Dolly And The Bird Of Paradise - Dorothy Dunnett - Johnson Johnson 01 - Plot & Excerpts
Waiting early that evening to be met at the airport, I couldn’t understand what anyone said, even when they were speaking English. I expected Mrs Sheridan’s car, but she had sent a hired driver who stood about, with a peaked cap and dark glasses and a big placard saying sra rita da godes. It was some time before we found one another, even after the Arrival Hall was quite empty. To get to Mrs Sheridan’s villa, I’d been told, you have to go from the airport through Funchal, the main town of Madeira. You begin by driving along the coast. It was warm. I expected that. The B.B.C. had filmed a programme about it, Volcanic Islands of the Atlantic, and a pal had taped it. Madeira the Floating Garden; the Island of Gentle Summers and Mild Winters, Before my dark glasses got too dark to bother looking through, I noticed a lot of blue water and red roofs and purple creeper, and a harbour with the sun about to fall into the water. Then the Mercedes turned uphill to cut out the town, and ran into a lot of rutted roads with no walls and steep paths going up to farm cabins, and finally into a side lane that seemed to lead nowhere.
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