Passionate Choice

Chapter 5.1

   "So you're back at last." Heather appeared at one of the open glass doors and slid back the screen. "Where's Keith?"

   "Gone to the dive-ship, I suppose. He asked me to give you these." Selena handed the truck keys over.

   "My goodness, you're very pale. I hope you didn't feel travel-sick in the truck," said Heather stepping back into the lounge to let Selena pass inside. "I know the road between here and the village is rough."

   "No. I wasn't travel-sick. I just feel a little tired, that's all."

   "Then come and have a drink. On the house of course," said Heather hospitably. "We're all having one. We have some guests for the evening. They came in on a yacht and it's docked down at the jetty."

   Selena glanced over at the bar and the people clustered about it, both men and women dressed in sailing clothes.

   "No, not just now," she started to say when Ben detached himself from the group and came over to her, smiling.

   "Did you get through to Aubrey?" he asked.

   "Yes. No problem." She glanced at the glass in his hand. "Not like you to drink hard liquor," she murmured.

   "I'm drowning my sorrows," he said lightly. "About not finding anything in the crevasse. Come and have one too. What would you like?"

   "What are you having?"

   "Heather's variation on a Planter's Punch. It's mostly fruit juices with a little run. Won't do you any harm or interfere with your diving," he said. "Heather, another of these for Selena," he called out. "Sit down," he went on, turning back to Selena and pushing forward one of the bar stools. "You seem shaken up."

   "It was the ride in the truck. The road is really rough." She slid on to the stool and looked over to the other side of the curved bar counter. The man who was sitting there seemed to be staring at her intently. Black-haired and black-bearded, he seemed familiar to her but she couldn't quite place him. In the next instant, she had dismissed the possibility that she knew him. Beards and mustaches tended to make dark-haired men all look alike.

   "What's the village like?" asked Ben.

   "I thought you'd been there," she sad in surprise. "I thought you stayed with Heather and Louis two years ago."

   "I never went to the village, though. I spent most of my time here, underwater with Louis."

   "It's just a cluster of houses, a church and a hotel, a deck for the mail-boat and any freighters that call. The people are friendly, though. Everyone waved to us as we passed."

   "Here you are, Selena. Your Planter's Punch," said Heather setting down a tall glass full of pinkish liquid decorated with a slice of lime. "Like another, Ben?"

   "No, thanks."

   "You'll have to excuse me," said Heather. "The others want more drinks and until Chuck, the barman, comes, I guess I'm barman."

   "You should be more strict with your employees," said Ben. "Dismiss then if they can't come to work on time."

   "Dismiss an islander?" Heather's large teeth glittered as she laughed. "Oh, we can't do that. Once they're in our employment, they're with us for ever. Anyway, I wouldn't want to dismiss any of them. I love them all. They're instead of children. Chuck will turn up sooner or later, you'll see. And I couldn't possibly sack him. He makes the best piña coladas in the Caribbean." One of the screens slid open and a young black man smartly dressed in dark trousers and a crisp white shirt stepped in. "Here he is," crowed Heather. "Hi, Chuck."

   "Sorry I'm late, Missus Heather, ma'am," he said, grinning all over his face. "My bicycle had a puncture and I had to push the stupid thing all the way here. Now what you doin' back there, ma'am? Tryin' to take my job over?"

   He slid behind the bar and Heather turned away to talk to him privately. Selena sipped some of the drink through the straw provided, glad she didn't have to pick up the glass. She was still dithery after her emotional clash with Keith and wanted nothing more than to go to her room, fling herself down on the bed and cry. As she finished sipping, she looked over at the man with the black beard. He was still staring at her. She turned to Ben, worried by that stare. Supposing he was someone she knew or had met and come over to speak to her, she would be embarrassed because she didn't recognize him.