Moth to the Flame(2)

good. Why, Jan might even ask you to stay on for a while.'

'She might,' Julie acceded rather wryly. She was mentally running

her wardrobe under review, wondering what it contained that would

not look out of place in a high Roman summer. It would probably

be very hot, she thought, so cottons would be preferable to                       
       
           



       

synthetic fibres. One long skirt as well, maybe, and a couple of tops

to wear with it in case Jan took her out on the town. In spite of her

misgivings, a sense of excitement was beginning to pervade her.

She'd only ever been abroad on school visits, and never .to Italy. It

would be a new experience for her-something to shake her out of

that rut she was imagining.

Her feeling of anticipation intensified as the term drew to its close.

Mrs Laurence had written to Jan as promised, explaining that Juliet

needed a holiday and giving details of the flight she would be

catching.

If Jan replied at the last moment cancelling the visit, it would be a

terrible anti-climax, Juliet thought as she packed her lightweight

case the evening before the flight. She had bought herself a few

new things-some cotton jeans among them, and a couple of pretty

shirts with long sleeves for sightseeing round Roman churches, as

well as a long dress she hadn't been able to resist, but she was not

taking many clothes. In spite of her mother's optimistic remarks

about the possibility of a longer visit, Juliet doubted whether she

would in fact remain in Rome for more than a week.

The very fact that Jan had not replied at all to her mother's letter

seemed vaguely ominous. Juliet found herself wishing that there had

been at least a perfunctory note acknowledging that she was

expected, even if not as welcome as the flowers that bloom in the

spring.

And certainly the continued silence had made her mother jumpier

than ever about the whole situation, so that she had found herself

promising devoutly to phone her the very evening of her arrival to

let her know what was happening.

She. had also received an alternative invitation to make up a party

with some of the other teachers at the school, cruising some of the

inland waterways on a barge, and in many ways this sounded far

more appealing than a trip to Rome in the height of summer to visit

a recalcitrant and' possibly resentful sister who was far more

capable of organising her life than Juliet herself would probably

ever be.

There was probably nothing more sinister behind her failure to write

home than mere thoughtlessness, Juliet thought wryly as she locked

her case, but there was no way she would ever convince her mother

of this.

Her misgivings returned with renewed force when there was no one

to meet her at the airport, or even a message giving her directions

how to reach Jan's apartment. She had the address, of course, and

she was perfectly capable of finding the bus into the city and then

picking up a taxi to take her to her final destination, but it wasn't the

same, and she could not help feeling just a little hurt during the

drive into the city.

In other circumstances she would have been on the edge of her seat,

taking in all the ancient splendours around her. As it was, she sat

hunched rather tensely in a corner of the taxi, her fingers curled

tightly round the strap of her handbag. It had occurred to her for the

first time that there could be a good and valid reason why Jan had

not responded to the news of her arrival. Perhaps she was away on

a prolonged trip, and had never received their mother's letter at all.

If that was the case, Juliet would really be in the soup. Both she and

Mrs Laurence had taken it for granted that she would be staying at

Jan's apartment and they had not included the price of a hotel, even

if she could find a vacancy at this time of year, in their costs for the

trip which had necessarily to be kept to a minimum. Juliet had not

permitted her mother to pay the whole bill as she had wanted,

although she had accepted a little financial help with the price of the

air-fare. If Jan was away, then all her careful budgeting would fall

in pieces.

'Ecco, signorina,' the taxi-driver announced over his shoulder,

breaking into her troubled reverie.

Juliet leaned forward, staring up with disbelieving eyes , at the tall

building outside which the taxi had stopped. It wasn't at all what

she had expected. In some of Jan's early letters, she had described

amusingly the small flat over a greengrocer's shop in a square which

she shared with another girl. When she had announced later that she

had moved, Juliet had assumed that it was to a similar apartment,

but it seemed that she could not have been more wrong.

Summoning what few Italian phrases she knew, she asked the

taxi-driver haltingly if he was sure there was not some mistake. She

did not understand all that he said in reply, but his air of grievance

was easily recognisable, and when she produced the scrap of paper

with Jan's address on it, he almost snatched it from her and stabbed

at it with a pudgy forefinger. It appeared that if there was some

mistake, it was not of his making. He had brought her to the address                       
       
           



       

she had requested. She paid him, adding what she hoped was a

reasonable tip to compensate his injured feelings, then walked up

the wide marble steps to the glass swing doors of the apartment

block.

The foyer was not over-large, but it was cool with air-conditioning,

and a mosaic-tiled floor. A swarthy man in a dark red uniform sat in

a glass-fronted cubicle to one side, and as Juliet with her suitcase

hesitated for a moment, looking round for the lift, .he waved a

peremptory hand at her, obviously indicating that she should wait

until he had finished putting through a call on the switchboard in

front of him.

When he was ready, he looked her over from head to foot. 'St,

signorina?' There was a faint insolence in his tone which Juliet

resented.

She said quietly. 'Scusi, signore, non parlo italiano.'

'I speak English good, signorina. What you want I do for you?'

She said rather uncertainly, 'I'm looking for my sister. This is the

address I was given, but I'm not sure ...'

'What name, this sister, and what apartment?'

Silently she handed him her scrap of paper. He studied it for a

moment and his brows cleared.

'Naturalmente, signorina. The signorina inglese on the fourth

floor. She did not speak to me that you were to arrive. I call her

now. You wait.'

As well as a switchboard, Juliet saw that he operated an intercom

system, and she guessed that this was for security purposes. Jan,

she thought, was fortunate to be able to afford an environment

where such procedures were standard.

'You go up now.' The commissionaire was gesturing vigorously at

her from the cubicle. 'You take the lift.'

The lift looked old-fashioned with its wrought iron gates, but its

workings were ultra-modern and they reached the floor indicated

with stomach-lurching speed. Juliet stepped out on to the tiled

passage and began to walk along it, the heels of her sandals clicking

rhythmically as she searched for the correct number on the door.

She found it at last at the end of the passage and guessed that Jan

must have one of the flats at the front of the building with the

balcony that she had noticed when she arrived. She pressed the

buzzer beside the door, noticing as she did so the small loudspeaker

just above it. It was no surprise therefore when the speaker gave a

crackle and Jan's familiar voice speaking with a hint of impatience

said, 'Who's there?'

'It's Juliet.' She felt faintly bewildered. The commissionaire had

presumably reported that she was on her way up. Who else could it

be, for heaven's sake?

'Oh, Julie!' Her sister's voice sounded almost relieved. There was a

rattle as a chain was unfastened inside and then the door swung

open. Jan stood in the doorway smiling at her. 'Darling, what a

lovely surprise!'

'Weren't you expecting me?' Juliet walked past her into the

apartment and put her case down.

Jan shrugged. 'Mim mentioned something in one of her letters, but

frankly I wondered if you'd go through with it. But it's marvellous to

see you now you are here. How long are you staying?'

'A week, if that's all right.' Juliet found her eyes straying round the

room in which they were standing. It was a large room, and built on

two levels. They were standing on the upper level, a kind of gallery

surmounted by a wrought iron balustrade which led presumably to

the bedroom as well. Two wide steps descended into the living

room, which judging by its size ran the whole length of the

apartment. At one side, wide glass doors led to the balcony. Thick

cream and gold carpet stretched from wall to wall, and Juliet

noticed a wide chesterfield sofa upholstered in warm golden brown

hide with two matching armchairs arranged with their backs to the

window, and facing a wall where an elegant fitment contained a

complicated-, looking hi-fi unit and a television set. At the other

end of the room, she saw a white baby grand piano surmounted by

an alabaster vase containing long-stemmed yellow roses.