Bond of Fate by Jane Corrie Read Free Book Online

I can't swim,' she said. 'I never learnt, you know,' she added apologetically.
    Julian's grey eyes, half closed because of the sun rays, looked beyond her to where Celia was now in animated conversation with one of the boat crew. `Well, we shall have to teach you, won't we?' he said.
    Melanie thought about it. She wasn't sure that she wanted to learn to swim. She had got on very nicely without that particular art so far in her life, and thought that it was a bit late to indulge in it. Besides, she didn't particularly want to look stupid in front of those all too sophisticated people. 'I'd rather not, if you don't mind,' she said firmly. 'I'm perfectly happy just sunbathing.'
    Julian glanced down at her briefly, and Melanie had a feeling that her reply had irritated him, and she was a bit puzzled by this. She was, after all, only stating her preference in the matter, not challenging his authority.
    `I do mind,' he said abruptly. 'Everyone should learn to swim. Particularly on these islands. It can make the difference between life and death. I'll teach you.'
    It was not a suggestion but an order, and a surprised Melanie watched his tall lithe figure in swimming trunks stride away from her towards Celia, and a few minutes later saw them take to the water together.
    So far, Melanie was not having a very restful morning. She felt vaguely uneasy at the change in Julian's attitude towards her, which smacked of male
     
    domination over his charges, and this was a new experience for her, for she had been mistress of her own destiny for many years. She wasn't too sure that she appreciated this situation, well meant or otherwise!
    At that moment, her all-too-short period of peace was shattered by the arrival of a grossly fat woman, followed by a meek-looking maid who placed her lounger beside Melanie's at the woman's imperative bidding. Then the woman settled down to engage Melanie in conversation.
    This sudden invasion of her territory was startling enough to Melanie without finding herself bemusedly staring at the woman's apparel, for she wore a black lacy dress complete with a diamond choker—aptly named in this case, as the folds of her triple chins almost hid the sparkling jewels, and, as if this weren't enough, rings and bracelets to match. In fact, she looked like a walking bank, and a fascinated Melanie found herself wondering if she had a tiara on under that huge sun-hat she was wearing!
    `I'm Lydia Hounslow Holmes,' said the woman in a deep, gruff voice, holding out a fat, heavily ringed hand towards Melanie. 'I understand you're the new Mrs Cridell.'
    Melanie swallowed back an urge to giggle at the unorthodox introduction, and, managing to quell her amusement, took the proffered hand. 'How do you do?' she said politely, then found herself undergoing a hard, cynical examination.
    Hmph! Not what I would call Julian's taste at all,' the woman murmured, half to herself. 'Looks more like a games teacher to me.'
    Melanie again felt that awful urge to laugh. Really, the woman was eccentric!
     
    `Not much to say for yourself, have you?' Mrs Hounslow Holmes commented. `Daresay you'll do. Don't take any notice of the cats around here. Been holding out for Cridell for years. Met Zara yet?' she suddenly flung out at Melanie, who recovered in time to realise that she was referring to Julian's ex-wife.
    `Er—no,' she got out, wondering just who this imperious old woman was.
    `You will!' the old lady commented with what Melanie felt was a certain amount of pleasurable anticipation. 'Just remember to duck if she's anywhere near a moveable object,' she added, chuckling hugely at this unasked-for advice,then she turned to the maid, still hovering in the background, who assisted her off the lounger with well-practised ease. Leaving the utterly bemused Melanie gazing after them, as the small procession made their regal way back to the hotel.
    She was still gazing after them when Julian and Celia rejoined her, and Julian, his eyes following