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At last they went, and Gil got up too. ‘You ought to eat—no, don’t shake your head at me. You’ll feel better if you have a light supper. How about an omelette? And some fruit? I’ll have them send it over at once. What would you like to drink? A hot, milky drink would help you sleep. There will be a security man outside the block all night so if you need help you only have to yell out the window, remember.’
‘I’ll be OK. With that boy in police custody I shall feel a lot safer.’
He nodded. ‘I’m sure you will. Goodnight, Bianca. I hope the rest of your holiday with us is going to be good deal less dramatic and far more pleasant.’
When he had gone she lay there staring at nothing. She couldn’t stay on here; she had to get away. She had to go home. She would have to come back for the trial in due course, but that would not happen for a long time.
Her meal arrived quickly; the middle-aged waitress who brought it did not look at her face, keeping her eyes lowered as she murmured a greeting which told Bianca that Gil had warned the woman not to stare at her. No doubt the whole hotel was gossiping about what had happened—even the other guests would have noticed the arrival of police cars, the departure of the suspect, rough-handled into a car and driven away. Bianca hated the idea of being talked about by a lot of strangers.
‘You eat in bed?’ the waitress asked Bianca, hovering with her tray.
Nodding, Bianca sat up straight with pillows piled behind her, and the waitress carefully placed the tray in front of her.
‘Anything else you want, please to ring,’ said the waitress, without lifting her eyes, and left with the usual, ‘Buenprovecho!’
The herb omelette was excellent; Bianca ate most of it, with a little green salad, drank all her wine, then, feeling rather better, lay down and surprised herself by going to sleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She slept through the night, too, and woke up with a start when some people walked past outside talking loudly. Yawning enormously, Bianca didn’t remember for a moment what had happened the night before, and then the memory came back with a thud like a blow and her eyes flew wide open. She sat up, looking hastily at the clock, and was stunned to see that it was around nine. She had slept for about eleven hours!
It was the best night’s sleep she had had since she got here, and she was amazed by that until she thought it over and realised that knowing that that young thug was in custody and would not, this time, be released, had lifted a pressure from her mind. She had been subconsciously worrying about him ever since the first night here, when she was attacked in Marbella.
She slid out of bed and opened her shutters; another bright, sunlit day. She stared at the blue sky and felt positively unreal. Everything around her looked like the advertisement for a wonderful holiday, but for her it felt more like a nightmare.
She turned away and went into the bathroom to shower, then stopped dead in front of the mirror, staring at herself in shocked dismay.
The bruises on her face were all the colours of the rainbow this morning. She certainly couldn’t face going over to the dining-room for breakfast; the idea of walking about getting curious stares was more than she could bear. She gingerly touched her face with a fingertip, wincing. How long would it take to get back to normal? Days?
She showered slowly, enjoying the clean feel of water on her face and body. The bruises were throbbing again, hot and stiff under her skin; she sighed with pleasure as the cool water ran over them. After a while, she towelled herself dry and wandered out to her bedroom to get dressed, but the phone rang as she was looking through her wardrobe.
‘I saw you had opened your shutters so I knew you were awake at last. How are you this morning?’ Gil’s voice said softly.
She caught back a sigh, wishing he hadn’t rung her. She didn’t want to see him, talk to him; she wanted to forget they had ever met.
Carefully she said, ‘Oh, hello. I’m fine.’
‘Hmm,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll come over later to see for myself.’
‘No!’ she broke out involuntarily, then hurriedly added, ‘I really don’t want to talk to anyone at the moment. I thought I’d just rest today.’
He sounded unsurprised and approving. ‘Very wise; in fact, I’d stay in bed if I were you—the doctor thought a day or two in bed would be a good idea. I’ll send Room Service over right away with some breakfast—what do you want? Anything cooked? Or just continental breakfast? Coffee or tea? Fruit juice?’
‘Coffee, orange juice, rolls, cherry jam,’ she said flatly. ‘Thank you.’
‘Get back in bed, then, and your breakfast will be with you in ten minutes.’
She looked at her bed as she hung up the phone, and decided to do as he said. Her energy levels were low this morning, she couldn’t go out anyway—why not spend the morning in bed? She could always get up this afternoon. First, though, she made her bed, and when it was pristine put on a new pink lawn nightie, climbed back into bed and lay back against the pillows, staring at the blue sky outside, listening to the birds and the sound of the sea.
There was a tap on her door and then the sound of a pass key being used. She turned her head lazily to give a polite smile to whoever was bringing her breakfast, and stiffened as she met Gil’s eyes.
‘Room Service,’ he said, advancing across the bedroom with a laden tray.
She should have guessed; why hadn’t she? Or had she secretly been expecting him?
No! she told herself angrily. Of course not. I’d have got dressed if I’d even suspected he might turn up!
‘Short of waiters this morning?’ she asked him coldly and he grinned, those grey eyes teasing.
‘I told you, I can do every job in the hotel trade; now, do you want to eat in bed or out on the balcony?’
