Island of Dolphins Read online

  Island of Dolphins

  By

  Lillian Cheatham

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  ISLAND OF DOLPHINS

  Juliet arrived in the Caribbean expecting to help Mark Bannerman work on his book about dolphins, but instead found his brother James there… which began a whole set of problems for her.

  Another book you will enjoy by LILLIAN CHEATHAM

  SHADOWED REUNION

  When her marriage to Sacha Kimberly broke up, Katie had thought Hawaii was far enough away for her to run from him—and to conceal the fact that she had had his child. Now, after five years, Sacha had caught up with her. And if she didn’t agree to his suggestion he was going to take the child away from her…

  First published 1984

  This edition 1984

  © Lillian Cheatham 1984

  ISBN 0 263 74834 0

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘There may be a little difficulty in placing you,’ Miss Posenby said slowly, frowning down at the papers on her desk. ‘Having worked for no one but your stepfather makes it a little awkward in the realm of experience, but there’s no question about your efficiency. You scored perfect in your shorthand and typing tests.’

  Juliet smiled ruefully. ‘I had to be quick,’ she explained. ‘When Dad dictated, he didn’t like to be stopped or interrupted or he would lose his train of thought. Sometimes he would start working at midnight and he thought nothing of continuing until dawn.’

  ‘Indeed?’ Miss Posenby’s dry voice gave no hint of her immediate conclusion that Juliet’s stepfather sounded like a tyrant. It was obvious that the girl had been devoted to him and was devastated by his death. Her wan, drawn look attested to that. As head of her own employment agency, Miss Posenby had had years of experience in sizing up people at a glance, and her analysis of Juliet had been shrewdly accurate. The girl was a beauty, of course, that much anyone could tell. She had a slender yet curvaceous body, shoulder-length black hair, dark-fringed violet eyes, and her luminous skin was reminiscent of a magnolia. Her face was a perfect oval, with the high cheekbones and clean lines of a model. Also, she had an instinct for clothes—she wore that crisp oatmeal linen with a natural flair, but Miss Posenby recognised that the linen had been a sale item last week—without the scarf and belt that gave it its present chic. Age? Well, that was more difficult. On the basis of her record, she had finished college and worked several years for her stepfather, but there was a curiously unawakened look about her that gave her an innocence that was decidedly out of step with today’s jaded world.

  Miss Posenby was no one’s fool. A well preserved sixty, with hair that looked like cotton candy and had been tinted blue to match her eyes, she looked like somebody’s fairy godmother until one noticed that those eyes were too down-to-earth to ever dwell in fairyland. They were observing Juliet curiously now, as though she had just heard something that caught her attention.

  ‘Your stepfather was a writer, then?’

  ‘Not really,’ Juliet admitted. ‘His books were all scientific ones. He was a scientist first of all.’

  ‘A scientist?’

  ‘Yes. His field was dolphins.’

  ‘Dolphins? You mean—fish?’

  ‘Dolphins aren’t fish,’ Juliet corrected her smilingly. ‘A lot of people think they are because they live in the sea, but actually, they’re mammals. They must breathe air to live and they suckle their young just as humans do.’

  ‘Indeed?’ murmured Miss Posenby. ‘It sounds as though you know a lot about them?’

  Juliet’s eyes danced. ‘I do. I grew up with them.’

  Miss Posenby’s eyes lingered on that smile and then grew thoughtful. ‘Hmm. Just a minute, I’ve thought of something that might do for you.’

  She rose and went into the adjoining office and from the murmur of voices, Juliet knew she was consulting her assistant. Juliet relaxed with a sigh and thought about dolphins—and her stepfather, David Graham. In spite of the impression received by Miss Posenby, David Graham had been a fond, even doting father to Juliet. He had never officially adopted her after he married her mother, but that had been a decision made by Mary Graham, who had felt it would be a sort of denial of Juliet’s real father.

  It had been their recent death that had left Juliet without a home and needing a job. There had never been much money in spite of David Graham’s position as one of the world’s foremost scientists in the field of cetaceans—or, to the layman, porpoises, dolphins and whales. He preferred research to teaching and every cent he made, including the royalties from his books, had gone into financing that research. Nothing had been left over for a home or its trappings.

  It had been his last book, Dolphin People, finished shortly before his death, that had made David Graham a nationally recognised authority in his field. Filled with marvellous photographs, it had been a warm, even loving account of the dolphin, presenting him as a happy friend and companion to man. It had been chosen as an alternative book of the month club selection and consequently, had been read by many people who knew nothing about the endangered species. David Graham had been credited with doing more to save the dolphin with that one book than all his scholarly articles and books had accomplished in the past.

  Few people had any idea of the part that Juliet played in writing the book, but it had been she who had transferred his enthusiastic, but inarticulate, prose into the readable account it was. He had been honestly surprised by the book’s popularity, by the royalties it had brought in. A scientist who was blindly devoted to his life’s work, he was all too apt to take his wife and daughter for granted. When his will was read after his death, it was learned that he had left everything to the research station, which was really owned by the corporation that backed his experiments.

  Mary, his wife, would not have wanted it any other way. She had been David’s lab assistant, a young widow with a child, when she married him. Their common interest in their, work had left little Juliet out. Growing up, she had listened wistfully, and hoped that some day she could do something to be part of their lives. An indifferent science student at the university, it wasn’t until she hit upon taking a typing course after graduation that she found a way to assist her father.

  Her parents’ death had been sudden and unexpected. David had been diving from a ship anchored a few miles off the coast of San Salvador when he had got into difficulties and Mary had leaped overboard to try to save him. Both had drowned. The only thing that kept Juliet going in the days that followed was the certainty that they would have wanted to die together.

  Miss Posenby came back into the room, looking at the file she held. ‘I may have something,’ she said briskly. ‘Miss Short and I think this job will do nicely for you. We agree that your lack of business experience will not matter, although I—er—shall not mention that you were employed by your stepfather. I’ve been trying to get in touch with our client by phone, but it’s rather difficult. There’s no direct line, you see…’ She looked doubtfully at Juliet. ‘You’d have to live on an island, Miss Welborn.’

  ‘An island!’

  ‘Yes. And I must warn you, there’s no access to the mainland except by boat or helicopter. Tamassee is not part of the West Indies, although it’s in the path of the shipping lanes to the Bahamas. It’s an island owned by an American citizen. Do you think you would be interested?’

  ‘I might.’ Juliet was intrigued in spite of herself. ‘What’s the job like?’

  Miss Posen
by consulted her notes. ‘Apparently it’s the same sort of thing you’ve been doing for your stepfather, helping in the collation and typing of a book of scientific research. The research is on underwater sea life, which is why I thought of you.’ She read from her notes. ‘No shorthand required but typing skill a must— and a love of the sea, plus an ability to use underwater breathing apparatus.’ She looked up. ‘I assume you qualify?’

  ‘Yes,’ Juliet said hesitantly. ‘Can you tell me more about the island?’

  ‘It is, as I said, owned by one person—Mark Bannerman. He will be your employer.’ She watched Juliet closely. ‘When Mr Bannerman is in residence, there’s a daily mail drop by helicopter and a supply boat stops every week, so you wouldn’t be altogether isolated. It’s also a stopover for yachts cruising in those waters. There’s even a small port town. But,’ she warned, ‘there’s no social life and you may not find the townspeople congenial. There’s no doctor, although there is a nurse and a first aid station, but your only contact with the outside world would be through the radio-phone.’

  A fleeting smile touched Juliet’s lips. ‘You sound as though you’re trying to warn me off!’

  ‘I don’t want you to expect too much,’ replied Miss Posenby. ‘I’ve supplied Mr Bannerman with temporary help before, and invariably they’re disappointed after they’ve stayed on the island for a while. I thought about this job when you mentioned the dolphins, because it sound like what you’ve been used to. But we’ve had a hard time trying to fill the position. For one thing, most girls shy off when I mention the isolation without knowing another thing about it. And then the job is temporary, Miss Welborn,’ she added warningly. ‘Six months at most, until Mr Bannerman finishes his book. To compensate, the salary would be good,’ and she named a figure that made Juliet catch her breath. ‘I’m sure, too, that the working conditions in the Bannerman household would be satisfactory.’

  ‘If they’re not, I can always leave,’ Juliet said gravely, but her eyes were sparkling. ‘You’re right, Miss Posenby, it does sound like what I want. I’ll take the job.’

  Miss Posenby wondered fleetingly if Mark Bannerman’s name had tipped the scales, then she acquitted this girl of having an ulterior motive. No, there had been no reaction to his name. Instead, the reaction had been to the salary figure, Miss Posenby thought dryly. It was a good one for an inexperienced typist—but then Mark Bannerman paid well. Most girls, of course, would have jumped at the opportunity to have a millionaire bachelor as a boss, which had been the reason Miss Posenby had kept his name out of previous interviews. Until now. It had made the vacancy a hard one to fill, but Mr Bannerman was too important a man for her to endanger her own position by sending him a money-hungry little ‘groupie’ who was dazzled by the publicity about him.

  Miss Posenby then proceeded to explain about the helicopter. ‘I’ll get in touch with the airfield and make arrangements for the pilot to expect you tomorrow morning,’ she volunteered. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll continue to try to reach the island through the radio-phone. If I don’t get through before you arrive, you merely have to mention that I’ve sent you.’

  After leaving the agency office, Juliet wandered along the sidewalk until the blinding glare made her dig her sunglasses out of her handbag and put them on. She was filled with an unaccustomed sense of accomplishment. Her first job! And the relief was so great that she felt giddy. True, it was only temporary, but if she made good at this, who knew where it might lead? Miss Posenby had hinted that there might be a place for her in the Bannerman Corporation when the book was finished, and Juliet, to whom the awesome name ‘Bannerman’s’ meant nothing, could see that Miss Posenby thought this was an opportunity not to be missed.

  Juliet was at the airfield early the next morning. Everything she owned, every memento of her parents and her childhood, was packed in her two battered suitcases plastered with the labels of a dozen world ports. Her parents had dived off the coasts of Australia and both Americas, and Juliet was conditioned to travelling light and never hanging on to possessions.

  She had debated what to wear today, wondering if slacks might not be indicated for a helicopter ride. On the other hand, she would be meeting her boss for the first time, so she had compromised on a dress of coral polyester, cool and sleeveless. With it, she had carried a big straw hat that she had trimmed with a scarf of the same colour. The result was that she looked both elegant and expensive as she entered the dusty little waiting room and stopped at the main desk.

  From there, she was directed to a little coffee shop at the rear of the building. From its windows, one looked out upon the landing field of the small private airfield. There was only one customer, leaning against the counter drinking a cup of coffee and flirting with a giggling waitress. He was dressed in a jumpsuit and had a pair of goggles dangling from a loop at his waist. He wore a cap pushed cockily to the back of his head. His face was good-humoured rather than good-looking, but there was something in the cynical eyes that watched her approach that gave her a prickle of warning. She came to a halt before him. ‘Mr Tanner?’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Jack Tanner, sweetie, at your service. And I presume you’re my passenger? Miss—Welborn, wasn’t it? Mark’s taste is improving all the time! Okay, honey,’ he lifted his cup in a sort of toast, ‘I congratulate you on beating the odds. You’ve managed to bum a ride to Tamassee.’

  Juliet’s brows knitted in a frown. This man talked a foreign language, so far as she was concerned. She was just about to tell him so when he added, ‘I see you’ve brought a lot of luggage?’ He nodded towards the two suitcases that had been placed beside the door.

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ she apologised aloofly. ‘Will it be too much? I’ll be there for quite a while, after all, and I can’t afford to store my things.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Sweetie, anything you say goes, but I’ve taken Mark’s popsies over and brought ‘em back, and this is the first time I’ve met one with your confidence. Usually, they aren’t quite sure of their welcome, but it’s no act with you, is it? It simply hasn’t occurred to you that he may throw you out. How well do you know him? He’s known to be a moody guy, particularly when it comes to women.’

  She stared at him blankly. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Now, Miss Welborn—please, ma’am, don’t try to pull an act on me. This is old Jack, remember? I’ve seen ‘em come and I’ve seen ‘em go, but if you try to tell me Mark invited you, I’ll be tempted to call you a liar. Mark doesn’t invite his women to Tamassee; they just come. It’s his retreat and he likes to get away when he goes there.’

  ‘I think you must be insane,’ Juliet said icily. ‘I’m going there to work, not to audition as one of Mr Bannerman’s girl-friends! I’m being sent by the Posenby Employment Agency. I thought you knew all that!’ she added irritably, ‘but if you don’t believe me, or object to taking me to Tamassee for some reason, I suggest that you go to that phone and talk to Miss Posenby herself. She’ll tell you whatever you want to know, I’m sure.’

  He looked startled. ‘You mean it’s on the level? They did say at the desk that Posenby’s was sending someone—a typist, I think—but you don’t look like a typist. I thought, when I saw you, that it was just a new angle you’d figured for getting to the island. Women are doing it all the time to poor old Marks—’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ she said frostily. ‘Mr Bannerman has my sympathy. You’ve made it clear that he’s been harassed by women, and frankly, I find it pathetic. He must be a very stupid man if he can’t cope with his private life any more efficiently than that.’

  Jack Tanner looked rather shocked at that, but he hurriedly paid for his coffee and joined her at the door.

  During the ride, he did everything he could to regain his lost status with his beautiful passenger.

  He talked about the island they were approaching. Tamassee was about twenty miles long and perhaps ten miles wide at its widest part. It had fresh water and a rich, loamy soil. The islan
d had been unoccupied when an early Bannerman ancestor had grabbed it, built an ante-bellum mansion with the help of slaves, and started growing sugar cane, also with the help of slaves. Now, sugar cane was no longer as profitable and Mark Bannerman, the head of the Bannerman Corporation, lived in the States. However, he continued to return to Tamassee and Bella Vista, the home of his ancestors, and he had done much to help the people of the islands. Mostly, it was a matter of finding ways to create jobs for the population. But it was difficult. The young men usually left home as soon as they could for the larger islands where work was more plentiful. The ones who stayed either worked for the Bannerman Corporation or were the older people and the children.

  Juliet’ listened, fascinated, and when finally, Jack pointed out the island of Tamassee below them, she gazed at it eagerly. It had had a romantic history and from the air, it was beautiful. Lushly green, with a white road that ran its length and from above, looked like a ribbon, it glittered like a jewel in a field of startling blue. At one end of the ribbon she saw the rooftop of a large house with several outbuildings— Bella Vista. At the other, was a cluster of rooftops of varying sizes and shapes. This must be the town, or village, that Jack had mentioned. She noted that it was located near a lagoon that curved gracefully inland, forming a perfect bay.

  The helicopter hovered over a landing pad near the lagoon, then lowered itself like an awkward bird. The blades rotated slowly to a stop, and Juliet climbed out stiffly. The first thing that struck her was the smothering intensity of the heat. The sun, reflecting off the coarse white sand at her feet, was so blinding that the glare made her eyes hurt, even behind the dark glasses she wore. A dew of perspiration popped out on her upper lip and forehead and she fumbled in her purse for a handkerchief.

  As she hesitated, gasping for breath, she gained a variety of quick impressions. The first was of the sweep of clean white sand, backed by a line of palm trees and creeping, jungle-like vegetation. A place had been cleared for a low block building with a tin roof that looked like some kind of warehouse. A long jetty ran out into the ocean and at the end of it, a cabin cruiser, sleek and well tended, rode the waves lightly at the end of its mooring lines. Behind the warehouse, a jeep was parked on the road. It was the only car in sight, but there were a number of bicycles also parked.