Free One Hot Summer by Norrey Ford

emerald sea, bubbles of air enveloped his body, so she could see him, a silver man, swimming below her over the silver sand.
    They swam, or floated lazily, until Marco called to her that he was going out. She followed him up the beach and flopped down beside him on the spread towels.
    ‘ That was absolutely wonderful! Oh, Marco, bless you—a cigarette.’ She leaned over to take a light from his cupped hands. ‘Just perfect! Have we time to sunbathe?’
    ‘ Until we run out of sun. We shall lose it round the headland soon.’ He lay on his back, fingers linked behind his head. ‘ Tell me about yourself. Are you going to accept my offer of a job here with us?’
    She shook her head. ‘ Uh-huh ! ’
    ‘ Uh-huh yes, or uh-huh no?’
    ‘ No. I’d like to. I want to—at this moment. But I’ve worked three hard years for my finals and I intend to sit them. Then I’ll be qualified, and be something. A properly qualified nurse, with experience, can work almost anywhere she pleases, do you know that? Australian outback, Canada, the Arctic—you name it, people get sick and want nursing. Besides— ’ She hesitated, drawing a line in the sand with her finger.
    ‘ Besides—?’ he queried, craning up to look at her.
    ‘I am a valuable person, as a nurse. I can nurse G enuinely sick people, people who need me. Your mother doesn’t need a nurse. She needs something to do. Someone to talk to. It may be her choice or yours that she lives like an elegant cabbage, but you shouldn’t allow her to fold her hands and opt out of life just because your father died.’
    ‘ They did everything together—everything.’
    ‘ So you should be encouraging her to continue with what they started. One must have some purpose in life, and—well, it seems to me that if one is taken and the other left, there’s a purpose behind it. There’s something left to be done. Marco, your mother could die of sheer boredom perched up on the top of your island. But she is not ill, and she doesn’t need a nurse.’
    ‘ I have a good apartment in Rome, but she hates the city. Any suggestions, while you’re busy reorganising my life for me?’
    ‘ I have. But you’d be angry with me. You are not a patient man, Marco Cellini.’
    ‘ Pretend I am.’
    She gave him a long, steady look. ‘ You asked for it, Marco. All right. When Dino took me all around the island pretending he didn’t know I wanted the harbour, I saw a lot of poverty. Too much. Some appalling housing, only habitable because of your wonderful climate. Some crippled children. Some beggars. Beggars, Marco! To me, that is unthinkable. Little kids, begging in the road! You say you own a good deal of Barini—you and your father before you. Don’t you feel any sort of responsibility for the people, for the way they live?’
    ‘ We’ve done a good deal, in our time. You’re not suggesting my mother took some responsibility for houses and layabouts who won’t work to keep their children?’
    ‘ I wouldn’t dare suggest anything to Barini’s lord and master. All I’m saying is that there is much to be done, or left undone, by someone.’
    ‘ I see.’ The coldness edged into his voice again. ‘Well, now you’ve demonstrated that I’m an incompetent landlord, a wicked son, is there anything else you’d like to sharpen your stiletto on while you’re making it so obvious you hate the sight of me?’
    ‘ I’m not too sure of your performance as a brother, either. But I don’t hate the sight of you. You’re extremely decorative lying there on the sand, like one of your own gorgeous statues—alive, but with a stone heart perhaps. I wish I understood you, Marco. So far, you’ve shown yourself a lion, a tiger, a bear, a — ow !’
    He had swung over and grabbed her ankle in a steel grip.
    ‘ Don’t torment the wild animals, girl. Just—wait—till—I—get—a grip—’
    Aware that she had gone too far, and could hardly hope to escape Marco’s vengeance now, she lashed