Authors: Rosalind Brett
“
If you
’
re not so madly in love with him as you wanted to be, don
’
t let it worry you—he
’
s the resilient type,
”
Vida said lightly.
“
Roger has always had a wonderful time and he
’
ll go on doing so, whether he gets you or not
.
One good thing about the not-so-deep male is that you can use him without a qualm. By which I mean, my dear, that you may go ahead and have a roaring time with Roger in Singapore and still turn him down when it comes to a proposal. Just stop thinking about him as a romantic prospect for a while.
”
Terry did not mention that she had almost ceased to regard Roger as anything at all on the day she had reached Vinan. She smoked her cigarette and asked a few questions about Singapore; Vida was not deceived, but she was accommodating.
At five-thirty Mr. Winchester arrived and Roger returned. The four met together in the veranda at just after six, and the usual drinks were served. Almost automatically, a fifth glass had appeared on the table, but it stood there, unused. Terry, her hands damp and tight in her lap, wondered if this were the sign she needed. Right through dinner she went on wondering, and afterwards, when Roger suggested a stroll, she was glad to go out.
But she said urgently,
“
Let
’
s drive first, Roger. Take me a little way into the hills.
”
“
Anything you say. Doesn
’
t look like rain.
”
She smiled faintly.
“
How can you know? I never saw anything so unexpected as the rain that comes to Penghu. It can threaten, tumble down and flood everything in the space of fifteen minutes!
”
“
But not tonight,
”
he said blithely.
“
I feel tops. Nothing can happen to either of us—not even rain.
”
The moon, on the wane now, was invisible at the moment, but a pallor spread across the starry face of the sky. Palms reached up their black fronds and masses of trees billowed darkly against the stars. As they left the kampong they passed a procession of Malay dancers dressed in silky sarongs and bright tunics
. T
he men wore sparkling crowns and the women had dressed their hair high on the top of the head and wreathed it with flowers.
Then the road was dark. It climbed muddily, scarcely a car
’
s width between the thick growth of wild palms, bananas and timber forest. When, eventually, Roger stopped the car, it was not in a place where they could walk. No one walked in the jungle at night.
But it was restful there. Birds squawked, small animals rustled through the ferns and lalang, and fireflies darted about in the blackness like myriads of airborne jewels.
They lit cigarettes to deter the mosquitoes. And then, naturally, Roger slipped an arm across Terry
’
s shoulder and breathed deeply and happily.
“
This is my best day since you came,
”
he told her.
“
You
’
ve been holding me off, young Terry. Wouldn
’
t even have a friendly talk with me after your sister
’
s marriage, even though we
’
d planned it.
”
“
You promised not to be awkward, and I
’
m keeping you to it, that
’
s all. Aren
’
t you worried about your father
’
s health
?
”
“
Well, of course! He
’
s sure to be all right, though—my mother will see to that. Not afraid of meeting my parents, are you?
”
“
Heaven
’
s, no. It
’
s very sweet of them to invite me.
”
She rested her head back on his arm.
“
What have you told them about me?
”
“
Nothing much,
”
he said, waving his cigarette.
“
I described your face—plain with a putty nose and slate-blue eyes. And your hair—mousey with carroty streaks. They thought you sounded fetching.
”
“
Idiot. Do they have a house in Singapore?
”
“
There
’
s an old place that belongs to the company. It has a modern kitchen and bathrooms, and quite a show garden. When you and I live there we
’
ll
...
”
“
Roger, you promised!
”
He let out a noisy sigh.
“
You cramp a fellow
’
s style. I was all set to get lyrical. When you
’
re in love with a girl what else do you talk about but the future, and the things you
’
ll do together?
”
“
You
’
re not in love with me.
”
He gave a deeper sigh.
“
I am, you know.
”
He thumped his chest.
“
It gets me right here, sometimes, and I feel awfully queer. Nothing like anything I
’
ve ever experienced before.
”
Hollowly he added,
“
I don
’
t believe I
’
m going to get over it without drastic treatment
.
Like marriage, for instance.
”
She sat up, flicked her cigarette out of the window and said steadily,
“
Let
’
s go back now. Vida probably
thin
ks
we only went for a walk.
”
But the hand that held her shoulder tightened a little.
“
Don
’
t shrink—I won
’
t talk about love. But tell me something. Did you go out with any other men while you were writing to me from England?
”
“
Yes, several times.
”
“
The same chap each time—someone special?
”
“
No, they were friends I
’
ve known for years. Roger, this isn
’
t a bit important, and if you
’
ll only
...
”
“
It
’
s important to me. You never quite committed yourself in your letters, but I did get the impression that something rather different from the usual chummy relationship existed between us. I may be a bit of an ass in some directions, but one thing I
’
m certain of. If I hadn
’
t had to leave England when I did, you and I would have
...
”
“
Please!
”
Terry was beginning to feel wretched, chiefly because he had hit on the truth.
“
Do let
’
s go now.
”
Rather edgily, he withdrew his arm.
“
I don
’
t understand you at all. I
’
ve tried, and been patient. I know that women find the climate a little wearing and that you
’
ve had a hard time with Annette. But the wedding was more than three weeks ago; you should be settling down here now.
”
“
I
’
ll never settle down here, Roger,
”
she said.
“
Do you still want me to go to Singapore with you?
”
“
Of course,
”
he said contritely, and turned the ignition key. The engine chugged gently.
“
Just hit me over the head with a mallet next time I get plaintive!
”
She laughed.
“
You
’
re very sweet, really—one of the best companions anyone could have. I don
’
t want to keep belting you with obvious facts, but you
’
re not in love, Roger, and neither am I. I want to go with you to Singapore, but only on those terms. What do you think?
”
“
I think yes,
”
he said at once.
“
The old man and his father pioneered importing agencies in the Far East. I must have
something
of them in me!
”
“
Well, don
’
t goad yourself. Maybe your line lies somewhere else.
”
He made a feint with his fist at her nose, groaned theatrically.
“
Why do you have to be appealing as well as
distant? I can deal with either, but together they fog m poor single-track brain. Shall we talk about something else? Do you think Annette will write?
”
“
No, she won
’
t. While she
’
s away with Vic I
’
m perfect
ly
happy about her. I just hope she won
’
t turn up even on
e
day before she
’
s due.
”
“
When is that?
”
“
Next Saturday.
”
Rain suddenly battered the car. He let out an ex
cl
amation and switched on the lights, illumined a road that eve
n
as they watched became a lake of red mud pitted wit
h
outsize raindrops. The engine was already running, an
d
hurriedly he reversed and drove through the squall.
The hazards of driving down a gradient between jungl
e
in tropical rain have to be experienced to be believed. Th
e
road surface becomes a quagmire with rocks standing ou
t
where one least expects them, and a fairly innocent-seeming pool can hide a pothole of amazing depth. Inevitably, then is a snapped branch across the path and a bend or tw
o
where the car broadsides flat into the bush. On the whol
e
one comes to no harm, but progress is slow.
By the time they reached the familiar square it was midnight. The rain had stopped and the stars gazed down as placidly as if they had never been veiled. Pete
’
s big ca
r
stood near the Winchesters
’
house, and the man himself was in the veranda with Bill.
As they went up the steps Roger shoved back his preposterously fair hair, and grinned.
“
Got caught up
in
the hills,
”
he explained airily.
“
Came home on two wheels.
”
Bill Winchester gave his usual half-smile. Pete looked a little tight about the mouth but otherwise noncommittal.
“
You might have mentioned you were taking a drive,
”
he said.
“
No one here knew where you were.
”
“
Didn
’
t matter, did it? Terry
’
s safe with me. I dote on the girl.
”
“
I
’
m sure you do.
”
Pete
’
s shoulders lifted.
“
I came to remind Terry that she
’
s lunching with the Harmsens and myself tomorrow.
”
“
At your house?
”
she asked blankly.
He nodded.
“
I
’
ll call for you at twelve-thirty, Teresa, Good night.
”
The final words were an impartial leave-taking to all three of them. He went down to his car, swung it round and shot away. Bill Winchester mentioned that Vida had already gone to bed, and himself said good night.
When he had gone, Roger said,
“
You didn
’
t even remember you
’
d promised to meet the Harmsens at the plantation tomorrow, did you?
”
No, and for a good reason, thought Terry tiredly; she doubted whether the Swedish couple had heard about it themselves yet. Pete had planned it the moment she had turned up with Roger.
“
I
’
m going to bed,
”
she said.
“
You won
’
t let anyone put you off going to Singapore with me, will you, Terry?
”
he implored.
“
I certainly won
’
t,
”
she assured him. And went to her room.
Pete turned up promptly at twelve-thirty. Terry, wearing white linen which was banded at the collar and picked with mid-blue, got up from her chair beside Vida
’
s. She looked small and valiant as she greeted him; her smile was almost as expressionless as his could be. Today, though, his greeting, addressed first to Vida and then to Terry, was entirely charming. In a light suit he looked tall and handsome, and somehow the magnetic quality which Terry had managed to ignore while others were present, seemed today almost irresistible. Involuntarily her shoulders stiffened and her nerves went taut. She caught Vida
’
s half comprehending glance and looked away, her smile carefully set.
Vida said,
“
Enjoy yourself, Terry, and don
’
t let him bully you. You
’
re not at his mercy in a canoe now, you know!
”
Pete smiled off the pleasantry; Terry tried to do the same. They got into the car and he set it moving, waved to Vida as they left the square. For several minutes he drove in silence, through the kampong and out towards the rubber. Heat shimmered over the trees and along the rutted road; giant mauve and green butterflies flitted from one bush to another and parakeets gossiped and burst into raucous laughter.
Urbanely, Pete said,
“
Sorry I had to take the high hand last night in arranging this date, but maybe it was good for you. A sort of reminder that you
’
re not as free as you
’
d like to be.
”
“
That
’
s because you
’
re aching for freedom. I think about it a good deal myself.
”