Biting her lip with vexation, Joanna saw that Tony and Mary were both staring at him in open admiration. The two fishermen sat uneasily silent, obviously aware that the previously relaxed group were now in conflict over what they had said.
Joanna forced herself to smile. ‘There's no need to go to those lengths,’ she said. ‘If you feel so strongly about it …'
‘I do,’ Paul interrupted.
‘If you really do feel so strongly,’ she repeated, raising her voice a fraction, ‘then why not spend another day and night here? I'm sure while we're anchored in their harbour and coming ashore spending money, the locals will be only too delighted to invent further fairy tales to prevent us from moving on.'
‘Jo,’ Tony murmured uncomfortably, ‘keep your voice down, love. I'm sure some of these people can understand what we're saying. We've had a couple of very funny looks.'
Paul got up, scraping his chair. ‘Come on, darling,’ he said to Mary. ‘Otherwise I might say something to Her Majesty that we might all regret.'
Joanna had already realised she had gone too far, and had been all set to apologise. But Paul's words halted the apology on her lips. After all, she thought, seething, it was Paul and Tony who had found Saracina on the chart and decided to make it the next port of call. All she had wanted was to stick to the arrangements that had been decided on. She disliked last-minute changes of plan, because in her experience they were invariably for the worse.
The thought of spending a further day in Calista, suffering the resentment of Paul and Mary, appalled her. Besides, she had really wanted to go to Saracina. Still wanted to, in fact, in spite of everything that had been said.
She drank some more wine, while the first germs of a plan began to ferment in her brain. So the others wanted to spend a day ashore here. Well, they were welcome to do so. She would take her bikini and a towel and some food and find a friendly boatman who would take her to Saracina. But she wouldn't tell the others what she intended to do. She would make the excuse she wanted to stay behind for another sunbathing session on Luana.
Her spirits rose. There must be someone on Calista who would be willing, for a price, to take her to Saracina and leave her there for a few hours. She would have a whole day in blissful solitude, while the other three wandered round the same streets, avoiding the same donkey droppings and being taken for a ride by the same street vendors. And it would just serve them right for being so stupid. She came back with a start to the present to find that the two fishermen were apparently taking their leave, leaning over Tony and talking rapidly in their own language.
‘What were they saying?’ she asked idly as they moved away across the smoky room.
‘I don't know. Paul's the language expert, not me. I could only pick up about one word in twenty,’ Tony frowned perplexedly. ‘But they were still talking about Saracina, and I could have sworn that the short one said something about a lion.'
‘First guns, now wild animals.’ Joanna's smile was satirical. ‘They must have a good reason for wanting us to keep away from there. Smuggling, I daresay.'
‘Well, it doesn't matter. We're going to steer well clear of the place. I don't like the sound of any of it,’ Tony said a little impatiently. ‘And there's Corsica to look forward to. Don't forget that.'
Joanna looked at him sideways under her long lashes. ‘Oh, I won't,’ she agreed sweetly.
They were interrupted at that moment by one of the local young men who had summoned up the courage to ask Joanna to dance with him. In spite of Tony's evident disapproval, she agreed charmingly, telling herself he needed to be taught a lesson and did not deserve any particular consideration.
She was much in demand for the remainder of the evening, as the local men vied with each other for a chance to partner her. It was all very flattering and a little heady, and as Joanna glanced through the crowd towards the table, she saw that Paul and Mary had returned and were sitting with their heads together with Tony. Criticising her, no doubt, she thought rebelliously. Well, she'd give them something to be critical about.
At last Tony made his way through the crowd to her side. ‘I think it's time we were going, Jo,’ he said tautly.
‘Oh, why?’ she laughed up at him, buoyed up by the chorus of groans from the men around her.
‘Because it's late.'
‘It's not that late, and it was you who discovered this place anyway.’ She knew she was being deliberately obstructive but told herself she didn't care. ‘I'm enjoying myself, and I don't want to leave. You three go on back. I'm sure I can find someone to bring me back to the boat later on.'
Tony looked furious. ‘No chance,’ he said grimly. ‘We'll wait until it's convenient for you to leave.'
Joanna watched him turn on his heel and walk away and sighed a little. She would have to leave, in spite of what she had said. She didn't want to give Paul and Mary any further ammunition for their complaints about her behaviour. And if she was truthful, she was tired herself.
So she followed Tony back to the table, apologised meekly but with a glint in her eye for having kept them all waiting, and allowed herself to be shepherded back to the Luana.
She had hoped that the wine and the dancing would have made Mary sleepy, but as they undressed awkwardly in a rather fraught silence in the tiny cramped cabin they shared, Joanna soon realised that Mary wanted to talk and was merely biding her time. It was also obvious that she viewed herself quite erroneously in the role of peacemaker.
Mary was quite willing to acknowledge that Paul should not have said what he did, but neither, she pointed out, should Joanna always expect her own way.
‘Tony's patience won't last for ever. After all, living with other people requires give and take,’ she declared sententiously.
‘Precisely,’ Joanna agreed a little drily, allowing Mary's rather self-righteous remarks about making sacrifices for the person you loved and not always expecting to be the centre of attention to drift over her.
But after her cousin's voice had died away and been replaced by quiet, steady breathing, Joanna lay awake, thinking.
Mary had been right about one thing, she decided. There should be an element of give and take in a relationship. The main problem with her father and herself was that they both seemed to be takers, she realised a little wanly.
It was not a particularly comfortable thought and she switched her attention to her plans for tomorrow with a pleasurable feeling of excitement. On her way through the saloon she had appropriated one of the local guide books that were kept on the boat, and now she reached up to the shelf above her bunk for the small torch she kept there.
The book dealt mainly with the larger islands in the vicinity, like Corsica, Sardinia and Elba. Saracina, which lay to the north of Corsica, barely merited a paragraph, but that was probably as much as its size warranted, she thought. As if anyone would want to keep people away from a place that size!
But as she read the book, she soon discovered that people had once been kept away with a vengeance. One of the features of Saracina, which appeared to be mainly rocky with a small fertile hinterland, was the remains of some old fortifications built by the islanders of long ago to keep away marauders like the Saracen Turks and Barbary pirates who had been the scourge of the Mediterranean at one time.
Joanna pursed her lips. In the ordinary way she would have enjoyed a visit to what was left of the fortifications. She liked scrambling around on historical sites and letting her imagination have full play. But this time, she felt she would stick to her original idea and find a quiet little beach to stay on, well away from Saracina town itself or any other centres of population that might exist. After all, on a beach she would be doing no harm to anyone, even hostile islanders who liked to emulate their ancestors by defending their privacy with guns.
She tossed the book aside