I was afraid her low, clear voice might reach Maxwell's ear. He was obviously listening. I cut in on her.
"I'll fix it. Good-bye for now," and I hung up.
Maxwell stared inquisitively at me.
"Do you always treat your lady callers like that?" he asked as he glanced through the cables on the desk. "That was a trifle abrupt, wasn't it?"
I tried not to show how rattled I was, but I was aware that Gina was looking at me, puzzled, and as I moved away from the desk, Maxwell was also staring at me.
"I just dropped in to see if there were any personal letters for me," I said to him, lighting a cigarette in the effort to hide my confusion. "I guess I'll get off now."
"You want to learn to relax," Maxwell said. "If you weren't such a stolid, well-behaved newspaper man, I'd say from your furtive expression that you were up to some form of mischief. Are you?"
"Oh, don't talk crap!" I said, not being able to restrain the snap in my voice.
"Hey! You're a bit sour this morning, aren't you? I was only kidding." As I said nothing, he went on, "Are you taking your car?"
"No. I'm travelling by train."
"You're not travelling alone?" he asked, looking slyly at me. "I hope you've got some nice blonde laid on to console you if it rains."
"I'm travelling alone," I said, trying not to look as hot as I felt.
"I bet! I know what I'd do if I were going on a month's vacation."
"Maybe we don't happen to think alike," I said, going over to Gina. "Look after this guy," I said to her. "Don't let him make too many mistakes, and don't work too hard yourself. Be seeing you on the 29th."
"Have a good time, Ed," she said quietly. She didn't smile. This worried me. Something had upset her. "Don't worry about us. We'll be all right."
"I'm sure you will." I turned to Maxwell. "So long and good hunting."
"Better hunting to you, brother," he said, shaking hands.
I left them and, going down in the elevator to the street level, I called a taxi and told the driver to take me to the Barberini. There I bought the photographic filter Helen had asked me for, then I took another taxi back to my apartment. I completed packing, made sure everything was locked up, and took a taxi to the station.
I regretted not having my car, but Helen was taking hers and there was no point in having two cars in Sorrento. I wasn't looking forward to the train journey from Rome to Naples. After I had paid off my taxi, I waved a porter aside who wanted to grab my suitcase, and hurried into the vast station.
I bought a ticket for Naples, checked that the train wasn't in yet, and went over to the newspaper kiosk where I bought a bunch of newspapers and magazines. All the time I was keeping my eyes open for any familiar face.
I was acutely aware that I had too many friends in Rome for my peace of mind. At any moment someone I knew might appear. I didn't want tales to get back to Maxwell that instead of catching the eleven o'clock train to Venice, I had been seen boarding the noon train to Naples.
As I had ten minutes to wait, I went over to one of the benches, away in a corner and sat down. I read a newspaper, sheltering behind its open pages. Those ten minutes were fidgety ones. When I finally made .my way to the platform, I hadn't as yet run into anyone I knew. I got a seat on the train with some difficulty, and settled down again behind my newspaper.
It was only when the train moved out of the station that I began to relax.
So far all was going well, I told myself. From now on I could consider myself safely launched on my vacation.
I still felt uneasy. I wished Helen hadn't called up. I wished Gina hadn't heard the name of Mrs. Douglas Sherrard. I wished I was strong-minded enough not to be so infatuated with this blonde, exciting girl. Now I knew a little about her past history, I realized she couldn't be my type. A girl who fooled around with a man like Menotti just couldn't be my type. I told myself this was just a physical thing. I was being a sensual, dumb fool to be infatuated with her.
All this reasoning didn't get me anywhere. I knew if there was one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world, it was to spend a month in her company.
This was just another way of saying as far as Helen was concerned, I was a dead duck.
III
The local train arrived at Sorrento station twenty minutes late. The train was pretty crowded, and it was some minutes before I could work my way past the barrier and out into the station approach where a line of taxis and horse-drawn cabs waited to be hired.
I stood in the hot sunshine, looking around for Helen, but there was no sign of her. I put down my bag, waved away an eager beggar who wanted to conduct me to a taxi, and lit a cigarette.
I was surprised Helen wasn't there to meet me, but, bearing in mind that the train was late, I thought she might have gone to look at the shops to pass the time. So I leaned against the
station wall and waited.
The crowd pouring out of the station slowly disappeared. Some were met by friends, some walked away, some hired taxis and carriages until I was the only one left. After perhaps fifteen minutes, and with still no sign of Helen, I began to get impatient.
Maybe she was sitting at some cafe in the piazza, I thought. I picked up my suitcase and carried it to the left luggage office, where I dumped h. Then, relieved of its weight, I wandered down the street to the centre of the town.
I walked around looking for Helen, but I couldn't see her. I visited the car park, but I couldn't see any car that could be Helen's. I went over to one of the cafes, sat down at a table and ordered a cafe espresso.
From there I could watch the approach to the station and also see any car that arrived in the piazza.
The time was getting on for four-thirty. I drank the espresso, smoked three cigarettes, then, bored with waiting, I asked the waiter if I could use the telephone. I had a little trouble in getting the number of the villa, but after some delay the operator found the number and, after more delay, told me that no one was answering.
This was a let-down.
It was possible that Helen had forgotten the time the train arrived and had only just left the villa and was on her way down to the station. Containing my impatience, I ordered another espresso and sat down to wait, but by ten minutes after five, I was not only irritated, I was uneasy.
What had happened to her? I knew she had moved into the villa. Then why hadn't she come down to meet me as we had arranged?
From the map she had shown me, I knew more or less where the villa was. At a rough guess it was five miles up-hill from Sorrento. I told myself I would be easier in mind doing something, rather than sitting at the cafe, so I decided to walk towards the villa in the hope that I would meet her as she drove down.
There was only one road to the villa so there was no chance of missing her. All I had to do was to follow the road, and sooner or later we must meet.
Without hurrying, I set off on the long walk towards the villa.
For the first mile I had to make my way through crowds of tourists who were shop-window gazing, waiting for buses and generally cluttering up the landscape, but once free of the town, and on the snake-back road that led eventually to Amalfi, I had only the fast traffic to contend with.