Chapter 27
Riva
With a towel wrapped turban-style on her head and another knotted loosely around her body, Riva heard someone knocking on the front door.
It was her day off and she’d just washed her hair, but she could hardly go down to the street like that.
She heard one of the girls on the landing and then from downstairs some murmuring.
A few minutes later Bobby walked into her room armed with chocolates and flowers and beaming at her.
‘Well, you look—’
‘Undressed,’ she said, more forcefully than she meant, feeling that she had somehow been negligent to let him see her like this. ‘Déshabillée?’
‘Gorgeous, actually. Pink-cheeked and fresh. Come over to Lottie’s with me?’
‘Why?’ She was feeling annoyed and a little hurt that he was just springing this on her without so much as an apology for not being in touch for at least three weeks.
‘She and her beau are over on Gozo until tomorrow. We’ll have the place to ourselves.’
‘Why not the apartment you share?’
‘Not as nice. Messy. Male. Smells of booze. The maid will be there.’
‘Lovely,’ she said and raised a brow, deciding not to give in too easily.
This was a new world for her and outside of the club it felt very English, so she wasn’t entirely sure what the rules of behaviour were.
She wished again that she could speak to Claudette, maybe pick her brains about Englishmen.
‘I’m rather busy actually,’ she said.
His face fell. ‘Oh. I’m so sorry, I know I should have let you know beforehand. Thing is … it’s been a bit tricky. My mother has been over.’
‘From England?’
‘No. She has a place in Italy.’
‘Not staying in your … now what was it … messy, boozy, smelly apartment? Have I got that right?’
He laughed. ‘At the best hotel in Valletta, actually.’
‘And you preferred not to call me while she was here?’
He pulled a face. ‘There wasn’t time.’
‘Well,’ she said, knowing he was making excuses. ‘I’m only teasing you. It really doesn’t matter about your mother.’
‘So you’ll come to Lottie’s? I have champagne.’
She laughed and, meeting his unwavering gaze, she saw hope in his eyes. ‘As I said, I am rather busy.’ She lifted a hand to push back a stray lock of hair and her towel slipped.
In a heartbeat he was beside her, kissing her on the forehead, on the cheeks and finally when he put his mouth on hers, she let him.
With one hand on her buttocks, he pulled her tight against him.
It was one of those long melting kisses, and for those few moments time swelled and then stilled, and she was lost.
‘You have a beautiful bottom,’ he murmured in her ear.
She was ready to give in, let him have what he wanted, right this minute, here and now, because more than anything she wanted it too, but still she pulled back.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry about my mother. Please come.’
Her heart was pounding, and she could feel sweat blooming under her arms, but she tried to sound matter of fact.
Even though her breath was coming too fast, and he knew it, she managed to turn away and with her back to him coolly said, ‘All right. Maybe. But you can wait in the street while I get dressed and you can take me for breakfast before anything else.’
‘I could watch you dress.’
‘Get out of here,’ she said and, now laughing, she bundled him through the door.
She took her time brushing her hair. As she glanced in the mirror, she heard her mother’s admonishing voice.
‘No one likes a cheap girl.’ Was she really planning to spend the day and night with Bobby?
She wanted to get drunk on champagne and allow him to undress her.
Wanted to kiss him everywhere, all the way down to his navel and beyond.
She wanted, no she longed, to feel everything.
She had never made love, just fooled around, nothing like the explosive images she imagined now.
She pulled herself up short. It was ridiculous.
She barely knew him. They’d been out together only once, and he hadn’t called her afterwards, just turned up out of the blue today with no warning – just assuming she’d comply.
Well blow that! He clearly thought he was the bee’s knees, and she was someone to be dallied with, a dancer, not much better than a call girl.
And yet he had taken her to meet his uncle.
She made a snap decision to not simply do what he wanted and slipped into her glad rags.
Today a navy blue cotton dress with a gently fitted bodice and a skirt accented with crisp white zigzagging lines, and at the hips a white bow.
She had recently bought a new white sunhat which she twirled in her hands.
A dab of make-up and she would do very nicely.
During what turned out to be a fabulous breakfast – croissants, fruit and especially good coffee – he raised his cup and said, ‘Cheers. Here’s to us’ just as if it had been a fine wine.
She dabbed her mouth with her napkin and gazing right into his eyes, she haughtily told him it really was for the best if they weren’t seen together in public.
He looked surprised but also curious. ‘Why not? I want to show you off.’
She glanced up as three inky black birds flew past and then she saw a man standing on the other side of the street, shading his eyes with one hand, the other resting on his cane.
‘Do you know that man?’ she asked. ‘I’ve seen him before, and he appears to be watching us.’
Bobby glanced across and raised his hand in a greeting of sorts. The man tipped his hat and moved on. ‘I rather think it was you he had his eye on. He has quite a reputation.’
‘With women, you mean? But he’s old. Must be over forty.’
Bobby laughed. ‘The worst sort.’
‘So who is he?’
‘Stanley Lucas. You probably saw him at that godawful dinner Lottie dragged you along to. Local businessman and well-connected fixer. But you haven’t answered my question. Why shouldn’t we be seen out together?’
She could give him any reason she liked but she decided on the truth. ‘The girls get jealous. Valletta isn’t a great place for us to be out and about together.’
He frowned. ‘Let them be jealous.’
She sighed as if to a child. ‘I have to live with them.’
‘Ah.’
‘And they can be mean.’
‘All right. We’ll be secret lovers!’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Aren’t you rather assuming something?’
‘I thought—’
‘You thought?’
‘I thought … I thought we were going to Lottie’s.’
She shook her head. ‘I said maybe.’
He had the grace to redden. ‘Oh … Of course … I’m so sorry. If you don’t want to. I wouldn’t want you to think … well we can do something else. Of course we can.’
She smiled, enjoying seeing him squirm.
‘Do you have something particular in mind?’
‘How about you show me more of the island, just as you promised when I first met you.’
‘Absolutely. We’ll take a picnic.’
‘I’d love a paddle in the sea.’
She waited in the car while he bought the ingredients for their picnic and then he drove them northwest from the city. As they neared a small village he said, ‘We can drive down to Riviera Bay from just beyond here.’
‘Riviera?’
‘Don’t get your hopes up, it’s nothing like the French Riviera. Just small and rural, but very lovely. The locals call it Gh‐ajn Tuffieh‐a. It’s Maltese for ‘Apple’s Eye’ and it’s my favourite beach.’
‘I’m sure it will be lovely.’
‘I’ve heard they are closing the road soon and then there will only be steps down to the beach,’ he said.
Once he’d driven the dangerous slippery road towards the beach she got out of the car and stood gazing at the panoramic view of the deeply curving bay and the turquoise sea. Completely alone, they were surrounded by clay slopes and high cliffs on either side of the bay.
He unwrapped some of the food he’d bought and on a small rug he placed g˙bejniet which he said was sheep’s cheese, zalzett a coriander-infused sausage, plus rustic bread, olive oil, anchovies, and a bottle of wine.
‘Race you to the water,’ he said when they had eaten, and he began to run.
She kicked off her shoes and followed him, running unevenly across the fine reddish sand, then paddling in the clear water, loving the bright colours of the shells and pebbles. After a few minutes she looked up to see him watching her.
‘Like it?’
She looked around at the stunning beauty. ‘I love it.’
‘Are you a strong swimmer?’
‘Of course,’ she said, not wanting to admit she wasn’t.
‘There are currents, so we do need to be careful. Better in high summer really but it should be fine now. And we haven’t had too much to drink.’
She hung her head, digging her toes into the sand. ‘I’ll just sunbathe.’
‘Of course. Addison always has towels and mats in the boot.’
He went to fetch them and once he had returned, he laid two straw mats on the sand, smoothing them out until they were completely flat. Then he handed her a towel.
‘What?’ he said, clearly sensing her unease.
‘I don’t have a costume.’
‘You were the one who suggested the beach.’
‘I know. It doesn’t matter.’
He glanced up at the bright blue sky. ‘It’ll get hot soon.’
He was right and there was no shade. Then, aware he was watching her, she carefully undid her buttons and wriggled out of her dress.
She felt self-conscious standing only in her pink drawers, a chemise and a petticoat, all of them in a new material they called rayon.
But it was sweaty, and she wished it were silk.
She didn’t usually bother with a corset here in Malta, although her mother would have been incensed at the very idea.
Her mother. Her shoulders sagged at the thought.
‘What?’ he said again.
‘Nothing. Just thinking of my mother.’
‘You must miss her.’
‘Oh, my good Lord. Not at all.’
He laughed. ‘I know the feeling.’
‘But your mother was just over here to see you. I bet she thinks you’re the best.’
‘Hardly. Anyway, it wasn’t just to see me.’
‘What then?’
‘A bit of a kerfuffle at the bank. Something very boring. She’s a rum old bird. Likes to sort everything out herself.’
‘Well at least she came.’
He shook his head but didn’t say anything more and simply concentrated on removing his cream cotton trousers, and his blue shirt, under which she saw he was wearing a short-legged, short-sleeved, union suit.
He walked to the water’s edge and with his back to her he removed his underwear.
She watched spellbound. This was the first time she’d seen a man completely naked, even if only from behind.
He was fair-skinned with clearly defined muscles in his thighs, buttocks and back.
He glanced back at her, and she felt herself blushing to have been caught staring like that which, of course, she realised, had been his intention.
He plunged into the sea, and she walked to the edge where the water lapped around her toes as she tested the temperature, then she waded a little further to watch as he swam. After a while he stopped and waved.
‘Come right in. The water’s gorgeous.’
‘It feels cold,’ she shouted back at him from the shallows, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she studied the haze on the horizon.
‘Not a bit of it,’ he said, then carried on swimming, this time out of sight.
She plucked up her courage, walked out of the foaming water back to the sand, slipped off her petticoat, leaving only her chemise and drawers, then stepped into the water again up to her waist, shrieking as icy waves broke against her tummy.
‘It’s freezing,’ she yelled as he came back into sight.
He laughed and swam to her.
‘I’ve never swum in the ocean before,’ she said and felt the weight of his eyes on her semi-naked body.
‘Where then?’
‘The River Dordogne in France.’
‘Well, it’s perfect here. You’ll warm up once you get moving. Just don’t go out too far.’
‘Not like you?’
He inclined his head and kept pace with her as she began to swim a slightly hesitant breaststroke. Then he pulled away, his professional-looking crawl enabling him to slice through the water at speed.
‘Don’t go any further out,’ he called back to her.
She was enjoying her own leisurely pace, lost in the beauty of the sea and the expanse of periwinkle blue sky.
There was barely any wind and once she’d warmed up she closed her eyes and floated, feeling peaceful without any sense of how far out she might be.
But suddenly, with no warning, the sea surged and her legs were swept under her as she was forced further out.
She shouted for him, her arms flailing as she thrashed at the water, trying to resist the force of a current that was now dragging her along.
In her panic she went under, then managed to come up for air, but with water in her mouth and nostrils she coughed and spluttered.
She tried to swim sideways to free herself from the current, but it held her in its grip and she was moving along much faster now.
Oh God, why hadn’t she listened to him? Every time she surfaced she was dragged back under.
She felt herself sinking again and again but each time was able to rise and stay afloat for a few more moments, keeping her face just above the surface, long enough to gasp for air.
She panted as images began flashing through her mind.
She could not let this happen and yet it was.
The pulling sensation became even more powerful and now, as it took her under, she had nothing left with which to struggle.
As the overwhelming power of the current held her down, she knew she couldn’t fight back and was going to sink …
With one final burst of energy, she fought and rose again, screaming. Terrified she was drowning, she screamed once more before swallowing water. Suddenly Bobby’s arms were around her, hauling them both out of the current and back towards the beach.
Once on the sand she fell to her knees coughing and crying at the same time. When she could finally manage to speak, she staggered to her feet and faced him.
‘You absolute bastard! I could have died out there. Why the hell weren’t you keeping an eye on me?’
He stiffened. ‘You said you were a strong swimmer.’
‘I told you I had never swum in the sea before.’
She tried to maintain her dignity as she stalked up the shifting sand to where she’d dropped her clothes then, with difficulty, tugged them on over her soaking wet things, not caring how it looked. He followed and tried to hand her a towel which she ignored.
‘Now take me home,’ she hissed. ‘And after this I never want to see you again for as long as I live.’