‘Yes, ma’am.’ His eyes were shifty.
‘I have rented it. You will begin work tomorrow morning. It will be your job to keep it clean. Do you understand?’
He stared at her, then nodded.
‘Can you cook?’
His eyes widened.
‘Cook? Well, no, ma’am. I can’t cook.’
‘It doesn’t matter. Your hours will be from eighty-thirty until seven in the evening.’
He twisted his hat in his hands, looking away from her.
‘Did you hear what I said?’ Helga snapped.
He stiffened, then nodded.
‘I will not have you nodding at me, Dick! You will say yes or no!’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
She regarded him as he stood in the hot sun, looking down, not meeting her eyes, his hands fidgeting with his hat, his expression sullen.
‘Listen to me, Dick! I am doing you a favour! If I gave that tape to the police, with your record, you would be in serious trouble. You understand that?’
He flinched, then nodded.
‘Yes, ma’am, and thank you, ma’am.’
She tried to resist asking the question, but burning curiosity proved too much for her.
‘Who was that girl?’
His fawn like eyes widened.
‘What girl, ma’am?’
‘The girl with the red hair.’
‘That’s Terry, ma’am.’
‘Terry... what is her other name?’
‘Terry Shields, ma’am.’
Helga felt a wave of impatience run through her. Why should she have asked? She might have known the girl’s name would mean nothing to her.
‘Then tomorrow at eight-thirty. I expect you to be punctual, Dick.’
His eyes shifted.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘All right. Now go along and play with your friends.’
She started the car’s motor and without looking at him she drove past the restaurant. The girls and the boys were watching her, but she didn’t see Terry Shields. Was this girl Dick’s special? She had stood so possessively by him when the others had run off. She had stared at her with hostility until Dick had spoken to her.
Competition?
Helga smiled.
She had no fear of competition. Dick would do as she told him: he had no alternative.
She would pack a bag and spend the night in the love nest, getting the feel of the atmosphere. There were things to buy. Milk, coffee, vodka... even toilet rolls. She must make a list. It was a long time since she had fun. It was a long time since she had been in a self-service store. It was also a long time since she had had a man in her bed. She had been patient. She had waited and waited and waited.
Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough!
Chapter six
Helga pushed the market cart down the aisle stacked with canned food. It was years since she had done this and she realized what she had been missing. Before she married Herman, she had always had a sandwich desk lunch and gone out in the evenings.
She watched women putting cans into their carts, staring at the prices, rejecting one can, taking another. This was another world to her: not the magic world in which Herman Rolfe lived, but a more exciting world of ‘Can I afford this! Should I splash out on that?’ Lulled by Herman’s money, this was a world she had forgotten.
She had a compulsive urge to buy. There were so many cans on the shelves with attractive labels that tempted her: red beans, chilli con carne, lobster tails, ravioli. Then there were packets of various soups, ham ready cut and so on.
She was like a first ever tourist gaping at the wonders of Rome. She kept filling her cart, happier than she could remember and when she reached the meat and poultry counter, she took a T-bone steak and was reaching for a chicken when she realized she had no idea how to cook them nor did Dick. So she reluctantly put them back and moved to the counter that displayed the ‘Heat and eat’ foods.
She bought more than she wanted, but it was fun and she had plenty of money. She bought four bottles of Vodka and three martini, a pack of beer and whisky.
She loved standing in a queue, waiting for the goods to be checked. She felt in touch with people for the first time in years. Finally, she wheeled the cart to the Mini and loaded her purchases on the back seat.
Returning to the hotel, she asked the Hall porter to have her clothes packed.
‘I will be in tomorrow morning,’ she said. ‘I won’t be in tonight.’
‘Certainly, madame. There is a cable just come in for your man, Hinkle.’
‘Give it to me. I will be speaking to him.’
In her suite, she read the cable. The message was brief and from Paris.
Impossible to come to Nassau. Daddy will survive. He always does. Sheila.
The cards were still falling her way, Helga thought. She had been worrying about Herman’s daughter. To have her here would have been embarrassing, but she was a little shocked at the girl’s callousness.
She put the cable in an envelope and addressed it to Hinkle at the Paradise City villa, then she packed an overnight bag, not forgetting two bikini swim suits, a beach wrap and sandals. She then called down to the Hall porter to send someone to take the bag to the car and ten minutes later she was driving to the Blue Heron villa.
Putting the Mini into the four car garage, she unlocked the front door and entered the big living room. She looked around. Mr. Mason, the estate agent, had paid tribute to her wealth. Roses, carnations and orchids were tastefully arranged in various vases. His card, on which was written: Have a pleasant stay, lay on one of the tables.
Nice man! she thought and going over to the french windows, she threw them open and wandered out on to the terrace.
This was just what she had hoped for, she thought. She made a tour of the villa, carried her suitcase up to the bedroom and put on a bikini. The time was now 17.36. There was time for a swim, then she would unpack the groceries, make herself a drink, turn on the Hi-fi set and spend the rest of the evening dreaming of tomorrow.
She delighted in having all this wonderful beach entirely to herself. As she returned from her swim, she heard the telephone bell ringing. She ran into the living room and picked up the receiver.
‘I hope I don’t disturb you, Mrs. Rolfe.’ She recognized Dr. Levi’s voice.
‘No, of course not. How is my husband?’
‘His condition is the same. It is most puzzling. I can assure you that he is in no danger, but until he comes out of this strange coma, Dr. Bernstein is unable to commence his tests.’
‘And when will that be?’ Helga asked impatiently.
‘We don’t know... any moment or much longer. I thought I should tell you we are satisfied that you have nothing to worry about. We must just wait.’ A pause, then he went on. ‘Dr. Bernstein has a very busy practice and he is returning to Berlin tomorrow. I am afraid I just can’t remain here with so many other patients needing my services. I will be returning to Paradise City tomorrow. Dr. Bellamy will alert us when Mr. Rolfe comes out of this coma.’ Another pause. ‘Needless to say both Dr. Bernstein and I have complete confidence in Dr. Bellamy.’
‘Oh, very well. If there is a change, please tell Dr. Bellamy to call me.’
‘That will be done of course, Mrs. Rolfe.’
She replaced the receiver, shrugging. For some minutes she thought of her husband, then with a grimace, she put him out of her mind and going to the garage she carried in the groceries and the drink, making two trips, but enjoying it.
Mr. Mason had turned on the refrigerator so there was ice. She made herself a large vodka-martini and drank it while putting the groceries away.
For the first time in years she would now prepare her own dinner. She looked through the various ‘Heat and eat’ packs she had bought and decided on the goulash pack. She read the directions and put on a saucepan of water. Then she found a pack of dehydrated potatoes. Again she read the directions which seemed simple enough and finding another saucepan she half-filled it with water and put that on the second burner.