A Girl Called Tegi (4 page)

He shot her an enquiring glance with arched brows. ‘No, why?’ she asked guardedly.

‘Because this built-in instinct that women usually have about men is strong in your case, probably because you are a good girl.’

Tegi laughed. ‘You make me sound like some prim and proper spinster! I might not sleep around, but I’m only a normal kind of girl. Incidentally, I made a vow never to become involved with men on motorbikes and take a back seat, as it were.’

Tegi felt she had scored with that one. If Tony was warning her about the kind of man he was
—
the kind who lists everything under the name of show business—then she was warning him off too.

But there was no feeling of happiness about it. When he
finally swung the car off the highway along a narrow country lane she was feeling pretty deflated.

The hotel he drew up at was a black and white timbered place with carriage lights on the walls lighting up the facade. He parked the car and they entered a rosy lit bar with only a few people sitting on high stools ordering drinks.

Tony escorted her to
a table in a corner and they sat down.

‘Been to this place before?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘Have you?’ As if she did not know! How many girls had he brought there before her? She hated to think about it.

‘I have many times, and it is not for the reason you think. They happen to keep the local wine from my village in Tuscany. I suggest some pasta and a bottle of wine.’

The pasta was delicious, the wine heady. ‘You like it?’ he asked.

‘Delicious
!’

‘There is nothing like it?’ he insisted.

‘There’s nothing like it,’ she agreed, wondering if it was the wine making her feel giddy or his nearness. ‘The wine is what you
call full-blooded.’

He nodded. ‘To drink it is to feel the golden light of Tuscany sliding down your throat.’

In the subdued lighting of the room he suddenly looked very foreign with
his teeth white in the deep tan of his face and his dark eyes glowing between his absurdly long eyelashes.

‘Tell me about Tuscany,’ Tegi begged, loving his nearness across the small table.

‘You really want to hear about it? I shall bore you to tears. You see, you are my captive.’

Her heart lurched. ‘Your captive?’ She stared.

Tony laughed. ‘My captive audience,’ he teased. ‘I can pour out all my heart to you about how rewarding my life has been and you have to stay put and listen. Are you not dismayed by the horrible prospect?’

She watched him run his fingers through his rough black curls.

‘Should I be?’ Her eyes were clear and wide, her skin like porcelain, her lips pink and very tempting.

He reached for her hand across the table. ‘You are very pretty,’ he said. ‘I have met lots of girls these last few years and one is more or less like another. I have made up my mind to finish racing this year. I am going back home.’

‘To Tuscany?’

‘Of course. Your island is very beautiful, but in my country the sun warms the heart. My father wants me home to take some of the work from his shoulders. We have a farm and vineyards.’

He went on to tell her of the shimmering silver-grey of olive trees, the promontoried hills with ochre and apricot villas clinging to their slopes, the sentinel cypresses, the fuchsias, petunias, and zinnias glowing against sun-kissed walls.

Their farm was four hundred years old set against hyacinth-tinted hills and column upon column of vines. Tegi had dreams in her eyes as she listened. In the years to come she would be recalling one certain fabulous summer when she had met this tall, tanned, terrific man, a Renaissance prince from Tuscany who had temporarily changed his h
o
rse for a motorbike, and had ridden away with her heart.

‘Do you ride?
’
she asked.

He grinned. ‘The farm is a large one, and riding is the best way of getting around. Do you ride?’

Tegi shook her head as seas seemed to divide them already. He was not for her nor she for him. She wondered what kind of people his parents were.

In their century-old house they would not be interested in a girl called Tegi. No doubt they had someone already lined up for Tony to marry. He had lit a cigarette and was smiling at the waiter who had brought his change after paying his bill. The man was profuse in his thanks for the tip he gave him. It was easy to see that her companion was liked by both sexes. I bet his mother adores him, she thought.

I am going back home, he had said. My father needs me. The statement buzzed in her brain. I need you too, she wanted to say. I think of you all the time. The mere thought of you sends the blood rushing madly through me.

It was the hardest thing she had ever done, this trying to remai
n
aloof when her whole heart cried out for him. He had barely squeezed her hand across the table, dropping it again as he had got out a cigarette. Tegi knew that she was an idiot in dabbling in dreams.

Once more in the car, she drew back in her corner not knowing what to say. The short outing with him had been pleasant, but she knew it would be the forerunner of a sleepless night for her.

‘You are quiet,’ he remarked as they drew near to the town. ‘Did you enjoy it, or would you have preferred a visit to a disco?’

‘I enjoyed it very much. I don’t go to many discos. I don’t like the noise.’

He stopped the car on a quiet stretch of the country road, then he turned slowly to frame her face in his hands.

‘Who are you waiting for, Tegi?’ he asked. ‘Some knight on a white charger?’

Her heart was a crazy machine fast running out of control as his head came nearer. His first kiss was a mere pressure of his mouth on her soft lips, so was the second and the third. When his lips moved down into her neck his arms tightened.

Swooningly, her hands reached up blindly and cupped the back of his head, her fingers loving the feel of the dark springy curls of hair. There was a faint pleasant aroma of sandalwood soap mingling with tobacco probing her bemused senses. It was then she noticed the change in him.

He lifted his head and his dark eyes burned into hers in the gloom. The sudden descending of his mouth was anything but gentle on her inviting lips. The kiss burned into her very being as he forced her head back against the seat. Tegi was not herself any more as latent desires inside her flamed into life.

She found herself straining towards him unashamedly as his mouth moved passionately over hers.

As from a great distance she heard him murmur her name felt him drawing her closer until every bone in her body felt in danger of cracking. The magic of the night was all about her as she surrendered to ecstatic moments of time which once passed would never be regained.

It was the strangely thick voice of Tony breaking through her bubble of happiness which put the brake on her passion. He was murmuring endearments in Italian, softly, seductively. His deep voice ended with an unsteady note in it as he reverted to English.

‘You are sweet, and all mine,’ he murmured. ‘You have been waiting for me.’

He spoke exultantly with complete masculine arrogance as if he had undoubtedly made her his. How expert he was in making love, or the approaches to it! He did it so expertly as if he was a connoisseur of women.

Tegi began to struggle. She had been made to get herself into such an impossible situation from which there was only one way out—complete surrender. Deep down inside her she knew that her madness would return once she was in his arms and no price would be too high to pay for the ecstasy of it.

Her only instinct was to escape from the results of her own folly.

‘Please, I have to go,’ she cried.

Tony was puzzled, she could tell, but he let her go and started the car. Neither of them spoke for the short journey to the house. Tegi was out of the car before he could move.

She slammed the door of his car shut after her. ‘Goodbye,’ she said.

‘
Ciao
,’ he replied, lifting a long brown hand. His dark eyes were those of a stranger.

Tegi stumbled indoors minus the feeling of satisfaction of hanging on to her virtue. Even the fleeting thought that he would find her difficult to forget did not help. There would be others for him.

For herself, her probing of what the sweet mystery of life was all about had ended in a rude awakening.

No longer was she uncertain about her future—what she wanted.

Like other girls she wanted a husband, but not the taken-for-granted drifting into marriage with someone like Colin. She wanted an exciting partnership in which she could climb to the utmost heights of happiness. Her children when they came would be the outcome of a loving partnership.

As one would sink into the depths of unhappiness so one could scale the heights of happiness and ecstasy. It could happen. The only snag was could she find the same fulfilment she had found in Tony in some other man? So far she had only touched on the preliminaries to lovemaking, but the magic had been there, bringing alive passion she had no idea of possessing.

She undressed slowly, put on her pyjamas and climbed into bed.

CHAPTER THREE

The
following morning, calling for Tegi, Beryl was delighted to hear that Tony Mastroni had given her a lift home.

She said apologetically, ‘I was going to wait a bit longer for you, but he offered to run you home.’

‘
I never expected you to wait with Adam being at home,’ Tegi replied, knowing her friend had a nose for romance. It seemed she was already picking up the scent.

Beryl prattled on. ‘Awfully good-looking, isn’t he, and so well spoken. I believe he’s very popular among the riders. Did he ask you for a date?’

Tegi shook her head, determined not to enlarge on it. ‘He was actually on his way to Ramsey to see a friend, so he didn’t go out of his way to give me a lift.’

Tegi tried to sound casual. She did not want to think of Tony Mastroni again. He was not her kind and she felt that no good would come of them meeting again.

Nothing more was said, but she was relieved when Beryl dropped her off to begin her working day. Midday, she ate a packed lunch, sitting on the sea-front. Her drink was a can of orange juice.

Colin joined her with the news that a colleague of his at the office was going to Greece with his girlfriend for his holidays and wanted them to join him.

Tegi munched a sandwich. ‘Your mother won’t like that.’

She watched the Adam’s apple in his throat move up and down as he drank from a can of Coke and found herself comparing him unfavourably with Tony.

The thought of going away with Colin did not do much for her morale. Not that there would be any hanky-panky; Colin was too afraid of his mother to do anything risky such as sharing her bed, and she was not that kind of a girl.

‘What has Mother to do with it?’ he asked.

Tegi took an apple from her lunch pack and sank firm white teeth into it. Her answer came slowly.

‘I thought she kind of governed everything you did.
You rushed off last night when you could have stayed a bit longer. After all, you didn’t have to go so quickly.’

He said rather gruffly, ‘I didn’t leave you on your own. You were with Gary.’

She laughed. ‘You never exert yourself, do you, Colin? Or is it because you aren’t very interested?’

He raised a ginger brow. ‘Interested in what?’

‘Forget it. Colin, I’m twenty-five and I’m beginning to wonder which way I’m heading in my life. What about you?’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’ve never actually thought about it. Come to think of it, I’d like to settle down with you some day.’

‘Thanks,’ she answered sarcastically. ‘You’ve made my day
!’

Colin looked hurt. ‘Don’t you like me that way?’

Tegi flung her apple core so violently that it sailed over the sea wall into the water. Her fingers had itched to throw it at him.

She said frankly, ‘No—at least not enough to wait until such time as you’ll get around to thinking about it.’ She clenched her hands. ‘Don’t you see how dismal and banal you make it all seem? Can you imagine it? “Tegi, I’ve been thinking it over and I’d be very happy if you would name the day, preferably in about two years’ time”?’

She mimicked him and he looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.

He said, ‘You’re angry with me, aren’t you? I did suggest us going away together for a holiday.’

Her laughter was almost hysterical. ‘You kill me, Colin,’ she gasped. ‘You really do!’ She put her hand up to touch his face. ‘Poor Colin
!’

Colin took her hand and kissed her fingers. ‘I do like you an awful lot, Tegi,’ he said on a serious note. ‘In fact I’ve often wondered about my luck in having you for a companion when you’re so attractive and could have your pick of most fellows around.’

‘Oh, sure. My engagement book is bursting with dates,’ she retorted scornfully.

He said stubbornly, ‘It’s true. There are lots of fellows who’d give their ears for a date with you. One or two in the office are always asking about you. You see, you have this air about you, kind of conservative. You don’t go about flaunting your charms—and they’re very considerable. You have a smashing figure, hair like pure silk and eyes like rock pools.’

Tegi gasped in astonishment. ‘Colin, you’re almost a poet! I never thought you had it in you.’

‘That wasn’t my description,’ he admitted honestly.

‘It was what one of the fellows at the office said who described you like that to a colleague. They were pulling my leg by saying some chaps have all the luck.’

‘You’d better fix me a date with him,’ she told him flippantly.

‘You don’t mean that, do you, Tegi?’ Colin looked so startled that she had to laugh.

‘Of course I don’t. Where’s your sense of humour?’

He gave an audible sigh of relief. ‘You had me worried.’ He brightened. ‘What are you doing tonight?’

Tegi shot him a very bright glance. ‘Tuesday. But you never see me on Tuesday.’ Her eyes were on the Adam’s apple in his throat again. It really was prominent. It kind of spoiled him. But she knew it would not have done had she been in love with him. A silly old Adam’s apple would not have mattered at all. But she was not.

Her voice was gentle. ‘I’m sorry, but Dorothy is home, as you know, and I don’t know what’s been arranged for this evening. Thanks for asking me, though.’

On the way home that evening Beryl did not ask any questions about
Tony and Tegi was thankf
u
l. Her friend did not waste any time in getting home, and Tegi marvelled about the wonder of love. It had certainly transformed Beryl, who glowed like a peony. She was very excited at the prospect of having a house of her own in which to begin her married life, and could not stop talking about it.

Tegi entered the house to the appetising aroma of steak and kidney pie and baked potatoes.

‘I
s that you, Tegi?’ called her mother from the kitchen as she entered the hall. ‘Will you pop out for a carton of double cream for me?’

Tegi stopped with her jacket half off and shrugged into it again. Her mother was at it again, dreaming up some special treat for dessert, and all for Dorothy.

‘Is Dorothy helping you?’ she asked, and knew that would be the day.

‘No, she’s getting ready for this evening, a special date with someone in Douglas.’

Tegi flung herself out of the house on the errand, trying not to feel hurt at the thought that her sister’s date that evening could be with Tony. What did it matter to her anyway?

What did matter was her mother’s silly doting on her younger daughter. She went to tremendous lengths, buying extras they not only did not need but could ill afford, while Dorothy was home. To make matters worse her sister never lifted a hand to help with the chores when she was home.

Supper was over, Tegi had washed the dishes, rinsed the tea-cloths and had sat with Gary to help him with his homework. Dorothy had gone upstairs to complete her toilet for going out that evening and when Tegi went upstairs to the room they shared she found it in a shambles.

Dorothy had obviously been unable to make her mind up about what to wear. Clothes and shoes were strewn everywhere. Tegi began to gather them up when a quiet knock came on her door.

Her father was there. His eyes danced and she had a picture of what he had been like years ago before his back injury had carved lines of suffering into his face.

‘How would you like an evening out with your dad?
’
he asked. ‘I should be going to a dinner this evening at the Palace Hotel in Douglas. It’s given by the veteran riders of the T.T. and your mother was going with me. Now she doesn’t want to go
—
too tired after slaving over a hot stove.’

Tegi tightened her hold on an armful of shoes and stared at her father in dismay.

‘I’d better go to her,’ she said.
‘I
can’t believe she doesn’t want to go with you. Why, she’s always saying you don’t take her out enough.’

He lifted his hands in a futile gesture. ‘Maybe you can persuade her—I can’t. And we haven’t got all night. Joe Kelly is calling for us at eight sharp.’

Her mother sat in the lounge with her feet up on a footstool and the local newspaper in her hand. By her side on the coffee table was a cup of freshly made coffee. She looked cool and non-committal and rather as though she was enjoying herself.

She said quietly, ‘I can see your father has told you I’ve decided not to go with him to this reunion. You’ll have to go in my place.’

Tegi pushed the heavy auburn hair from her face and blinked several times to make sure that she was really hearing aright.

‘But ... but you’ve always gone before. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?’ she gasped.

‘Perfectly. This isn’t something that hasn’t happened before. It happens every year and I hear it for months afterwards. I’m settling this year for an oral account from your father of the whole proceedings that I should have whether I go or not. It will be as good as going.’

Tegi sat down on the wide arm of one of the comfortable chairs.

‘Doesn’t it matter to you that Dad is upset about it?—besides, look at the position you’re putting me in,’ she argued crisply.

‘Your father isn’t upset. He’s going, isn’t he? All you have to do is to accompany him. Is that too much to ask?’

‘Of course it is. Who wants to go to a dinner with a lot of old has
beens? Not me. Why didn’t you suggest to Dorothy that she should go with Dad?’

Her mother smiled. ‘Well, she is rather young for it. You’re more sensible.’

‘Sensible? Wait until I get my shawl and stick and I might borrow Dad’s reading glasses. Really, Mother! I’m not senile yet. I’m only twenty-five.’ Tegi sighed a little hopelessly. ‘Oh, come on, pull yourself together
!’

‘I have. That’s why I’m not going.’

Tegi let a second or two elapse before she rose to her feet. Her mother was already immersed in the newspaper.

She made one last appeal. ‘I suppose it doesn’t occur to you that I shall have to lie about you saying you’re indisposed or something equally untrue?’

Her mother’s smile was sympathetic. ‘I’ve put up with your father’s selfish concentration on himself for long enough. It’s kind of built up over the years and overwhelmed me.’

‘I’ll say! Now it’s overwhelming me.’ Tegi sighed. ‘If you don’t want to go, you don’t.’

‘What does she say?’ Her father met her in the hall and she managed a smile.

‘It’s all right, Dad, I’m going with you. I’ll get ready.’

Tegi mounted the stairs with mixed feelings. She was committed and if there was anything she hated it was having to
r
ush and get dressed for a dinner date. Not only that, she was not looking forward to sitting among veteran bike enthusiasts drooling over past victories.

Lethargically she opened the wardrobe for one of her few decent evening dresses and when frantic searching failed to reveal it the awful truth dawned. Dorothy had borrowed it. Her best dress, and one that she had saved up to buy, was now gracing the shapely form of her younger sister.

Tegi groaned and grabbed one of her old dresses. As she had expected, the bathwater was lukewarm after Dorothy had hogged it all. I’ll kill her, she told herself desperately.

Gasping and towelling herself into exhilarating warmth, she thought she heard her father calling. Ignoring him, she reached for dainty undies and dressed herself quickly. Then he was tapping urgently on her door.

‘Colin is here. He wants to see you,’ he called.

‘That’s all I need.’ Tegi’s eyes were dark fire. Her soft lips tightened. ‘Tell him to get lost
!’

The olive green silk dress had a neat square rather flattering neckline that gave a provocative glimpse of the niche between her firm young bust. Large gold loop ear-rings set off the tailored simplicity and
T
egi, feeling slightly mollified, clipped on a gold bracelet.

She was looking for her evening slippers when her father called once again. He was always ready hours before time, and she paused with one of the slippers in her hand while she searched for the other.

‘Hurry
!’
her father said urgently. ‘Joe will be here soon.’

Tegi muttered beneath her breath, beginning to see more reasons than one why her mother had refused to go to the dinner. Her father would harass her all the time she was getting ready to hurry.

She found her other slipper under the bed and wondered how it had got there. But then Dorothy had no respect for other people’s property. It was a wonder that she could find any of her own belongings, swamped as they were by her sister’s.

Snatching up her evening bag and stole, Tegi ran downstairs to where her father was waiting in the hall. His constant preoccupation with gazing at his watch did not prevent him from giving her a look of appraisal.

‘I always said you were the beauty of the family,’ he said. ‘I shall be proud of you tonight.’

A room had been set aside for them at the hotel with photographs of ace riders from the past looking down on them from the walls. Tegi was pleased now that she had worn the olive green dress and lace stole, for most of the women wore unobtrusive gowns most appropriate for older women. Hers blended in with her surroundings.