All right, I said. Ive got a friend who has a villa about a mile from here. Ill take you there first, get you some clothes, then Ill take you to your hotel. Or to the police - its up to you.
No - no police.
The reaction was sharp and definite.
I said, Why not? Theyd probably run them down without too much difficulty, the state I left them in.
No, theyve been punished enough. She was almost angry. And it wasnt that kind of assault. It wasnt how it looked. Dont you understand?
Curiouser and curiouser, and I think she was on the point of telling me more, but I had enough troubles of my own to carry without taking on anyone elses.
Your affair, I said. Anyway, lets get going.
I moved to the jeep, opened the door. When I turned she was still standing there at the cliff edge.
For Gods sake, I said. If Id wanted to rape you Id have been at it by now. And youre not my type. Thin as a rail and your hairs too short.
She didnt move an inch. Just stood there looking at me gravely, her face pale in the moonlight. I suddenly had that vaguely helpless feeling one gets on occasions when faced with a stubborn child, intent only on going its own way.
I said as gently as I could, All right, youve had a rough night, I understand that, but youve got to start trusting people again. My friends place is no more than a mile from here and shes a woman so shell be able to fit you up with some clothes, give you anything you want. You may have heard of her. Her name is Lillie St Claire.
The film actress?
The very same.
She came forward slowly, looking suddenly rather forlorn in that ridiculously large reefer coat and held out her hand again. Forgive me for doubting you, my friend, but I see now that you are a good man in spite of yourself.
Speechless and utterly defeated, I climbed in beside her and drove away.
Lillies place was a typical Ibizencan villa. What the locals called a finca, only on a grander scale than most. A great Moorish palace named the Villa Rose built on various levels to fit into the landscape at the end of the point. Castillian arches, iron-grilled windows, the whole so white that in the heat of the day it hurt to look at it.
A high wall surrounded the entire estate, palms nodding beyond, black against the night sky. The great, iron gates were locked tight. The old gnarled peasant who emerged from the hut, complete with Alsatian on a chain, flashed a torch at us.
Its me, Jose, I called.
He nodded without a word and returned to the hut, dragging the dog at his heels. A moment later the gates swung open and I drove through.
I could smell the lemon grove although I could not see it, the almond trees and palms swayed gently in the slight breeze, their branches dark feathers against the night sky. And everywhere there was the rattle of water. I pulled in beside the fountain at the bottom of the steps which led up to the great oak front door. When I got out Claire Bouvier joined me reluctantly.
You dont need to worry, I said. Most of the servants come in during the day. At night theres only an old crone called Isabel who does the cooking and Carlo, the chauffeur.
She gazed at me blankly. She needs a chauffeur at night.
You know how it is, I said. No knowing when she might feel like a ride.
I had pulled the chain at the side of the door and it swung open instantly to reveal Isabel, a gaunt old woman who had never ever uttered a word in my presence, though whether this was from some personal dislike of me Id never been able to discover.
She wore traditional dress as always. Blue shawl, a tight-fitting black bodice beautifully embroidered in gold, a black apron worn over the long ankle-length skirt. As usual, she didnt have a thing to say. Not even a flicker of emotion showed on that gnarled old face at the sight of the Bouvier girl, who to Ibizan eyes must have looked eccentric in the extreme.
Dont look her full in the face or youll turn to stone, I told the girl, and I led the way across the wide hall with its beautiful red and white ceramic tiles and mounted a curving staircase to the landing above.
Glass doors stood open to the night and beyond, most of the garden at that level was taken up by a superb illuminated swimming pool. The faithful Carlo was standing beside a wrought-iron table gazing up at the high diving board, a great ox of a man, shoulders bulging beneath the snow-white jacket.
The Love Goddess, Claire Bouvier whispered as she looked up at the slim figure in the black costume poised on the edge of the board.
Thats what they call her, I said, and as Carlo turned sharply, I raised my voice and cried, Heh, Lillie, come down out of there. Youve got visitors.
She waved, then dived a moment later, flashing down through the yellow light, entering the water with hardly a splash. As she surfaced at the side of the pool, Carlo moved in, bathing wrap at the ready. She slipped into it, eyes sparkling, that wide, wide mouth of hers opening into what must surely have been the most devastating smile of all time.
Why, Jack, lover. Its been an age. She kissed me, then grabbed an arm reasonably ostentatiously and turned her gaze on Claire Bouvier. I didnt know we were having a floor show.
Meet Miss Claire Bouvier, I said. I just saved her from a fate worse than you know what back along the road a piece.
How perfectly dreadful for you, darling, Lillie said, managing to sound as if she didnt give a tinkers damn in hell. You must tell me all about it down to every last rapacious detail. When you reach my age, you cant afford to miss out on anything. You have a swim or something, lover, Ill see you later.
Theres a thousand of those foul American fags you like in the back of the jeep. I said. Plus a case of Bourbon. A present from Turk. Shall I bring them in?
Good heavens, no. You might pull something mysterious. Ruin your sex life. Leave it to Carlo. Hes so much stronger than the rest of us.
Which was an undeniable fact for I had seen Carlo on occasion, training with weights in the yard by the garage at the back, and stripped he resembled Primo Carnera in his prime. Lillie grabbed the Bouvier girl by the arm and took her inside, Carlo bowed slightly and followed them.
Which left me very much on my own, so I went along to the changing room, found myself a pair of trunks and had a swim.
The salon was an exquisite room which had been based on an ancient Moorish design. The floor was of black and white ceramic tiles and the ceiling was blue, vivid against stark white walls. A log fire burned on the open hearth. I was sprawled at my ease in front of it, one of Carlos generously large gin and tonics in my hand, when Lillie came back in.
She really was the most amazing creature Id ever known. Must have been anywhere up to fifty - had to be to have done the things she had - yet even in the harsh, white heat of the day never seemed to look a day over thirty-five.
Like now, for instance, dressed in a long, black, transparent creation. As far as I could see, she didnt have a stitch on underneath and her legs must have been giving Marlene Dietrich a hard time for years.
She draped herself elegantly across me and kissed me, that mouth of hers opening wide enough to swallow me whole. When the tongue was finally tired of moving around she lay back with a long sigh.
Ive missed you, lover. Whereve you been?
Working.
Carlo appeared, a drinks tray in his gloved hands and gave her a martini. She took it just as she accepted the light he held out for her cigarette, as casually as if he didnt really exist. He withdrew silently to a position by the terrace.
She said, Where was it these hippies had a go at the kid?
Near the mill at La Grande.
She emptied her glass and paced restlessly across to the fire. The dirty bastards. They should drive them off the island, every last one of them.
Dont tell me youre frightened? I said.
She was almost angry when she turned on me. What if I am? Theyve done some funny things. Broken into peoples homes. This is a lovely place
With Carlo here? I demanded. Youve got to be joking. Hes the original six-at-one-blow man. I thought that was why you kept him around.
She changed completely, her face illuminated by that dazzling smile, the famous Lillie St Claire smile, as she moved across to Carlo.
Thats right. Of course it is. You wouldnt let them hurt me, would you, Carlo?
Carlo took the hand she held out to him and kissed it gently. From the look on his face Id say hed have torn the arms and legs off anyone who even tried.
She patted his cheek. Bless you, Carlo. Lets have a movie, shall we? What about The Door to Hell.
He moved away as silently as usual. She poured another drink and flung herself into the chair next to me. This was a ritual Id been through many times before. There was a small projection room at the rear of the salon and Carlo handled things at that end, using the smooth white wall next to the fireplace as a screen.
As the lights dimmed I said, What about the girl?
I left her in the bath. She shouldnt be long. Did she tell you how she came to be mixed up with those creeps?
I didnt ask.
I did. She said shed arranged to meet a friend at the windmill at La Grande at nine oclock. She went out there by taxi only he never showed. Then those pigs jumped her. She shook her head, The whole thing stinks to high heaven if you ask me.
Her affair, not ours.
She carried on as if I hadnt spoken. And her hair.
What about her hair?
I dont know. Its not natural. Reminds me of something and I cant think what. A picture I was in once.
Why dont you shut up? I said. and lets enjoy this one which, for a change, I dont think Ive actually seen before.
I think shed have given me the hard word at that except for the fact that at that moment, her face filled the screen and as usual, she was swept up in the greatest love affair since Antony and Cleopatra. That of Lillie St Claire for Lillie St Claire.
1938, she said. Id been in Hollywood two years. My first Oscar nomination.
She was standing at the top of a great flight of marble stairs in some sort of negligee or other, being menaced by the swords of half-a-dozen Roundheads, who all looked villainous enough to play Capone-style gangsters, and probably did the following week. At the appropriate moment an athletic-looking character in breeches and a white shirt dropped into the picture, a sword between his teeth and proceeded to knock all sorts of hell out of the Roundheads.
Jack Desforge, she breathed. The best there ever was.
Better than Lillie St Claire? I demanded.
Damn you, lover, you know what I mean. Dietrich, Joan Crawford. Oh, they were great. Wonderful, wonderful people. They dont breed them like that any more.
Only you were the greatest.
Look at my last film.
I didnt know anybody had done.
I ducked to avoid the glass she threw at me for the film was very much a sore point, an Italian production of the worst kind; a programmer which had sunk, as they say, without trace.
Behind us there was a slight polite cough and Claire Bouvier moved down to join us. She wore a pair of slacks and a polo-necked sweater which combined with the short hair to give her a strangely boyish look.
She looked up in some bewilderment at the sword play on the wall then turned to Lillie and said hesitantly, You have been most kind, Miss St Claire. I will see these things are returned to you tomorrow.
Thats all right, darling. You can give them to the deserving poor when youve finished with them. Lillie told her.
She didnt offer to put her up for the night which was much as I had expected for she was never one for competition in that quarter.
I said to Claire Bouvier, All right. Lets get moving.
She glanced first at Lillie, then at me, strangely diffident, then went up the steps and out into the hall. Lillie said, Do you fancy her?
I hadnt thought much about it.
Youd be making a mistake. Theres something funny about that kid.
She slid her arms about my neck and gave the full treatment, following this with a completely unprintable suggestion breathed into my right ear.
Impossible, I said.
Oh, I dont know, she said. We could always try. It shouldnt take you more than an hour to get down to Ibiza town and back again.
She kissed me hard, that mouth of hers opening wide again and beyond, I saw Carlo waiting respectfully, his face showing no expression worth noting, yet there was something in the eyes I think. I could almost feel the knife going in between my shoulder blades.
I patted her face, Perhaps, I said. Well see, and I moved out fast.
She didnt have much to say for herself on the way down to town. As we passed the mill where it had all begun I said, What in the hell were you doing up here on your own anyway?
I had an appointment to keep. With a friend.
Who didnt show? I was surprised at my sudden surge of anger. He should have his backside kicked, whoever he is.
She turned and looked at me sharply, but made no comment. I kept my eyes on the road. After a while she said, Tell me about yourself. What do you do?
Im a charter pilot. I keep a floatplane down at Tijola.
And Miss St Claire - you have known her long?
Long enough.
We were coming into the outskirts of Ibiza now and I took the direct route in along the Avenida de Espana. There were still plenty of bars open for the night, for Spain at least, was still young, but when I switched off the motor outside the small, waterfront hotel on the Avenida Andenes, it suddenly seemed very quiet.
She got out and moved to the entrance and I followed her. I dont suppose youd feel like a drink?
Not really, she said. Im very tired. You understand?
Of course.
She held out her hand and I took it, suddenly reluctant to let her go.
What can I say? she said. I owe you so much.
You could satisfy my curiosity
She thought about it for a long moment then nodded. Yes, I owe you that at least. You know the Iglesia de Jesus?
One of the most beautiful churches in the island.
Can you meet me there in the morning?
I think so.
Would ten oclock be too early?
Ill be there on the dot.
She took my hand again briefly. Thank you, dear friend, she said, reached up and brushed my cheek with the lightest of kisses, then slipped inside.