Island of Mermaids by Iris Danbury Read Free Book Online Page A

l. ‘ She has a good voice. Who knows yet what she can do with it? ’
    ‘ But her mother would never let her go away to follow a professional career. ’
    ‘ How well d ’ you know the Signora? You ’ ve been here — what?—two months? How d ’ you know whether she ’ d change her mind or not? ’
    Althea was silent for a moment. Then she said, ‘ No, of course I don ’ t know, any more than I know whether you can be a successful builder of an old ruined villa. ’
    The words were spoken at random, the first jibe that came into her head, but she was astonished by his reaction. He flung back his head and laughed, first a great masculine guffaw, then a deep, throaty chuckle. He stopped on the path and grasped her by the shoulders. ‘ Do I doubt that your father can tell pure silk material from rayon? What d ’ you think I am? A dilettante composer who spends two or three months here on the island and the rest of the year idling about among musicians? ’
    ‘ I ’ ve never asked what you do for the rest of the year or what your profession is. ’
    ‘ I ’ ll write out my qualifications on a postcard, ’ he snapped. ‘ You need not bother. I gather you have some knowledge of the building trade. I apologise if I misjudged you, although even some musicians are proud of their profession. ’ By this time Carla had caught up with them. ‘ What are you saying to Kent? ’ she demanded. ‘ That he is not a good musician? ’
    ‘ Nothing so dangerous, ’ replied Althea, with a smile.
    ‘ He goes to many famous places and cities. Soon his operas will be famous, too. Perhaps one day I shall also go with him to Paris, New York, London. ’
    ‘ Did he tell you that, Carla? ’ cut in Althea. ‘ Don ’ t believe all he says. ’
    ‘ Carla has accepted me for what I am here, a fourth-rate composer on holiday. She doesn ’ t bother about the rest of my life. It doesn ’ t matter to her that I spend it restoring old houses. ’
    What does he mean? ’ queried Carla, looking from Kent to Althea and back again.
    ‘ Excuse me, I ’ d like to get on with the job in hand at the moment. ’ Kent threw a crisp ‘ Goodbye ’ over his shoulder, as he turned away and walked back to his task.
    Carla stared after him. ‘ Does he mean he works? ’ she asked in perplexity, and Althea almost laughed at the disgust in the girl ’ s voice as she emphasised the word ‘ work ’ .
    ‘ I suppose so, ’ replied Althea. ‘ I gather he ’ s some sort of architect. ’
    ‘ Then he does not compose all the time? ’
    ‘ Oh, I expect he uses some of his spare time all the year round on his music, ’ Althea assured her. ‘H e comes to Capri probably so that he can be far away from his business matters. Here he can create his music in peace and quiet. ’
    ‘ But he also builds walls and perhaps puts down the floors and paints the walls. That is work for humble people. ’
    ‘ Not always. In London or wherever it is he lives, he would only supervise the work of building or rebuilding. Others would carry out his instructions. Here, it is different. He is working on a villa he has bought and is restoring Castagna as a place to live in. ’
    Clearly in Carla ’ s estimation Kent had fallen very low indeed. He was not a man who gave his life to creative music, but someone who actually worked for a living.
    ‘ He didn ’ t give you the impression that he was a full-time composer, did he? ’ Althea asked.
    ‘ No, he never said that. ’ Carla was evidently searching her memory for clues to his exact words at various times. ‘ I just thought—oh, it doesn ’ t matter. Perhaps he doesn ’ t know good teachers in Naples or anywhere, ’ she finished miserably.
    Althea was very angry with herself. In a rash moment she had more or less forced Kent to disclose his background and now it seemed that Carla had lost faith in him.
    ‘ Oh, I ’ m sure he does know a suitable teacher or he would never have promised to introduce you,