Lord Of Zaracus. Anne Mather
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in the background.’
David chuckled. ‘Then I should say he has quite a job in mind,’ he murmured. ‘Tell me, are you still tied up with that creep Alaistair Kendrew?’
Carolyn drew on her cigarette before replying. ‘Alaistair’s not a creep,’ she protested. ‘I admit, he can be rather a bore at times, but I’ve known him since we were infants, and I guess Merle thinks he’s safe.’ Merle was her eldest sister.
‘And his money’s good,’ remarked David, dryly.
‘Oh, David!’
‘Well, it’s true. After all, having Lord Berringdon as his uncle is quite a recommendation.’
‘Not to me,’ said Carolyn, briefly.
‘No,’ David looked repentant. ‘No, you’re right. I’m sorry, Carolyn. Come on, I’ll take you for a drive to the lake. It’s not far from here. We all go there to swim. It’s perfectly safe, and you can see Don Carlos’s hacienda from the shoreline.’ He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘It’s quite spectacular, and after the horror of the journey here, I guess you could do with some convincing that this place isn’t as barbaric as it seems.’
Carolyn hesitated. ‘Oh, David, I’d love to, but—but Dad said I hadn’t to—well—–’ Her voice trailed away.
David studied her for a moment. ‘What’s wrong? What has he said?’
‘Nothing really, except that I shouldn’t get involved—with anyone.’
‘I’m not asking you to get involved,’ said David, reasonably. ‘Go ask him then; ask him if you can take a ride in the Land-Rover.’
Carolyn sighed. ‘You’re making it terribly difficult, David.’
David grimaced. ‘Why? You know you’ll do as you like whatever he says.’
Carolyn frowned. ‘No, I shan’t! Oh, David. …’
‘Oh, David, what?’ She swung round to face Simon Dean. ‘Hello, Carolyn. What has Dave been asking you to do now?’
‘Clear off, Simon, there’s a good boy,’ said David, his light tone belying his annoyance. ‘Can’t you see, this is a private matter.’ He glared at the other man. ‘Go write a letter to your wife!’
Simon’s face darkened. ‘Mind your own business, Dave! Now what can be interesting you both? Are you trying to persuade the professor’s fair daughter into getting herself into more bother?’
Carolyn flushed at Simon’s sarcasm. ‘There’s nothing like that, Simon.’ She glanced at the broad masculine watch on her wrist. ‘Look, it’s getting late, and I’ve had a long day. I think I’ll retire and leave you two to your private arguments. Some other time, David.’
David shrugged, and turned away, and Simon said: ‘I’ll escort you to your tent, Carolyn.’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ replied a familiar voice behind them, and Professor Madison took his daughter’s arm. ‘Come along, Carolyn.’ When they were out of ear-shot, he said: ‘You see, already you appear to be causing dissension.’
Carolyn looked exasperated. ‘David asked me to drive to the lake with him. He said it’s quite spectacular.’
‘Yes, Lake Magdalene. Don Carlos’s hacienda is at the far side of the lake. It is a beautiful place, but I wouldn’t advise you to go swimming at night with any of the men.’
‘We weren’t going to swim,’ exclaimed Carolyn, and then frowned. ‘At least, I don’t think we were.’
‘Dave and Simon often go down to the lake after dinner to bathe. It’s the best time of day, and the water is cool and refreshing.’
‘I see. Well, David didn’t mention that to me.’ She sighed. ‘I wouldn’t have gone, anyway. I’m not that naïve, darling.’
The professor smiled at her. ‘No, I don’t think you are,’ he agreed, nodding. ‘Now goodnight. I hope you get a good night’s sleep. I hope the crickets don’t keep you awake. We’re not greatly troubled by them here.’
‘Thank you, Dad. Goodnight.’ She kissed his cheek and entered her tent, securing the flap after her. Someone had placed a bowl of cold water on the table, and Carolyn washed before undressing. She had brought pyjamas with her, and put them on rather nervously, wondering how much protection was really provided by canvas. Then she switched out the light, and climbed into the camp bed. With its air-mattress it was quite comfortable, but it was all too new and strange for her to be able to sleep.
The darkness outside, after the men retired, was penetrating, and she thought she had never known it could be so black. She could hear the cicadas, as her father had said, and occasionally the strange screaming roar of a mountain lion, somewhere in the hills above the encampment. These sounds were unnerving; the scuffling in the undergrowth around the camp seemed close at hand, and she wondered wildly what she would do if some untamed creature hurtled into her tent.
She sat up abruptly, and reached for her handbag, extracting her cigarettes and lighter. In the small flame of the lighter, the tent seemed filled with shadows, encroaching patches of darkness hiding heaven knew what mysteries, and she hastily put out the light, preferring not to see. Then another sound came to her, a pattering and swell of sound that grew deafening. At first she had no idea what it could be, and she sat still, petrified, until suddenly she relaxed, and almost laughed out loud with relief; it was raining, heavy torrential rain, that beat against the canvas savagely.
She finished her cigarette, and lay down again, listening to the rain. The sound was a familiar one, for all her strange surroundings, and eventually she fell asleep, a faint smile on her lips.
The next morning she was awakened by her father bringing her in a cup of steaming hot tea, which was very welcome. She struggled up, brushing back her hair from her eyes, and screwing up her eyes against the glare of the sun outside.
‘Oh lord,’ she groaned, tiredly. ‘What time is it?’
‘Just after six-thirty,’ replied her father, smiling. ‘I know it’s early, but it gets very hot here after midday, and no one works in the heat of the afternoon, so we always start early. You’ll probably find you’ll take a siesta after lunch and feel completely relaxed and fresh again around four in the afternoon.’
Carolyn grimaced. ‘I didn’t get to sleep for hours last night. Did you hear that rain?’
The professor laughed. ‘No. I usually go out like a light as soon as my head touches the pillow. But I know we have had a heavy downpour by the state of the ground. Fortunately the sun dries everything up very quickly.’
Carolyn nodded in acknowledgement, and sipped the tea. ‘What am I to do this morning?’ she asked. ‘Can I see the dig?’
‘I expect so. I’ll take you along myself after breakfast. Hurry and dress, and José will have eggs and bacon ready for you—–’
‘Hold on,’ exclaimed Carolyn. ‘I don’t want eggs and bacon. I usually have a drink of orange juice and some coffee, that’s all.’
The professor looked concerned. ‘Well, you can’t possibly exist on orange juice and coffee until two in the afternoon when we usually have lunch. Okay, if you don’t want eggs and bacon, you can have a couple of tortillas, have you tried them yet? José does a delicious concoction with fried bananas, I’ll have him rustle something like that up for you.’
‘No!’ Carolyn was horrified. ‘Bananas are terribly fattening. I don’t want to look like a house-end by the time I leave here!’
‘Now, Carolyn, I’m not going to stand here arguing with you.’ The professor looked adamant. ‘This is Mexico, not London, England, and when in Rome you do as the Romans do, and in this case it means obeying my orders.’
‘Oh, Dad! Honestly, coffee