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Authors: Isobel Chace
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to my face.
Cuthbert flicked his fingers in front of my eyes. “Hey, come back here!” he commanded, affronted by my dreamy expression. “I’ll race you home for our swimming things. Okay?”
“ Okay, ” I agreed lazily, but he won hands down because I could scarcely stir myself into a run, I was so hot and sticky. It didn’t take me long however to get into my swimsuit, to find a towel, and to pull my dress on again so that I would look more respectable for the bus journey down to the beach.
Cuthbert was waiting for me in the hall. He was smaller than his brother and fairer, but otherwise they were very much alike, and very much like their father too. They all had the same eyes that crinkled easily into laughter, even when they were not really amused. He was smiling now as I walked down the stairs towards him. “That didn’t take you long!” he said easily.
“I can’t wait to get into the water!” I explained.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ll take you on a real treat if you like,” he said offhandedly. “I’ll take you out to the Blue Basin. It means a bit of a walk, do you mind that?”
“Of course not,” I said.
We went in the family banger, as Cuthbert referred to the ancient family car that must have been nearly as old as I was. The engine grumbled even in neutral and I was convinced that it would break down if we attempted the gentlest slope.
“What is this Blue Basin?” I asked at last, inwardly resigning myself to the probability of having to walk home. “How far away is it?”
Cuthbert grinned. “Nervous?” he asked. “ It’s only about twenty miles—the round trip, not just there! ”
So we wouldn’t have to walk further than ten miles, I thought, if he was right about the distance, which I doubted. I looked down at my plain, flat-heeled shoes and thought that there were some advantages in being tall, if only that it discouraged one from wearing very high heels, and walking any distance in high heels is no joke at all, let alone ten miles!
After a while I forgot my anxieties about the car and settled back to enjoy the scenery. The Blue Basin turned out to be at the head of the Diego Martin Valley and to get there we had to go through the River Estate which is maintained by the university for experi ments w ith cacao, so there was plenty to look at — notably the sixteen miles of hibiscus hedge that lined the road. There were coral trees too, sometimes called the immortelle trees, and with some reason for they have been known to flower even after having been cut down and sawn up for firewood! Frangipani, the orange trumpet vine, bougainvillea, plumbago and the crepe myrtle all vied with one another for the traveller’s attention.
Cuthbert was supremely unaware of their haunting fragrance and riotous beauty, but it took me the whole trip to the Blue Basin to assure myself that he really took them for granted. It seemed incredible to me who had never been in such lush surroundings before. Left to myself, I would have stopped, exclaimed over and admired a hundred different bushes, trees and shrubs, but Cuthbert drove stolidly past them all.
“ You just wait till we get there,” he said at intervals. “If I’d thought we might have taken the whole day and brought a picnic, but it doesn’t matter, everything looks swell in the evening light here.”
We came to a sudden stop and he parked the car with a flourish, patting the wheel much as if he had been congratulating an irritable horse for performing as well as could be expected. “Well, we made it!” he said brightly. “From here we walk.”
We were still in the cocoa plantations sheltered by the immortelle trees. The roads were flat and tunnelled their way through the well-ordered trees, allowing the cooler mountain breezes to waft back and forth. There was strong smell of earth and growing things that had been newly watered and the occasional flash of a bird that might have been a humming bird—a
Cuthbert flicked his fingers in front of my eyes. “Hey, come back here!” he commanded, affronted by my dreamy expression. “I’ll race you home for our swimming things. Okay?”
“ Okay, ” I agreed lazily, but he won hands down because I could scarcely stir myself into a run, I was so hot and sticky. It didn’t take me long however to get into my swimsuit, to find a towel, and to pull my dress on again so that I would look more respectable for the bus journey down to the beach.
Cuthbert was waiting for me in the hall. He was smaller than his brother and fairer, but otherwise they were very much alike, and very much like their father too. They all had the same eyes that crinkled easily into laughter, even when they were not really amused. He was smiling now as I walked down the stairs towards him. “That didn’t take you long!” he said easily.
“I can’t wait to get into the water!” I explained.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ll take you on a real treat if you like,” he said offhandedly. “I’ll take you out to the Blue Basin. It means a bit of a walk, do you mind that?”
“Of course not,” I said.
We went in the family banger, as Cuthbert referred to the ancient family car that must have been nearly as old as I was. The engine grumbled even in neutral and I was convinced that it would break down if we attempted the gentlest slope.
“What is this Blue Basin?” I asked at last, inwardly resigning myself to the probability of having to walk home. “How far away is it?”
Cuthbert grinned. “Nervous?” he asked. “ It’s only about twenty miles—the round trip, not just there! ”
So we wouldn’t have to walk further than ten miles, I thought, if he was right about the distance, which I doubted. I looked down at my plain, flat-heeled shoes and thought that there were some advantages in being tall, if only that it discouraged one from wearing very high heels, and walking any distance in high heels is no joke at all, let alone ten miles!
After a while I forgot my anxieties about the car and settled back to enjoy the scenery. The Blue Basin turned out to be at the head of the Diego Martin Valley and to get there we had to go through the River Estate which is maintained by the university for experi ments w ith cacao, so there was plenty to look at — notably the sixteen miles of hibiscus hedge that lined the road. There were coral trees too, sometimes called the immortelle trees, and with some reason for they have been known to flower even after having been cut down and sawn up for firewood! Frangipani, the orange trumpet vine, bougainvillea, plumbago and the crepe myrtle all vied with one another for the traveller’s attention.
Cuthbert was supremely unaware of their haunting fragrance and riotous beauty, but it took me the whole trip to the Blue Basin to assure myself that he really took them for granted. It seemed incredible to me who had never been in such lush surroundings before. Left to myself, I would have stopped, exclaimed over and admired a hundred different bushes, trees and shrubs, but Cuthbert drove stolidly past them all.
“ You just wait till we get there,” he said at intervals. “If I’d thought we might have taken the whole day and brought a picnic, but it doesn’t matter, everything looks swell in the evening light here.”
We came to a sudden stop and he parked the car with a flourish, patting the wheel much as if he had been congratulating an irritable horse for performing as well as could be expected. “Well, we made it!” he said brightly. “From here we walk.”
We were still in the cocoa plantations sheltered by the immortelle trees. The roads were flat and tunnelled their way through the well-ordered trees, allowing the cooler mountain breezes to waft back and forth. There was strong smell of earth and growing things that had been newly watered and the occasional flash of a bird that might have been a humming bird—a
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