The beauty of it all caught at Joanna's throat as, clad in blue
denim shorts and a sleeveless top, she walked on to the terrace
on long golden legs to shake back a silky curtain of brown hair and lift her face to the sun. The casual, graceful gesture gave the falling line of her profle a swift, vivid loveliness. IT was one of those mornings when one felt that life could not be sweeter. The terrace, smothered in scarlet oleander and plumbago, drowsed dreamily in the warm golden sun above green lawns shaded by heavy branches of deep pink and cream bougainvillaea. In the Indian laurel,, the birds were bursting forth in vociferous chirping and everywhere was the quietness of sweet sounds. The house, set on a hill, commanded panoramic views over banana groves meandering out to the blue sea beyond. This morning, the white-capped peaks of Tenerife were clearly visible across the miles of sparkling water.