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the same number of passengers seemed reasonable. Very reasonable, when
you recall that I operate three cruises per week, while you have the lion's
share of four!'
Her frown deepened, and suddenly everything took on a different
perspective. It had not been Josh who had gone over the top with his
attractions, she realised in dismay it was her. Pangs of remorse hit.
Bringing in the calypso group had been a knee-jerk reaction, Abby thought
uneasily. A wild hitting back. She had never stopped to consider the equality
of their trade, nor that Josh might merely have been attempting to draw
level. On starting up the cruises the question of fair play had worried her, but
latterly she had not given it a moment's thought.
A strand of hair was twisted unhappily around her finger. 'I seem to have--'
she started.
'Please let me finish,' he bit out. 'And reasonable when you also consider the
Hummingbird's passenger capacity is limited so that any growth in business
will automatically fall your way.'
Abby's heart sank. What he said was true and reasonable. It also made a
nonsense of the theory that his ambition was to wreck their trade and grab
the Calinargo at a knock-down price. Yes, Josh had been secretive, but so
had she. And he had not attempted to murder her with a chain- saw all he
had done was come back with some perfectly admissible competition. Her
mistrust ground to a shuddering halt. Suddenly, she felt deeply ashamed.
She had rushed into certain presumptions which had led her to decide that he
was an opportunist, though now she did not know why. Regrets flooded in.
Abby wished everything between them had not happened so quickly. She
wished she knew him better. She wished she had had the sense to ask him to
explain his business success.
'Josh--' she began afresh, but his anger now had a determined momentum.
'Although your dance band destroyed the balance again, there was a chance
I'd have accepted it,' he went on, 'but not now. Not since I heard about your
pirate tricks. You started all this,' he said, jabbing an accusing finger, 'but,
make no mistake, I shall finish it. Maybe Bob Sinclair did leave a rich
widow who's happy to finance these little games of yours, but--'
Abby stared. 'Who said my aunt was rich?' she demanded.
'You did. When I asked if she was short of money, you made it clear she had
plenty.'
Her toes curled into the sand. The haywire situation made it imperative that
Josh be told the truth, but it was Hilda's truth, and a rigorously protected
one, so before anything was said shouldn't she be consulted?
'Oh, oh, yes,' Abby mumbled.
'As I was saying,' Josh continued, 'maybe Mrs Sinclair is well off, but it's
time she considered where this is going to end.'
'What do you mean?' she enquired, alert to the granite edge of a threat in his
voice.
'Suppose the bumper boats are joined by jet skis and windsurfers and
parasailing? Is she prepared to lay out more and more cash to equip the
Calinargo with more and more attractions? Think about it,' he instructed.
Abby was thinking. Her head had never been so busy, and now it throbbed
with a new batch of complications. She put a worried hand to her brow. 'But
if you bring in jet skis and and everything, our trade will plummet and we
may never be able to sell the schooner,' she faltered.
Josh arched a brow. 'You still want to sell? You and your aunt aren't having
such a ball you've decided not to bother?'
Her toes curled deeper. 'Of course we're bothering.'
'Then let's hope the next owners are a lot less bloody-minded than you!' he
said savagely. 'I've heard about ambition, but it wasn't until recently I
realised Attila the Hun was alive and well and operating a schooner in
Grenada!' Josh pushed his hands into his pockets and regarded her in silence
for an appreciable length of time. 'And to think,' he said eventually, 'I once
thought you and I were--'
'We were what?' Abby asked, when he broke off.
'It doesn't matter.' Narrowing his eyes, he looked beyond her at the sea.
'She's a fine craft,' he muttered.
As she turned to follow his gaze, Abby saw that the Calinargo was sailing
past. Her sails plump with breeze and brightly coloured flags fluttering, the
schooner cut cleanly through the waves. With twin masts standing tall and
proud, she was an elegant reminder of bygone days.
'But the Hummingbird's looking pretty swanky, too,' she protested.
Icy blue eyes met hers. 'A swanky hamburger carton,' Josh said, and swung
into the Moke.
Abby took an urgent step forward. Her escalation of the Calinargo's
attractions would end, right now. She would not drive north. She would not
locate a plank and a rope. The pirate idea would be scrapped. It must be, if
she was to have any peace of mind, if she was ever to be able to live with
herself again. She would withdraw the calypso band, too.
'About the Calinargo--' she began.
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