Welcome to Paradise by Jill Tahourdin Page B

order to lay his hand on the edge of the lowered window beside Sandra.
    “Sandra, this is Alix,” he said.
    Sandra put out a slim brown hand.
    “Hallo, Alix,” she said. Her voice was clear and rather high. It was sweet, polite, but not truly cordial.
    Alix said warmly, as warmly as she could manage, “Hallo, Sandra. It’s very kind of you to have me to stay.”
    “We’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” Sandra said. When she smiled, she showed teeth as white and small and even as a starlet’s. She was utterly beautiful in the way Richard had described—flashing - eyed, dark. Her hair was almost black and fitted her small head as sleekly as a cap. Her eyes were brilliant and of a strange very light grey, almost silver, between black lashes extravagantly luxuriant.
    The eyes were studying Alix, whenever Alix was not looking her way, with a nervous intensity. A few minutes before, when she had seen Richard and discovered that he had travelled in the plane with Bernard’s fiancée , she had asked him with a casualness that didn’t deceive him, “What is she like, Richard?”
    He had answered, “You’ll see for yourself in a minute.”
    Well, she was seeing now. This rather small girl, with good skin and hair and eyes, and a pleasing figure, but not even really pretty, a serious rival? she was thinking. Oh no.
    Remembering her manners, she introduced Richard and Bernard. She said, “Richard and Alix are old friends. They met in Paradise, it seems, and flew up together today.”
    The two men shook hands. Bernard, Richard noted, was looking at him with more than ordinary interest. Taking my measure, Richard thought; just as I’m taking his.
    Richard saw nothing in Bernard to dislike; much to like on sight. His fa ce was frank and open, good-tem pered-looking; his manners were pleasant.
    But he was a trifle jittery, Richard sensed. Natural, perhaps, on such an occasion. Yet—was it? Was he under some sort of strain? Or was that just wishful thinkin g on his own part? Richard couldn’t be sure.
    They were chatting easily now, the four of them. Questions about the flight; about future plans.
    “What are you doing here, Richard?” Sandra wanted to know.
    “Business. Doing a recce preparatory to coming up later on my new job.”
    “You’re going to be here for good later? Oh, Richard, what fun. Look, how long have you this visit?”
    “It depends.”
    “Where are you staying?”
    “With my stand-in for the moment.”
    Sandra said eagerly, “Couldn’t you come to us for just a few days? Do, please, Richard. Daddy would love to see you again. It’s been ages. And we’d be a foursome for tennis and riding. You do play tennis and ride, I suppose, Alix?”
    Alix laughed.
    “Tennis, of course. But I’m afraid I never got much beyond the leading-rein stage on a horse.”
    Sandra looked incredulous.
    “Oh well, you can ride Trojan. He’s a staid old thing,” she said dismissingly. She turned again to Richard.
    “You will come?” Alix, waiting for him to reply, found that she was actually holding her breath. She saw him grin.
    “You bet I’ll come, thanks very much. Not right away, though. Duty first, if you’ll forgive me for being noble. But by Saturday I should be through. Will that suit you?”
    Sandra clapped her slim hands.
    “Oh, goody,” she cried. “Come on Saturday morning for a long week-end—or for as long as you like. That’ll be marvellous, won’t it, Bernard?”
    Bernard agreed that it would. He was busy stowing Alix’s cases, and then Alix, into the car. Richard said, Au revoir till Saturday, then.”
    As he looked at Alix—whom Bernard had placed in the rear seat, leaving the vacant place in front for himself, next to Sandra at the wheel—his left eyelid drooped gently in an unmistakable, reprehensible wink.
    She gave him her severe look; but laughter bubbled inside her—the laughter Richard could always evoke. She had been feeling terrible—now, suddenly, everything came