She dressed clumsily and lay on the bed with the shutters closed, the room in comforting shadow. Her head throbbed with frustration and misery. How was she going to face him tomorrow? How could she talk to him, look at him, now that she knew how she really felt?
Penny came back an hour later and tapped on her door. Quincy forced a smile somehow and agreed to go down to the beach again—anything was better than lying alone in her room with nothing but her own gloomy thoughts for company, and there was no reason why she should let her sudden depression ruin Penny's holiday. Pretending to be cheerful might actually make her feel as if she was—it seemed to fool Penny, why
shouldn't it fool Joe?
She slept badly that night and in the morning could scarcely force down her breakfast. 'Aren't you hungry?' Penny asked in surprise, taking another roll and pouring herself some more coffee. 'I'm starving—it must be the sea air.'
'I've got a headache,' said Quincy.
'The sun,' Penny stated. 'I told you it was dangerous.'
'So you did,' Quincy agreed. Why hadn't someone told her Joe was dangerous in time to save her from the way she felt now? But if they had, what difference would it have made? She had known, she hadn't needed to be told, her own common sense had kept on warning her and she had still gone right ahead and fallen helplessly, stupidly in love with him. Perhaps there is a time and a place when one falls in love, however foolish? Perhaps she had been ripe for love, waiting blindly for it, ready to go crazy over the first attractive man she saw? How else did she explain the instant insanity of falling for a man like Joe Aldonez?
She wondered how to break it to Penny, or whether to trust to luck that Penny didn't actually see him when he came.
'I've got a date this afternoon,' she said casually, avoiding Penny's eye. 'For lunch, actually.'
'Oh, have you, actually?' said Penny, grinning. 'I wondered when it would come out.'
'What?' asked Quincy, confused.
'I guessed you'd be doing another vanishing act some time or other,' Penny explained. 'I suppose you and he planned it? I think you might have told me you'd arranged to meet him here.'
'I hadn't,' Quincy said indignantly. 'It was sheer accident.'
'Pull the other one,' Penny told her cheerfully. 'I wasn't born yesterday. I'm not a great believer in coincidences.' She regarded Quincy thoughtfully. 'He isn't married, is he?'
Startled, Quincy said: 'Not as far as I know,' then thought, and said firmly: 'No, I'm sure he isn't.'
'Why all the secrecy, then?'
Quincy hesitated: 'I just don't want to talk about it yet, there's nothing to talk about at the moment, maybe there never will be.'
'Oh,' said Penny, much enlightened. 'Like that, is it? I get you, you don't know where you stand yet?'
'No!' Quincy said. 'I don't know where I stand at all.' And that was the understatement of the year, if only Penny knew. It seemed to satisfy her, though, she asked no more questions, and Quincy left her basking peacefully on the beach when she left to make her way back to the hotel in time to change before meeting Joe.
She blowdried her damp hair while she scrutinised the limited contents of her holiday wardrobe—what should she wear? What would be suitable for a meeting with his parents? There wasn't really much choice, she had not come provided with much beyond beach wear and a few summer frocks. In the end, she put on a silky white dress printed with the occasional trail of green ivy—it looked fresh and springlike, even if it was hardly haute couture. Someone like Carmen Lister might be able to look at it and see at once that it was bought from a chain store, but what did that matter? She slid her feet into high-heeled white sandals, clipped a string of pretty local green beads around her neck and checked her reflection without satisfaction. She was never going to set the world on fire, whatever she wore, but at least she looked cool and assured, on the surface, and Joe would not be able to see beneath that.
He arrived punctually at twelve and rang her room from the desk downstairs. Quincy was pleased with her own calm voice as she spoke to him. 'Hallo, yes, I'll be down right away,' she said, and put down the phone, lifting her chin in defiance at herself in the mirror. Surely she could put on an act for a few hours?
Joe was waiting in the reception lobby, she saw him before he saw her, his arrogant profile masked by those sunglasses, his tall, lithe body lounging casually as he studied a poster on the wall near the desk. Quincy's heart traitorously turned over at that first glimpse of him. You fool, she told herself in disgust, pull yourself together, then he turned and saw her and she saw his mouth curve into an involuntary smile and smiled back, her heart lightening and her nervous tension dropping away.
'You look lovely,' he said, taking the space between them in three strides. 'White suits you, that's a very pretty dress.'
'Thank you,' she said, hoping she did not sound as breathless as she felt. Behind those glasses she couldn't see his eyes, and that was just as well—she knew how deadly a smile from them could be, she hoped he would keep his sunglasses on all day.
'My car's parked outside,' he said as they left the hotel. As they drove away Quincy caught sight of Penny wandering along with her crammed beach bag over her arm, her face pink from the sun and her bare legs sandy. Penny briefly saw her, and turned her head to stare. Quincy hoped she would see nothing of Joe but black hair blowing in the wind and a pair of sunglasses.
'Did you find your friend?' Joe asked, turning to look at Quincy.
She nodded. 'I hope your parents don't mind having a stranger dumped on them for lunch.'
'You won't be a stranger,' Joe said enigmatically, and before she could ask him what that was supposed to mean he asked: 'How long are you here? When do you go home?'
'We only got here two days ago,' Quincy told him. 'But we're just having a week's holiday, we go home in four days' time.'
'Only a week?' Joe said, his tone flat.