The Japanese Screen

It was a cool but pleasant morning in early April. Spring was in the air and the park was colourful with tulips and daffodils and narcissi. Even at this time of day there were plenty of people about, nannies with their charges, young mothers with prams, dogs and their owners enjoying the unexpectedly warm sunshine. They walked along the path towards the zoological gardens and conversation between them lapsed. Only Eduardo seemed unaware of the fact, exclaiming every now and then when a dog ran near to them or a child with a particularly interesting toy attracted his attention.

Zoos had never appealed to Fernando. The idea of a collection of wild animals being confined in small spaces for the public to come and stare at seemed to him a rather cruel and degrading arrangement. But when he remarked upon this to Susannah King he found that she had very definite ideas of her own upon the subject.

‘Most of these animals were born in captivity,’ she exclaimed. ‘They’d be no more at home in the wild than – than say, you would be, cast away on some desert island, remote from all the sophisticated accoutrements to civilized society you’ve grown used to.’

Fernando smiled. ‘And how do you know how I would react to such circumstances?’ he commented with a trace of irony. ‘I might find such a situation intriguing – de-pending, of course, on my companion.’

He saw the rose colour flood her cheeks. He was surprised at how easily he could embarrass her. So self-confident in some ways, in others she was extremely vulnerable, and the knowledge troubled him. He found himself wondering about her background, whether she had any home life, whether her parents were still alive – and then stopped himself. This would not do. After today, he would probably never see her again, which was just as well. He was becoming far too interested in her. He was leaving England at the end of the week. He was returning to his home in Spain – to his own family.

He noticed that after that she did not speak to him directly for some time, but concentrated on Eduardo, pointing out different species, explaining their various eating habits. Fernando was quite content to stroll along behind, answering Eduardo’s questions only when they were addressed to him.

It was after one o’clock when Susannah seemed to become aware of the lateness of the hour, and casting a doubtful look in Fernando’s direction said: ‘I think Eduardo ought to have a drink and something to eat, señor. Could we go to the café and have a sandwich?’ Fernando hesitated. The café, within sight and sound, not to mention smell, of the animals did not appeal to him. ‘I suggest we leave the gardens and find a restaurant, señorita. Eduardo has seen almost everything, has he not? Perhaps this afternoon we might do something else, si?’

‘Que?’ Eduardo stared at them both excitedly. ‘Que le parece, señorita,’ he appealed. ‘Tengo mucha hombre!’

‘Speak English, Eduardo,’ reproved Susannah automatically, and then gave a small shrug of her shoulders. ‘I don’t know what to say, señor.’

Fernando cupped her elbow with his hand. ‘Then I suggest you leave everything to me,’ he remarked quietly. ‘Eduardo is hungry. Were he and I alone, we would most certainly dine at a restaurant of my choosing. Your company simply makes that a more attractive proposition.’ Susannah drew herself away from him quickly, and he could see she was embarrassed again. For himself he was conscious of a distinct feeling of exhilaration in his stomach brought about by the trembling he had felt in that instant before she drew herself away.

They went to a Spanish restaurant in a mews off Oxford Street. It was a place Fernando frequented regularly on his visits to London, and he was recognized at once. The service was efficient, but unobtrusive, and he noticed that Susannah seemed to enjoy the onion soup, the chicken and rice, and the fruit-filled icecream which they ate as a dessert. They had a rosé wine with the meal, and even Eduardo drank his with enjoyment. Afterwards, the waiter brought coffee, and a liqueur for Fernando which Susannah had declined. Eduardo was excused and wandered off to examine an enormous aquarium filled with tropical fish which was an integral part of the wall near the entrance to the restaurant, and Fernando asked whether Susannah would mind if he lit a cheroot.

She shook her head. He could see that she was nervous and endeavoured to put her at her ease, talking about Spain in general terms, discussing the wine-growing industry of which his family had been members for generations.

‘I know very little about wines,’ she admitted, cradling her coffee cup between her fingers. ‘They’re not considered a natural accompaniment to a meal here – at least, not where I come from.’

‘Where do you come from, Miss King?’ Fernando questioned, unable to prevent himself from doing so.

She put down her cup. ‘I was born in Yorkshire, actually. That’s in the north of England. But when I had completed my training I came south to work.’

He drew deeply on his cheroot, exhaling into the air above her head. ‘Your parents still live in Yorkshire?’ he suggested.

‘No. My parents are dead.’ She sighed. ‘Actually, I never knew who my parents were. I lived in an orphanage until I was sixteen years old – a children’s home is how they like to describe it.’

‘You sound – bitter.’

‘Oh, no, no.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not bitter. They were very good to me, actually. I just don’t think it’s fair that women should have babies and then – abandon them. If I had a child, I’d want to care for it myself.’ She flushed. ‘Where is Eduardo?’

‘Eduardo is quite happy watching the fish,’ replied Fernando, impatient at the interruption. ‘Go on. I’m interested.’

‘There’s nothing more to tell.’

‘You’ve worked for the Castanas ever since you came to London?’ He was surprised.

‘No. No, not all the time. I’ve been here four years. I worked for an American family to begin with, but they divorced and I didn’t want to go and live in the States, so I joined the Castanas six months ago.’

‘I see,’ he nodded. He had the feeling that Lucie Castana would not keep her staff very long. He dropped ash into the tray in the centre of the table and then said: ‘Don’t you want to get married? Have children – as you said.’

Susannah coloured again. ‘Not for expediency, if that’s what you mean, señor,’ she stated stiffly, and he cursed himself for putting her on the offensive again. ‘Don’t you think it’s time we were leaving.’

Fernando heaved a sigh. He could have gone on talking to her for a long time. There were many more things he would like to know about her, and this in itself was unusual for him. Women had always seemed vapidly transparent creatures, intent solely on finding a man and capturing him. Marriage was a convenience, for both sexes, and anything beyond that was purely a sexual necessity. He had never particularly cared for talking to a woman before, and he resented having to share her attention with the boy.

Outside the restaurant Eduardo had a stream of suggestions as to where they should spend the remainder of the afternoon, but Susannah was not disposed to listen to them. ‘It’s already getting on for three o’clock,’ she declared. ‘I’m sure we’ve taken up enough of Señor Cuevas’ time already.’

Fernando thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He wanted to detain her, and it would not be difficult with Eduardo beginning to sulk at having his afternoon cut short, but common sense warned him that he had gone far enough.

‘I think perhaps Miss King is right, Eduardo,’ he stated, looking up and down the street rather impatiently. ‘Besides, you will want to go back and tell your mother what you have seen, will you not?’

Eduardo pouted. ‘You said we would go somewhere else,’ he accused, and Fernando felt a sense of contrition. He was letting the boy down simply because it was easier for him that way, and that wasn’t altogether kind.

‘Another day,’ he conceded at last. ‘If Miss King will permit you to miss lessons.’

Susannah gave a faint smile. ‘Thank you very much for escorting us, señor, and for that most delicious lunch.’

‘No tanto. It was nothing.’ Fernando could hear the stiffness in his voice, but her attempted dismissal irritated him. It was one thing for him to decide that they must part and quite another for her to take it upon herself to dismiss him. ‘I will accompany you back to the house, naturally.’

Susannah gave him a startled look. ‘That’s not necessary. That is—’ She paused, and he could almost read her thoughts. ‘Of course you are at liberty to come with us if you wish.’

‘As far as the door at least,’ he conceded sardonically, and was gratified to see that he had disconcerted her again.

But when the cab halted outside the Castana house in Lorrimer Terrace and Eduardo bounded out, intent on regaling everyone with his experiences, Fernando stayed Susannah with a hand on her arm. ‘One moment, señorita,’ he said in a low voice, aware of the troubled anxiety in her eyes.

‘Yes, señor?’

She sounded cool while he could feel heated blood in his veins. He drew a deep breath. ‘I wish you to have dinner with me tomorrow evening, Miss King.’

Her eyes fell before his, looking at his lean brown hand on the grey material of her sleeve. ‘I’m afraid I can’t, señor,’ she refused politely.

Anger erupted. ‘Por dios, why not?’

She tried to draw away. ‘I don’t think it’s a very good idea, señor. I – I don’t have a lot of free time in the evenings in any case.’

‘I think you are making excuses, Miss King. Why? Do you not trust me? I assure you, my motives are quite innocent. I enjoy talking with you, that is all.’

Susannah looked after Eduardo. ‘I must go, señor. Eduardo will tell his mother we are here. It would not do for her to find me here, with you, would it?’

An ironic smile touched his lips. ‘It is not of the slightest consequence to me whether or not Lucie finds us together.’ His eyes darkened. ‘Please – you will have dinner with me tomorrow evening, si?’

When he was disturbed his accent thickened, and he could hear it thickening now as he appealed to her. Why was it so important that she should accept his invitation?

She looked at him in an anxious fashion and then made a helpless little gesture. ‘I don’t know—’ she began awkwardly.

‘At eight,’ he insisted, pressing his advantage. ‘Walk to the end of the terrace and I will be waiting.’

‘Señor—’ she started, when Fernando saw Lucie appear in the doorway and look rather impatiently towards the cab.

He withdrew his hand from Susannah’s arm, and said: ‘Here is your employer now. Shall we get out to greet her?’

Susannah stepped awkwardly out of the cab and almost fell as she ricked her ankle on the kerb. But Lucie took not the slightest notice of her. Her eyes were intent on Fernando, and asking the cab-driver to wait, he too climbed out.

‘You’re early,’ she exclaimed, with a little dismissing nod in Susannah’s direction. ‘Come along in. We can have some tea.’

‘Gracias, no, Lucie.’ Fernando lapsed back into his own language. ‘I must go. I have an appointment with the importers at five o’clock.’

Lucie’s lips drew in. ‘You did not say that this morning, Fernando. I cancelled an afternoon engagement to be here on your return.’

‘I am sorry.’ He gave an apologetic smile.

Lucie held up her head. He could see she was warring with herself whether or not to mention the tentative dinner engagement also, but before she could come to a decision he bade her a brief Adios and climbed back into the cab. He could see the angry frustration in her face as he drove away and he hoped she would not wreak that frustration on Susannah King.

CHAPTER TWO

SUSANNAH was supervising Eduardo’s tea in the nursery when Lucie Castana came to find her. She could tell at once that Lucie was in a fine temper, and she hoped she would not start an argument here in front of the boy. He saw enough of that sort of thing between his father and mother and while Señor Castana was away Susannah had hoped to avoid any unpleasantness. However, her hopes were short-lived. Lucie was in no mood to prevaricate and came straight to the point.

‘Exactly what did you mean by going off for the day like that without asking my permission, señorita?’ she snapped angrily.

Eduardo looked up from his boiled egg in surprise. ‘Don Fernando asked Señorita King to come with us,’ he declared, in his boyish treble.

Keep out of this, Eduardo!’ Lucie ignored him. ‘Well, señorita? I am waiting for your explanation.’

Susannah moved away from the tea table. ‘I saw no objection to my joining Eduardo and – and Don Fernando, señora,’ she replied carefully. ‘There is nothing for me to do here when Eduardo is out.’

‘I might have had other ideas on the subject, señorita. It is true, you are employed for Eduardo’s sake, but I expect some consideration from you. I will not have you inviting yourself on every expedition that Eduardo makes simply because there is nothing for you to do here!’

‘It wasn’t like that, señora—’ Susannah was indignant.

‘Do not answer me back, señorita! If I say it was like that, then it was like that, do you understand?’ Lucie’s dark eyes flashed maliciously. ‘I did not realize you were so desperate for male companionship. Of course, while Carlos is away I’ve no doubt you miss his support—’

‘How dare you?’ Susannah was trembling with anger. ‘How – how dare you? Exactly what are you implying, señora?’

Now it was Lucie’s turn to look discomfited. For a moment she had allowed her own feelings of jealousy and frustration to get the better of her, but now she was regretting speaking so bluntly. In the eighteen months they had lived in England she had employed a total of five different governesses for Eduardo, and all except Susannah had left within three months of their employment. Only Susannah had borne the arduous duties pressed upon her without complaint, and Lucie knew that if Carlos came home to find that she, too, had given in her notice, he would be furious.

Taking a deep breath, she put out an apologetic hand and said: ‘I am sorry, señorita. Naturally, I am not implying anything.’ She forced a faint smile. ‘I – I have a headache, and I was looking forward to taking tea with Don Fernando. Unfortunately he has a business engagement, and I am afraid I allowed my disappointment to erupt into an unjustified anger against you.’

Susannah linked her fingers tightly together. ‘If you have any cause for complaint about my behaviour—’

Lucie shook her head impatiently. ‘No, no. Have I not just said I am sorry?’ She half turned. ‘I gather from Eduardo that you have had an enjoyable day.’

Susannah quelled the urge to tell Lucie Castana exactly what she thought of her as she caught sight of Eduardo’s concerned face. He was not ignorant of what had so nearly occurred, and there was appeal as well as anxiety in his eyes.

‘We had a – very enjoyable day, señora,’ she conceded at last, in expressionless tones.

Lucie studied her profile for a few moments and then walked towards the door. ‘So – we will forget this unpleasantness, si?’ she requested, unable to leave without gaining some sort of assurance from the girl.

Susannah made an indifferent movement of her shoulders. ‘Very well, señora,’ she agreed without enthusiasm, and Lucie had to be content with that.

Eduardo went to bed at seven o’clock and usually after this Susannah’s time was her own. Occasionally, when the Castanas were having a party, they asked her to remain in her rooms in case the boy needed her, but these occasions were not frequent.

Susannah herself did not go out a lot. She liked plays and sometimes a film, and if she was invited to a concert she enjoyed that very much, but she had no regular routine. Her friends were mostly girls from the training college she had attended, and although one or two of them were now married and introduced her to lots of suitable young men, she had no steady boy-friend. She was in no hurry to get married. Her background had not endeared the opposite sex to her, knowing as she did that her mother had been abandoned by her father when he found that she was pregnant. Or at least, that was her interpretation of her mother’s incapacity to care for her herself.

That evening, Susannah changed out of her formal skirt and blouse, donned an old pair of jeans and a chunky sweater, and settled down with the novel she had been reading for the past few evenings. It was a saga of family life in Cornwall at the turn of the century and up until now had inspired her interest. But this evening she found it hard to concentrate on imaginary characters when her mind kept wandering back over the real events of the day. She had no intention of accepting Fernando Cuevas’s invitation to dinner. She had been employed as a governess long enough to know that getting involved with either a member of the family or with a friend of a member of that family was simply asking for trouble. When she had worked for the American family, the Taylors, she had had plenty of opportunities, but she had learned her lesson well. Now she knew better than to cultivate relationships which in her position could only cause difficulties.

All the same, that did not stop her from thinking about him. He was the most attractive man she had ever met and although he did not possess the even good looks people referred to as handsome there was something disturbingly magnetic about deep-set, heavy-lidded eyes, a lean intelligent face, and smooth dark hair that appeared to need none of the oily hairdressing so loved by other Latin men she had met. She wondered how old he was – possibly between thirty-five and forty, but she couldn’t be sure. He didn’t look old, but the experience in his eyes betrayed an awareness not evident in the eyes of a younger man. She wondered why he had asked her to dine with him. What possible motive could he have? She didn’t believe his statement about enjoying talking to her, and she was not conceited enough to imagine that he might be attracted by her appearance. It would have been quite an experience, she acknowledged truthfully, but experiences sometimes required a payment she was not prepared to give.

The following day it crossed her mind that she really ought to ask Señora Castana for Señor Cuevas’ telephone number while he was here in London and ring and explain that she would not be meeting him that evening. But discretion got the better of valour. To bring up such a thing would only create more trouble, and she decided that if he did come to meet her and she did not turn up that would be that.

But as the day drew towards evening she had second thoughts. What if, when she did not go to meet him, he came to the house? What would she do then? What could she do? And how incensed Lucie Castana would be!

She put Eduardo to bed at seven o’clock as usual, said good night, and went to her own rooms. Señor Castana was due home tomorrow and Señora Castana had told her that she intended having an early night. There was no reason why she should not slip out of the house, meet Señor Cuevas and explain, and be back indoors again before anyone noticed her absence.

The decision made, she changed out of her uniform into a pair of rather shabby red velvet pants and a cream ribbed sweater, leaving her hair in the coronet of plaits she had worn all day. At five minutes to eight she left the house, not bothering with a coat but throwing a thigh-length cream cardigan about her shoulders.

It was a mild evening and the birds were still making a loud noise in the small park across the way. There were few people about. This small terrace of elegant town houses was occupied by a section of the community to whom walking was something one only did on the golf course, so she met no one she knew as she hurried towards the corner. There was no sign of Fernando Cuevas and unreasonably her heart sank. What did it matter? she asked herself impatiently. If he didn’t turn up, all the better. It would save her having to go into unnecessary explanations.

Reaching the end of the street, she looked up and down the wider thoroughfare beyond, but there was no one around who looked the slightest bit like the lean dark Spaniard she had come to meet. She sighed and consulted the broad masculine watch on her slim wrist. It was only just eight o’clock. He might conceivably be late. Traffic in London at this hour of the evening was notoriously unreliable, and it was quite easy to get trapped in a jam.

She drew her cardigan closer about her, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She might as well wait a few minutes. If only to satisfy herself that she had been wasting her time.

‘Good evening, Miss King!’

The quiet words spoken somewhere near her ear startled her almost out of her wits and she swung round on her heels staring in amazement at the man who was standing just behind her. He was quite close and she could smell a faint aroma of an after-shaving lotion. He was casually dressed in a tawny-coloured lounge suit and a roll-collared silk shirt that clung to the contours of his chest as he moved. His eyes dropped the length of her body in a swift appraising motion and then returned to her face again as he smiled approvingly.

‘I am glad you have dressed informally,’ he said. ‘I was afraid you might take my invitation to mean a dinner jacket affair.’

Susannah gathered herself. ‘No, no, you don’t understand, señor. I – I didn’t come to meet you, at least – not to go out with you.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘What is that supposed to mean, señorita?’

Susannah folded the sleeves of her cardigan around her arms. I can’t dine with you, señor. I’m sorry. I tried to make it plain yesterday afternoon, but Señora Castana interrupted me, and—’

‘Basta!’ He cut her off with an impatient ejaculation. ‘Why can you not dine with me? You are here. You are ready. Where is the difficulty?’

Susannah gasped, ‘I’m not ready. Not like this!’

‘You look perfectly satisfactory to me.’ He shook his head. ‘Why did you come to meet me if you did not wish to dine with me?’

Susannah shrugged. ‘I – I was afraid you might come to the house. I didn’t want to cause any more – upset.’

‘With whom? Señora Castana?’

‘Does it matter?’ She moved a little away from him. ‘I’m very flattered, of course, but I don’t accept invitations from friends of my employers.’

Fernando Cuevas put out a hand and caught her upper arm preventing her further progress, his fingers hard and compelling. ‘Why not? Do your employers forbid it? Do they subject you to a very subtle form of moral blackmail?’

Susannah shook her head, looking down at his hand on her arm. ‘It doesn’t do to mix business with pleasure,’ she replied. Then she looked up. ‘I’d have thought you would have known that, señor.’

He smiled, the kind of smile that caused her heart to quicken its beat rather dramatically. ‘Please,’ he said appealingly. ‘Would you disappoint a lonely man? A stranger to your country? I promise not to compromise you in any way.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Come. I have a car this evening – I hired it specially for the occasion. I do not care for taxi drivers to listen to all my conversations with you.’

Susannah’s resolve was weakening by the second. Her head was swimming, and she wondered if he could feel the throbbing rate of her pulses through his fingers gripping her arm. She thought it was entirely possible. There was a certainty of purpose about him now which was not completely due to his own self-confidence. Slowly but surely he was drawing her with him, off the pavement and on to the road and across to where a gold-coloured Ford Granada was parked, the reason why she had not observed him earlier.