wear while she was under the shower. Her choice, a crisp, glazed cotton shirtwaister, suited a fresh, unmade-up face. She had time only to apply moisturizer and lipstick. A quick comb through her hair, a fresh pair of sandals located and put on, and she was ready to face Rose Ruiz's guests. Maria Roca, Isabel's mama, represented the only familiar face. It meant a gruelling session of introductions before she could take her place at the dining table.

Mercifully, she found herself next to Señora Roca, who took the first opportunity to whisper: ‘They are not as formidable as they look. I must warn you, though, to expect a
barrage
of questions. When women reach a certain age of maturity, curiosity takes second place to tact.'

‘Thank you, señora. I will bear that in mind.' For what good it would do her. ‘Is Isabel not with you today?' Allowing outlet to her own curiosity.