Authors: Rosalind Brett
Annette stood up.
“
I
’
m being selfish: You
’
ve had quite a time and ought to be resting.
”
“
Do
you
rest in the afternoon?
”
“
Mostly. The atmosphere is heavy and wet, and there
’
s nothing else to do, anyway. Oh, by the way, how were the parents when you left?
”
“
Thriving. Have you heard from them lately?
”
“
There was a letter from Elizabeth a week ago. She thought you
’
d be arriving any day and sent you her own and Father
’
s love.
”
“
I must write to them.
”
“
I
’
ve been telling myself that, too, but can
’
t get down to it. Now that you
’
re here,
”
with a wide smile and a wink,
“
you can do it for me. You
’
re much more dutiful. Well
,
I
’
ll take to my cushions. You don
’
t have to stir again till after the servant has brought you some tea.
”
She stopped, gave Terry another hug and moved towards the door.
“
You hoped I
’
d change, but I haven
’
t. I do feel better now, though. You
’
re a darling.
”
She went out, and Terry at once turned back to the suitcase. A few of her things were badly stained, but the gift wrappings were hardly touched, and the dress, when the polythene wrapping had been removed, retained, apart from creases, its pristine turquoise freshness.
She tidied the room, turned back the bed cover, took off her shoes and lay down. Unthinkingly, as her head went back to touch the pillows, she raised her hands and slipped them under it. She turned her head and saw her reflection in the dressing table mirror, and it sent a strange shock along her spine. She saw Pete in the darkness, his eyes wide and glinting. He was in his own home now, perhaps at this moment looking through reports on the progress of the estate during his absence. Or he might be just thinking, as she was, though his thoughts would be vastly different. He was probably looking forward to the evening, to presenting his gifts to the girl named Astrid
...
and collecting payment. The two of them might listen to the Siamese music together, but he would expand only about the sights he had seen in Burma and Siam. Not about the river
...
not about Terry Fremont. To Pete Sternham, the river and Terry had already become history, and uninteresting at that.
CHAPTER
FIVE
PENGHU was an odd little town, still primitive in spite of the new buildings. Its roads were gravelled or merely beaten earth, there was no electricity except from the private lighting plants, and the water tower was like a miniature Tower of Pisa and practically obscured by growth. In the shops one could buy all kinds of local produce and a few imported goods, and at the bi-weekly market local stuff was obtainable at bargain prices. There was no competition, and seemingly no ambition. So long as he had shelter and food the peasant was content. Those better off could afford to travel occasionally, and buy in a larger town.
The white people numbered around fifteen. There were the four construction company men, an agent who handled copra and oil for the smallholders, a doctor, Roger Payn, who ran this small branch of his family
’
s business with the aid of a Malay clerk, two or three wives, and some temporary residents who were engaged on surveying and educational work. Social life, Terry learned, consisted in meeting for tea or cocktails, bridge for the women and poker for the men, and a dinner at one of the houses each Saturday. Sometimes, mid-week, the Winchesters would put on a film show in their sitting-room, and there were occasional picnics.
To Terry
’
s relief, there was little contact with anyone outside the town. The few white planters, she learned, stuck together and arranged their own enjoyment; there weren
’
t more than half a dozen in the whole area.
“
They
’
re unusual types, I believe,
”
Vic told Terry, the day after her arrival.
“
The sort of men who
’
d just as soon have trees as human beings for company. We construction people will always be regarded as newcomers because we have a certain job to do and will vanish when it
’
s done, in about three years
’
time.
”
They were seated in the veranda, awaiting the others who were dressing for dinner. Terry looked absorbedly at this small part of Penghu. In darkness the square, surrounded by houses which were constructed half of adobe and half of atap, looked smaller and shut in by the ubiquitous palms. There were lights in other verandas, people moving about unrecognizably beyond woven sun
and mosquito-screens.
“
Do you think you
’
ll want to stay on in the Far East, Vic?
”
she asked.
“
I shouldn
’
t be surprised, you know. I
’
ve taken to it.
”
“
And what about Annette?
”
“
Oh, lord,
”
he said gloomily.
“
She comes first with me, of course, but can
’
t you make her regard this as an adventure, Terry? After all, anyone can see that you
’
re still dog-tired, but you lap up every new sight as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. Why can
’
t Annette be like that?
”
“
Because we
’
re different. She was made for the bright lights, and to be admired. Physical beauty doesn
’
t last all that long. Why should she hide it in the jungle?
”
“
She could make up her mind to be thoroughly happy here for the next three years. After that, we
’
d decide together about the future.
”
“
What does she say, when you put it that way?
”
“
That she
’
ll be twenty-seven—
old
.”
His voice, trying to imitate Annette
’
s, was comical.
“
She just doted on modelling. I hated it.
”
“
There
’
s such a thing as compromise. Were you compelled to sign a contract for three years?
”
“
No, only for one year. I didn
’
t really sign up till I knew Annette was on her way here.
”
“
You
’
ll admit that was a grubby trick.
”
“
Yes, but I was sure that, having decided to come, she would settle in. I still think she will.
”
“
Supposing she had decided not to come?
”
He looked a little grey.
“
I
’
d have had to work out the year, but we might have parted.
”
“
Vic! How can you talk like that?
”
He sighed.
“
When you
’
ve done as much arguing as I have, it gets easier every day to be callous. Annette insists that if we
’
d stayed in England she could have continued working. Well, there are, some jobs a man might not mind his wife doing, if she finds it necessary for her ego, but modelling isn
’
t one of them. You thought I was a nasty, dogged creature when I took this post without telling Annette, didn
’
t you?
”
“
Dogged, but not nasty.
”
He smiled faintly.
“
Thanks for that, Actually, I had two reasons for putting in an application. I really was—and am—keen to work out here for a spell, and
...
well, it looked like a good basis for a showdown with Annette. If she wanted to stick with me she could only do it as my wife in every sense of the word. I don
’
t want a model for a wife.
”
“
You
’
re certainly difficult, you two. And they say love is a leveller and all-powerful! If I hadn
’
t heard you both declare most emphatically that you love
each
other, I wouldn
’
t believe it.
”
“
You can believe it, all right,
”
he said, a little hopelessly.
“
Annette never bothers with other men and I
’
ve never even seen another girl since we met.
”
He pondered and added moodily,
“
It might do her a bit of good if I suddenly began paying attention to someone else.
”
“
And vice versa,
”
Terry reminded him.
“
She has more scope than you have.
”
“
We just can
’
t do it to each other. Many other things, but not that.
”
Terry smiled.
‘
You both think too much about your incompatibilities. Why don
’
t you just drift into a seventh heaven and not emerge from it till your honeymoon is o
v
er? I bet you
’
d find that most of your difficulties had disappeared. Where are you spending your honeymoon, by the way?
”
“
We get a plane trip to a coastal place down south—wedding gift from the firm.
”
“
Very nice, too. Do they give you a month?
”
“
I think so. You
’
re staying here till we come back, aren
’
t you?
”
Terry
’
s smile faded, she looked out once more into a darkness lit by fireflies.
“
I don
’
t know. There
’
s nothing for me to do here. We can have your flat ready quite soon, and once you
’
re married I might as well get back to England.
”
“
But that
’
s ridiculous,
”
he said warmly.
“
Even for your own sister, you can
’
t travel all this way and stay just a week or two. Vida is expecting you to live here at least a month
...
and there
’
s Roger.
”
He paused, and looked at her a little curiously.
“
You wrote to him quite often from England, didn
’
t you? He was always disappointed if more than a couple of weeks went by without a letter from you.
”
“
We were fairly good pen pals,
”
she said lightly.
“
I
’
m so
rr
y he went chasing off to find me.
”
“
You know why he did it, don
’
t you?
”
“
He thought I was daft enough to get lost, I suppose. You
’
re sure he
’
ll find out that I
’
ve reached Penghu?
”
“
He
’
ll find out.
”
Vic leaned a little towards her, spoke in lower tones.
“
Have you gone cold on Roger? You sound it.
”
“
There was never anything between us.
”
“
Why should he think there is, then
?
Because he does.
”
This was too much for Terry. With every hour she was feeling more normal, more able to cope with Annette
’
s nerves and discontent; but Roger Payn had to stay outside. Whatever she had dreamed in England and on the boat had gone stale as last week
’
s bread. Now, in spite of the snapshots he had sent her, she couldn
’
t even remember what Roger had looked like!
“
I gave him no reason,
”
she said shortly, and stood up. They went into the sitting-room, and presently Vida Winchester and her husband came in, followed about ten minutes later by a sparkling Annette. Terry was glad to notice that Annette still caught and held Vic
’
s glance whenever she entered a room; surely such a bond between two people would survive the disagreements and upsets?
After dinner a few people arrived. The company accountant and his wife, the doctor, and an agent who talked incessantly about the importance of opening up the district. The agent
’
s wife was an avid-looking woman, yellow-complexioned and atrociously dressed; it was she who had started the other women on their obsession with bridge.
Everyone was most cordial to Annette
’
s sister. If, privately, they considered her rather below Annette
’
s standard of loveliness, they certainly did not show it. She was offered information and advice, questioned about the canoe trip, admired aloud for her courage. Well, it had to be got through; after tonight they would no doubt let the whole thing die.
Next morning Terry drove with Annette, in Vic
’
s car, to view the flat. She had
imagined a building on the lines of English flats but smaller, but the block in
Penghu was delightfully tropical in appearance. There were balconies in i
c
e-
cream
colors, fretted brickwork, tobacco-colored reed sun-blinds and a
background of palms. In all, there were only sixteen flats, and each, presumably,
was a replica of the one on the top floor, which Vic
had rented.
A long lounge opened on to a balcony, a dining alcove was just behind it, there was one large bedroom, another room which would take a single bed but not much else, and a box-like kitchen and bathroom. The rooms were airy and supplied with ceiling fans, and as they had never before been occupied the floors were an even honey-color, the walls a flawless matt white. The only snag seemed to be the lights; the place was wired ready for future developments, but Vic would have to supply his own batteries or use paraffin lamps
.
“
Paraffin lamps!
”
Annette repeated, after she had given this information.
“
It
’
s like going back to the Middle Ages.
”
“
Of course it isn
’
t. There are still a good many places in England where they use them. I like lamplight.
”
“
You would. I prefer brilliance, but even with batteries we won
’
t get it. I believe they have to be charged continually.
”
“
Have both, and you can
’
t go wrong. Have you measured for curtains?
”
“
Oh, Terry, how dull can you get! In any case, the moment I began to take an interest in color schemes Vic would think he had me hooked. I
’
ve got to feel right before I get married
.”