Island Love Ch. 03

Five hours later, footsore, head throbbing, very hungry and thirsty, he walked through the airport car park to the entrance. On the board were three early departures, for London, Frankfurt and Milan. He was anxious to find Isabel but went first to buy a ticket. At the airline desks he found there was only a seat on the Milan flight, so he bought a ticket.

Isabel was nowhere on the departure floor. Philip did his best not to worry, telling himself she'd have cleared security before settling down to sleep. After a final round of the departure hall, he checked in, went through the security gate and came to a small mall of shops and restaurants, mostly closed. The departure gates for all three flights were on the board and he walked round each lounge. Tired and despondent, he went back to the Mall and bought a coffee from the one cafe that was open.

The coffee finished, he circled the Mall again. One or two shops were opening, but there were few people about. He was staggering with exhaustion, suffering the effects of the blow to his head and the struggle on the mountain more than the long walk. A couple of hours of sleep and he'd make sense of what had happened. Instead he became aware of a gradual, numbing sense of disaster and loss. Why couldn't he find Isabel? He'd been certain he'd find her at the airport. Could he have missed her on the road? Possibly, but not likely. He refused to believe she was dead. She was fit and smart and she must have been afraid of Gabriel following her. She'd have walked as fast as she could.

Ten minutes later he wanted to shout out her name and start running. He sat down and stared at the departure board in the hope of inspiration. What had been wrong with his reasoning? Gabriel might have seen Isabel divert from the path to go to the cave. He might have caught her after she'd written the note. It would have been very bad luck, but possible. He told himself that Isabel wouldn't have let it happen.

"She's alive." He said it aloud.

He noticed a police security post tucked away at one end of the mall. In fear of losing his wits, he jumped up, intending to ask if they had any information about Isabel. He could report her missing. He could explain about the chase over the mountain.

But when he got the sleepy policeman's attention, he said something different - he told the policeman that he'd seen a walker lose the mountain path and fall over a precipice. Of course that wasn't the whole truth, but he felt the burden of responsibility for what he'd done lessen as he told the story.

The policeman's English was not good and he seemed unimpressed with the bedraggled man before him. It took a while to get him to understand the main point. He asked some questions: when had it happened? He seemed reluctant to believe that Philip had walked across the island in the night. Where had it happened was even more difficult to answer.

"On the mountain."

"Which mountain?"

"The big one. The Table of the Gods."

This earned an incredulous stare. "They're all big. Was it dark?"

"The highest. There was a little light left."

"Are you sure you saw him clearly. There are lots of goats in the mountains. Where on the mountain?"

Philip couldn't explain except to say that it was on the seaward side before the summit. The policeman seemed to lose interest and said he'd write out a statement "in case anyone is missing."

Missing... the words struck hard. Isabel was missing. He gripped the edge of the policeman's booth and swallowed. He wanted to ask the policeman about Isabel, how he could find out what had happened to her, but no words came.

His flight was called. Then he was startled by a slap on his back. He turned and found Zoltan and Blister.

"What's up young fellow? Had you're pocket picked?" asked Zoltan, nodding at the policeman.

"Glad you found a lift," said Blister. "What a night!"

"Is Mimsy okay?" he asked, preoccupied and searching for something sensible to say.

"Offered her a lift, but she wanted to stay and watch the fun. She doesn't think our relationship will work so well outside that fairy tale palace. I guess she's right."

Tim appeared and Philip asked him if he'd seen Isabel. Tim shook his head. "We've been in the VIP lounge. She wasn't there. You look dreadful. Let me get you a coffee."

Tim had a ticket for Frankfurt and looked happy and calm. They sat drinking coffee and Tim explained that he and Nicole had decided to separate.

"She's flying to Milan. She may even be able to sort herself out, in which case we might get back together eventually. Who knows? But for now we only make one another miserable. Why are you flying to Milan?"

"I don't know. It's the only way of getting off this godforsaken island."

It seemed to Philip that the resort had brought only misery to everyone. The best he could do was forget everything that had happened there - except for the fact that he'd ended his marriage. "I thought of taking the train to Venice. It's a favourite place." He'd thought of the plan while walking and had imagined going with Isabel. What was the point if he was alone? "I may spend a few days on the beach before making for the Dolomites. I can sit on the Lido and watch the world go by."

"Von Achenbach and Death in Venice," mused Tim. "Think of something better."

Philip shook Tim's hand and wished him luck, then joined the boarding queue for his flight. He was alone without hope, unemployed and desperate. Venice was a bad idea and who did he know in Milan? There was a delay getting passengers onto the plane. He stood head down in the queue submerged in thought. He did his best to think about what lay ahead but couldn't escape the memory of his final conversation with Isabel.

"She's alive," he insisted to himself. "I let her go. Rightly so because she was right. My interest in her was never more than shallow, self-interested and lustful. Of course it would have been impossible for us to have had a long-term relationship. There's too much anger in me - what had she called it? - fury at the world. After all, I killed a man, I'm a murderer. Nothing's left in the world that matters. I put everything into my marriage and failed."

Why fly at all? He was gripped by a vision of Isabel lying injured on the mountainside. He should go back and look for her, or at least raise the alarm.

He came to the front of the queue unable to decide anything and held out his boarding card. The airline attendant asked him a question and he was interrupted from behind. He ignored the interruption, struggling to focus on the question.

"Philip, are you trying to avoid me?"

He thought it must be Nicole. When he looked round, it was Isabel, pale and alert, eyes smiling and full of life. She made no effort to hide her pleasure at seeing him. The attendant was speaking, handing back his boarding card. Confused, he struggled with relief, happiness, disbelief and tried to hear as Isabel spoke from behind three or four people in front of her in the queue.

"This is a surprise. Philip, why are you here?"

"Leaving, like everyone else. I thought you were dead."

"I just made it in time. I was worried about you."

"I must have overtaken you on the road and not seen you."

"I found a garage where they cooked me breakfast. I was famished. I expect you missed me then."

"I looked everywhere."

"I wasn't looking for you. I thought we'd said goodbye."

"You ended it but I had to be sure you were alright."

"You look as if you've fallen down the mountainside."

He tried to turn back; the attendant insisted he board and shepherded him through the gate. Outside on the apron he breathed hard in the dawn air and stared at Isabel through the glass. She looked small, her skin so pale he fancied he could see through it. He'd crossed the island with no thought other than finding her. Now everything about her was unexpected and he had no idea what to do next.

When at last she stepped onto the apron they both laughed with relief, but didn't kiss or touch.

"We seem to be stuck on the same plane," he said cautiously. "If you want, I can sit on my own."

"I'm so pleased you're here."

They both needed some time to adjust, but when he hesitated, she took his hand and led him to the rear door of the aircraft. It was a flight without seats allocated and they sat down together. "What's changed from when we said goodbye," he wondered and could think of nothing to say.

"What will you do in Milan?" she asked.

"You need to be careful. By then I'll know all about you and that's not what you wanted. I thought of going to Venice."

"You'll go to sleep. Why Venice?"

"A place to run away to. More sun and sand. Or maybe, if I've got the energy, I'll make straight for the Dolomites."

"More mountains. There are good places to eat in the Veneto. You need to fatten yourself up a little. Tell me what happened to you after I left you on the beach. I worried all the way here about leaving you with that man."

He told her how the fight had gone and she cried out when he said he'd been knocked out. She examined his head carefully and he winced when she touched the bruise on his scalp.

"I was okay. Tibby was kind and helped me out. We were able to talk and then we kissed goodbye and that's all done. I can't say we parted friends, but we understand one another better. She's had a hard time and I think she's learned from it."

"But you came after me."

"I was worried about you." He wanted to tell her what happened on the mountain but realised he couldn't continue. After a silence, he said: "Okay, you're right, we don't know one another, but love thrives on mystery not facts. What will you do in Milan?"

"I'll see my daughter."

"What will you and your daughter do?"

"She'll tell me everything that's happened to her since I went away."

"And will you tell her what happened to you?"

She was thoughtful. "Some of it. The beach. Climbing the mountain." She felt his involuntary shudder. "What happened on the mountain?"

"It's been a tough night."

"Go to sleep."

"Not until you tell me what you meant by the note."

He opened his wallet and took out the crumpled piece of paper, smoothing it between his fingers. She leant again him as she read what she'd written.

"I'm glad you read that. Our time together meant so much and I was missing you and had time to think as I walked. I stood on top of the mountain and cried because you weren't there with me. We were good, that's what I knew. Everything else aside, you're a force of nature. I like that."

"But you didn't think I'd come after you or read the note. You were happy never to see me again. You think I'm angry and violent."

"You must forgive me. I was frightened by how fast things were moving and I was troubled by my feelings for you. It was too much like losing control. And you were in the throes of ending your marriage. We made love and I panicked. How could I be so careless and impulsive? It wasn't my image of myself - aloof and in control."

He laughed. "That was my image of you too - the one you were so certain was my irresponsible fantasy, the femme fatale, the cool beauty who lures men to their doom. But I've survived everything. I'm still here."

"You are ... but a bit battered." They both laughed. "You're right, it was I who failed to understand you. I should have seen that you were different, but we gave one another the wrong messages from the start. I blame the resort."

They were silent. He needed to be alert for every moment he had with her and was bothered he'd fall asleep. "I have to tell her that I murdered Gabriel," he told himself.

He said: "We arrive in Milan in less than an hour and a half and we say goodbye for the second time? It was nice knowing you and all that. Will Beatrice be waiting for you in Milan?"

"There's been no time to arrange anything. It'll be another day before I can see her. We left in a hurry and I haven't thought that far ahead. I don't want to lose you."

"Then don't."

"Tell me about this plan of yours for a business."

"I like being out in the mountains and I think I could be a good guide. I have no ties so it makes sense to try and make a living from what I enjoy doing."

"You told me it was the most wonderful thing finding me waiting for you outside your chalet. I felt the same when I saw you in the queue a moment ago. I'm still tingling from the shock."

"You're pleased to see me despite my being furious with the world?"

"We all have anger in us. It was wrong of me to criticise you."

He looked out of the window as the aircraft was pushed backwards onto the taxiway. It wasn't the moment to tell her what happened to Gabriel; they needed to understand one another better. He guessed he'd never fully get over what happened in those final few moments in the dusk. He wished it hadn't happened but had no reason to feel guilty. Would anyone miss Gabriel? His mother perhaps. The man had hated the world, hated himself and hated the people he knew for not loving him. There was nothing to be gained from telling others what had happened. They had no chance of understanding. If he told Isabel, it would be because he was weak, hoping that she'd share the burden.

"You didn't see anything of Gabriel?" he asked cautiously. "You must not have known, but he came after you over the mountain."

She tensed. "You mean he might be here."

"No. I went all over the airport searching for you and he's not here."

He waited for her to ask a question. When she didn't, he pulled out the inflight menu card. "I think a jumbo barbecue-style hot brunchburger is what I need. And a lager. Will you order for me if I fall asleep?"

They needed time. The aircraft started to move along the taxiway and Isabel bent across him to look out of the window. Dawn was coming fast, the rim of the sun blazing like fire from behind the ridge of the mountains. Philip was drowsy and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep but was aware of the smell and feel of Isabel close against him. This was what one lived for. All that had happened in the resort didn't count. She was right: he had been preoccupied with ending his marriage. And too much had happened to allow either of them the peace to explore one another. He relaxed, letting the tension drain out of him. Given time she would confess that she loved him, but for now it was enough to be together. He couldn't see into the future but his nightmare was behind him and he knew his life had changed for the better.

"Philip, have you gone to sleep, because you didn't hear what I said. I said I'd come to Venice if you want me."

He stirred, turned in his seat and kissed her. She smiled and kissed him back.

"We could take the vaporetto to Murano and the Lido. Maybe find a hotel on the Lido de Jesolo."

"Then what? You'll go back to being an accountant?"

"Why not? It's a way of earning a living. I could be your accountant for your walking company." She laughed. "I have experience of the holiday business."

"Just think about it. Business emails to and fro, you working from home in a different country with your daughter, angry with me for not submitting my receipts on time."

"It's not a good idea? I think we could make something special together. I'd want to do the walking too."

"I can see you now under a big hat striding through the Corsican maquis. Our customers would be terrified of you."

"You've sold me the idea. Let's do it as soon as we can."

"You don't know who I am and don't trust me to meet your daughter, but you're ready to go into business with me?"

"I know you better now. But you didn't hear what I said. Beatrice isn't expecting me yet and I can tell my parents to bring her to Venice. They love Venice and would be glad of the excuse."

"You'd introduce me to your parents as well as your daughter? I don't even have a job. They'll think I'm a waster who's aiming to be kept by their beautiful but impoverished daughter."

"They're sensible. They'll see how things are."

"And Beatrice? Is she sensible too?"

"She'll tell you off for looking scruffy."

"I'll show her how to build the best sandcastles."

He kissed her again and they were pushed back in their seats as the aircraft accelerated and lifted into the sky.

THE END