Forgotten Lover

‘It was awful!’ Velvet’s face was still bright red. ‘Jerard Daniels shouldn’t be allowed to sell these!’ She threw the bikini down in disgust.

Carly changed too. ‘The price he’s asking for them I doubt they would normally get wet.’

Velvet didn’t know how she was going to face Paul again, never having gone in for any of the semi-nude modelling that some of her friends had.

But she needn’t have worried. He had forgotten all about it by the time she and Carly returned to the beach, more concerned with the fact that he got sand in his camera.

‘I’ll have to clean this out,’ he muttered. ‘I’m sorry, Carly, but the Everglades are out for this afternoon. Why the hell Daniels insisted we come out here to take the photographs, instead of in a studio like we usually do with beachwear, I just don’t know. Florida is all wrong for this type of work. The light is all wrong, the wind is too strong, it’s too damned hot, and worst of all, it’s playing havoc with my camera equipment.’ He scowled heavily.

Velvet had a feeling she knew exactly why Jerard Daniels had wanted them to come out to Florida. He had wanted her here, and this had been his way of doing it.

‘Would you like to come with Greg and me this afternoon?’ she asked Carly.

‘No, I’ll stay and keep Paul company.’

‘Sure?’ She was now regretting her decision to accompany Greg, and having Carly with them would take away the impression of a twosome.

‘Sure,’ Carly nodded.

Greg proved to be an entertaining companion, standing patiently beside her as they watched the keepers getting into the pool to feed the sharks, saw the sea-lion show, and watched the dolphins perform their endearing tricks. Velvet loved the lazy dolphin most of all, because she appeared to do everything wrong but in reality performed some quite amazing antics.

As they came down the steps from the top of the dolphin pool the woman in front of Velvet suddenly seemed to falter, lose her step and fall down the last three stairs to the ground. She let out a cry as she landed awkwardly on her ankle, and the little girl at her side bent down anxiously.

‘It’s all right, Vicki,’ the woman instantly assured her, her pretty face creased up in pain. ‘I’m all right.’

Velvet and Greg reached the bottom of the stairs in seconds, going down on their haunches beside the woman, a small pretty brown-haired woman of perhaps thirty, her distressed brown eyes and white face evidence of the pain she was trying to hide from her little girl.

The little girl was perhaps six or seven years in age, dressed in denims and a tee-shirt that showed the thinness of her body, her dark hair long and straight, her eyes a deep, deep blue. She was a pretty child, and she looked more than a little upset by her mother’s accident.

‘Your ankle?’ Greg took charge with the minimum of fuss.

‘Yes,’ the woman groaned, obviously in agony.

‘I’ll get you to the hospital,’ Greg said grimly.

The little girl seemed to recoil, and moved back against the wall, her eyes wide with fear.

‘It’s all right, Vicki,’ the woman struggled to sit up, her voice distinctly English. ‘Vicki!’ She held out her hand to the little girl.

‘No,’ the girl shook her head, ‘I won’t go to hospital. I won’t!’

Velvet instantly went to her side. ‘It’s all right, darling. No one will hurt you at the hospital,’ she soothed.

The girl huddled into her side. ‘They kill people there,’ she shuddered.

Velvet was taken aback by this statement, and looked frowningly at the injured woman.

‘Could you possibly take Vicki back to the hotel?’ the woman requested.

‘Well, I——’

‘That’s a good idea, Velvet,’ Greg interrupted. ‘You take care of Vicki and I’ll get this lady to hospital.’

Velvet took one look at the frightened little girl and knew that it was the wisest course of action; Vicki was likely to become hysterical if subjected to a visit to the hospital she so dreaded.

‘How about an ice-cream before we go home, Vicki?’ she coaxed the little girl.

‘I—I’m not sure,’ she looked up warily, the lashes surrounding her deep blue eyes ridiculously long. ‘Faye?’ she looked at the woman for the answer.

‘Go with—Velvet?—Go with Velvet, Vicki. Mr Boyd will take me to get my ankle seen to.’

Velvet frowned. Did Greg actually know this couple? And it didn’t sound as if the woman and the little girl were mother and daughter after all, maybe they were sisters instead.

‘They’re staying at the hotel, Velvet,’ Greg explained, helping Faye to her feet. ‘Take Vicki back there and wait for us.’

‘No ice-cream?’ Vicki pouted.

‘Yes, you can have an ice-cream,’ Greg grinned at her, swinging Faye up into his arms. ‘But don’t be too long getting back to the hotel,’ he warned Velvet. ‘I doubt we’ll be late.’ He strode off.

‘But I——’ He’d gone! She looked down at Vicki, grinning to reassure her. ‘Banana split?’

She licked her lips in anticipation. ‘Lovely!’

The little girl’s fright seemed to be forgotten as she ploughed her way through the huge banana split Velvet ordered for her in the ice-cream parlour they found. Velvet settled for a chocolate milk shake, not the watery type you usually got served in England; the straw stood up in this one, which was so thick she could hardly suck it up the straw.

Vicki sat back once she had finished her ice-cream. ‘Could you tell me the time, please?’

Velvet had to stop herself smiling, the little girl’s manner was so grown-up. ‘It’s ten past five.’

‘Then we should be getting back.’ Vicki got down off her stool, looking up at Velvet expectantly. ‘My father will be back now. He’ll be getting worried about me.’

Velvet raised her eyebrows, taking Vicki’s hand as they went out to get in the taxi she had ordered. ‘You’re here with your father?’

‘Oh yes,’ Vicki nodded. ‘My mother d-died, and—and Faye takes care of me.’

‘I’m sorry, darling,’ Velvet squeezed the hand that had trustingly stayed in hers. ‘But Faye is nice, isn’t she?’

‘I don’t know. She hasn’t been my—my friend very long, just a few months, only since Mummy died really.’

The loss was obviously a recent one, and by Vicki’s age she would guess her mother couldn’t have been very old. It was also natural to assume that she had died in a hospital, hence the child’s aversion to them. It must have been very rough on a little girl of this age, old enough to understand what was happening, but not old enough to understand why.

‘Are you going to be my friend?’ Vicki asked her shyly.

‘Of course I am,’ Velvet smiled, as the two of them got out of the taxi as they reached the hotel. ‘I can always do with an extra friend, Vicki.’ She led the way into the hotel, already feeling a bond developing between them.

Vicki let out a squeal of delight, letting go of Velvet’s hand to run over to the man pacing up and down the reception area. ‘Daddy!’ she cried before launching herself into his arms.

Velvet swallowed hard, keeping to the background. The man now holding Vicki in his arms was none other than Jerard Daniels, which meant that Vicki must be the eight-year-old daughter he had spoken of.