Callum. Sally WentworthЧитать онлайн книгу.
she murmured.
He nodded, but gave a sudden grin that was so different from his usual polite smile that it startled her. ‘Yes, but he always comes to cheer us along, and I think he expends more energy doing that than he would if he was with us crewing the boat.’
The waiter brought the wine and Calum turned away, leaving Elaine free to marvel at the change in him, to wonder whether there were depths to his character that he didn’t often show. But then she shrugged off the thought. What did it matter what Calum Brodey was like? He was merely a customer she had to be polite to, to keep happy until this week was over and he had paid her astronomical bill. His other side was none of her business, even though he seemed more interesting every time she met him.
She found that she’d ordered a dish of squid cooked with minced ham and onion in a tomato sauce: tasty but filling. During the meal Calum told her something of the history of the wine-lodge, and so of his own family. He made the story fascinating, describing the misfortunes that had hit his ancestors when they’d first come here, and told it so graphically that he made it seem like yesterday.
‘You ought to write a book about your family,’ she remarked.
He gave her an interested glance. ‘Do you think so? We have all the family records at home, of course, but no one has ever attempted to collate them. I suppose we’re all so used to the stories that we take them for granted.’
‘I think it would make an absorbing book.’
He acknowledged the tacit compliment to his ability as a raconteur with a nod. ‘Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I’ll give it some thought.’ But then Calum gave a rueful smile. ‘If I ever have time.’
‘Doesn’t your grandfather have time?’
She had his whole attention now. ‘My grandfather?’
‘Surely he knows more about your family history than anyone? If he doesn’t feel up to going through the archives and writing it up, then don’t you think he could write down his own story? That would be interesting for all your family and a must for anyone in the future who wanted to write a history of the House of Brodey.’
‘What an excellent idea. I’m sure that Grandfather will be feeling very flat once this week is over; I’ll put it to him then. It will give him a new interest.’ He gave her a warm smile. ‘Thank you, Elaine. I’m grateful.’
She shrugged. ‘It was the way you told me about your family that gave me the idea.’
She had eaten only half her meal and drunk sparingly of the wine; she didn’t like heavy lunches when she was working, and never drank very much anyway. But she had enjoyed this lunch, which was strange because she hadn’t expected to. Maybe it was sitting outside in the sun. Or maybe it was because of her companion.
Calum glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better get you back to the wine-lodge. I have to be back at the house this afternoon.’
‘Will you be working in your office there?’ Elaine asked. ‘I’m expecting a fax and I wondered if you could telephone it through to me,’ she explained.
‘I’ll arrange for it to be done,’ he told her. ‘We’re expecting Tiffany to call so I might be busy myself.’
‘Oh, of course.’
So he had made a date with Tiffany. It surprised her, though, that it was for the afternoon and at the house. Somehow Elaine had expected Calum at least to take his dates out to dinner. But then she remembered that he was a well-known and important figure in Oporto; maybe he didn’t want to be seen in public with Tiffany yet, didn’t want to give the gossips something to talk about.
Calum dropped her at the wine-lodge and lifted a hand in a casual wave as he drove on. Elaine watched him go, this handsome man in his sleek car, heading eagerly for a date with his blonde. Had he found the love of his life? she wondered. The fair English girl that his family tradition demanded? Well, whether he had or not, it was nothing to do with her.
Shrugging, Elaine went into the wine-lodge to get back to work, but again she found it difficult to concentrate and had to give herself a mental ticking-off before she could put Calum out of her mind.
BY ABOUT four Elaine had done as much work at the wine-lodge as she could before the actual event, so she and Ned Talbot took a taxi back to the palácio, intending to have a rest before the evening. Her chef, Malcolm Webster, was overseeing the preparation of the food in the kitchens of a nearby hotel and had telephoned in to say that all was going well.
Calum hadn’t telephoned her fax message through so Elaine went along to his office to see if it had arrived. It had, so it would appear that he was too engrossed in his date with Tiffany to have remembered her request. The fax was from London, detailing some changes that were being made for a business function for which she had already quoted. The organisers, of course, wanted her revised estimate urgently, so she spent the next hour sitting at the desk working it out. She was just typing it all out to fax through when Ned came in with tea on a tray.
‘I thought you’d like a decent cup of tea,’ he told her. ‘The people here don’t know how to make it properly even though they work for an English family.’
‘Have you had a rest, Ned?’
‘I napped for a while.’ He leaned towards her. ‘There’s great excitement here. They’re all talking about it in the staffroom.’
Elaine smiled; trust Ned to hear all the gossip, even if it was in a foreign language. He was in his forties, glossily clean, and still slim and pleasantly good-looking. He was single, and when she’d first hired him she’d been afraid that he might run after the waitresses, but soon found that he and Malcolm, the chef, were an item and had been for years. Now she had taken both men on to her permanent staff and all three of them worked in perfect harmony.
‘Why, what’s happened?’ she asked, knowing he would tell her anyway.
‘You know that big American—the one who got his face slapped at the party yesterday? It seems the Princess invited him here this afternoon at the same time as the girl who hit him. In the kitchen they’re saying that the girl and the American probably cooked up the whole thing between them. They said that there have been several girls over the years who’ve tried to attract Calum one way or another.’
‘Well, he seems to have fallen for this one,’ Elaine remarked.
Ned shook his head. ‘No, Calum sent for his car and the girl’s been taken home.’
‘He didn’t go with her?’
‘No, the chauffeur took her.’
So Francesca had spiked that budding romance, Elaine thought as she stirred her tea. She wondered how Calum would feel about it, and whether he would turn against Francesca for having spoiled it for him. But it was a risk the Princess had obviously been prepared to take. A thought occurred to her. ‘Didn’t the American leave with the girl?’
‘No. They said he left later in his own car.’ Realising what that implied, Ned said, ‘So maybe he and the girl didn’t plot it between them. Maybe she used him.’
It would seem that the latter theory was right, because when the family arrived at the wine-lodge that evening the American, Sam Gallagher, was with them. He was evidently a last-minute addition to the guest-list because Elaine hadn’t been told about him. Calum sought her out as soon as he arrived and, with a wry smile, asked her to set another place. He added, interestingly, ‘At least we know about this extra person; he isn’t a gatecrasher like the last time.’
‘The last time?’ Elaine questioned.
‘Yes. It seems that Tiffany Dean crashed the garden party,’ Calum said tersely. His mouth twisted, and for a moment there was a bleak