Fire in the Blood

Nadine fumed silently for a second, then threw back, 'You let me help when you got started, you borrowed money from me then, why can't you do that again?'

'You were my wife then!'

She gave him a wary look, biting her lip. Did he mean all this, or was he being devious again? 'Well... well, I'm your ex-wife now but surely you can still use my money! You and Larry have always borrowed money wherever you could...'

'That's different,' he shrugged.

'Why, for heaven's sake?' she demanded furiously.

'Because that was strictly business; they expected very high levels of return on their money.'

'You can pay me interest if that's what's bothering you!'

'No, Nadine. I'm not treating you like some city financier. It could never be business between us— it would always be personal. As I said before, I'll only take that money from you if you come with it.'

'Well, don't take it, then!' she snapped. 'Get your key from Reception and get out of my room and my life!'

He gave her a level look, his brows black and jagged, turned and picked up the phone, rang down to Reception.

Nadine went into her bathroom. She felt as if she had a cold coming. Her eyes were stinging and her throat felt as if it was full of salt. She looked grimly at herself in the mirror. You are not going to cry! she told her reflection. He isn't worth it.

Her eyes looked shadowy and glistened as if with unshed tears. You could go back to him, they said to her.

Oh, shut up! she told them.

You want to, her eyes infuriatingly said.

No, I don't, Nadine denied, her mouth as tight as a trap.

Yes, you do, her eyes said, black-rimmed as if in mourning for something, for her, perhaps, or Sean, or lost love, mislaid love, shipwrecked love which had deserved a better chance.

Only a fool would love a man who can be so maddening! she told her reflection.

Her eyes darkened with passion. Fool, they said. Fool.

She crossly bent down to the vanity unit, turned on the tap and splashed cold water on them. As she straightened, reaching for a towel to dry her face with, she heard

voices in her room.

Sean's key had arrived with the desk clerk. She heard the two men laughing. No doubt Seem had made a good story out of losing his key. She hoped it didn't involve her in some way.

She waited until she heard the door close behind the desk clerk then went out, braced for another encounter with Sean, but he had gone. She looked round her room blankly and suddenly felt depressed. She missed him when he wasn't there. She had missed him ever since the day she left him, she had never really got used to living without him, and now that she had been with him for these days at the hotel she knew, with a terrible sinking inside her, that going back to being without him would be even more painful.

He wanted her back, she thought, closing her French windows and shutting out the magical moonlit night. He must be serious, or he wouldn't refuse to take her money unless she came back to him. Maybe she should...

No! she thought, making sure the desk clerk hadn't unlocked the connecting door between their rooms; then she wrote out a breakfast card and hung it on her door before she bolted it, then went into the bathroom to take a shower. Look at his jealous attack on poor, harmless Johnny Crewe, his obvious resentment because she was beginning a new career in TV. It wouldn't work. He hadn't changed. He was still possessive, jealous, demanding, set on getting his own way.

She showered off the salt and sand which had encrusted her body while they were on the beach, shampooed her damp chestnut hair, rinsed it and wrung it out before towelling it lightly, then put on her yellow lawn nightdress, cleaned her teeth, and slid into bed.

She was so exhausted by the events of the evening that she fell asleep almost at once and slept heavily all night and was woken up by the arrival of her breakfast.

She sleepily put on a matching yellow lawn wrap and stumbled to open her door for the room-service waiter, asked him to wheel the table out on to the terrace. When he had gone she splashed water on her face to wake herself up, brushed her hair lightly, and went out on to the terrace to eat the rolls and fruit she had ordered.

The day sparkled: blue sea, blue sky, water sprinklers whirling on the smooth green turf, the sun on the jewel colours of the bougainvillaea, the fretted green leaves of the palm trees whispering in the faint morning breeze. There were bodies in the gleaming blue pool, cleaving the water with gold- tanned arms; people were already lying on the loungers in the garden, their oiled bodies relaxed on spread towels, dark glasses hiding their eyes from the intrusive sun, some with straw hats on their heads.

fF

Nadine looked down on it all grimly. She had come here for a holiday, to relax and forget her workaday problems. She hadn't counted on meeting Sean here. Now, her mind and heart were in turmoil. She kept swinging between one mood and another, one decision and another—she didn't know what to do. The only thing she did know was that the man drove her crazy.