Authors: Alexandra Thomas
“I must speak to her,” said Ralph, quickly.
“You stay here,” Gabrielle snapped. “She’s none of your business.”
Daniel stood on the veranda steps and tried to think calmly. He indicated the wicker chairs, the jug of fresh orange juice and the brave flowers Sandy had put on the table—a spray of wild orchids trailing from a big shell.
“I think we had all better sit and find out exactly what did happen. Help yourselves to a drink and I will see how Sandy is.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Ralph faltered. “Gabrielle hasn’t got it quite right…”
“I didn’t think so,” said Daniel grimly.
“Did you bring the gin?” Gabrielle asked, sitting down. “Gin and fresh orange juice might be quite nice.”
Daniel found Sandy sobbing her heart out on the bed. He lifted her and cradled her in his arms. “There, there,” he soothed her, stroking her hair back from her damp forehead and murmuring words of comfort. She leaned against him, her bare shoulders shaking.
“Daniel, what is that awful woman saying about me? I didn’t do all those awful things. That isn’t me. Please believe me. I’m not the person they say I am. P-please, Daniel, believe me.”
He sat on the bed, knowing he did not care who she was or what she had done. She meant so much to him. He only wanted to hold her and look after her. Her sobs were dying away, and only tremors went through her body.
“Now I want you to be brave and courageous, Sandy, as I know you can be. You are to dry your eyes, put on your pretty blue dress and brush your hair. Then you are to come outside and join us, and show that bossy Miss Webster that you are not afraid of her. Somehow we will get the truth out of both of them.”
“But she said those awful things…”
“Perhaps she will change her tune after a good meal and a bottle of wine.” He grinned, tipping her face and kissing the end of her nose. “There, I said I would never do that again.”
Sandy found a weak smile. “I need to wash.”
“I’ll ask Leon to bring you some water.”
Ten minutes later a different Sandy appeared, cool and composed in her blue dress, her feet in gold sandals, her tawny hair swinging loosely around her tanned face.
“My word,” said Ralph, eyes full of admiration, offering her his chair.
“Let’s eat first and talk afterwards,” said Daniel quickly, before there could be another scene.
There was no doubt that the young couple were glad to have some different food. Sandy had been very clever with the corned beef, turning it into curried beef with the chilli sauce. And the crayfish was served instead with a white sauce made from some of George Webb’s tins of condensed chicken soup and with breadfruit chips. The fried rice was laced with small cubes of vegetables. The fruit salad was a mouth-watering mixture of bananas, melon, paw-paw, mangoes and fresh oranges. Sandy had beaten egg whites until they were stiff, then folded in the evaporated milk and grated coconut. It was all so delicious that Daniel could now well believe that she was a professional cook.
“But I’m not,” she whispered to him, reading the look in his eyes.
Ralph refilled their glasses. He had brought a dry white wine from
Sun Flyer.
He felt full and sleepy and had no real wish to go over events, but Daniel would not let it rest at that.
“Tell us exactly all you know, Ralph,” said Daniel, with a determined edge to his voice which Sandy recognised. Sandy moved away and sat on the veranda steps, looking out to the pale sweep of sand that was home to her. The dipping palms were dark and yet silvery in the moonlight. It was a night for love, not for terror.
“Well, I don’t know where to begin really,” Ralph wavered. “We planned this two months’ cruise in the Seychelles and we advertised for a cook in the personal column of
The Times
because we didn’t know what it would be like out here. We didn’t know how civilised it would be. Mr. Webster interviewed the applicants in London and Marion Elliot got the job. We three flew out together, then Gabrielle came a day or so later when we had chartered
Sun Flyer
and got the schooner all ship-shape.”
“I had some appointments,” Gabrielle interrupted.
“Well, then—”
“Go on. Tell them how she made eyes at you.”
Ralph shifted uneasily in his chair. “It wasn’t quite like that,” he repeated. “Marion was very kind to me. I felt a bit seasick when we first put out to sea, and she used to bring me drinks in my cabin. Gabrielle found Marion in my cabin and naturally did not like it.”
“You bet I didn’t like it!” Gabrielle glared at the shadowy blue figure sitting on the steps.
“Then Marion was not very well and had to stay in her cabin for a few days. Somehow a fire broke out in her cabin—we don’t know how. Perhaps it started from the engine room.”
“She was smoking in her bunk,” Gabrielle interrupted again.
“Sandy doesn’t smoke,” said Daniel quite angrily. He was irritated by this woman’s animosity against Sandy.
“Anyway, I got Marion out and put my life jacket on her, just in case. She was a bit overcome by the fumes and I sent her on deck in the fresh air while I put out the fire with an extinguisher. There was a bit of a gale blowing up and I was worried the flames would spread and the whole ship explode. When I got to the deck, Marion had gone. We searched and searched, but we couldn’t find her…” His voice had fallen to a whisper. Even Gabrielle kept quiet for once.
“Did you inform anyone? Did she have any family?”
“Not that we knew of. Her address was some school, and Mr. Webster had left her letter in his London office. All we knew about her was that she had a Cordon Bleu certificate for cooking.”
Ralph was staring out to sea, twirling the stem of his glass. “We should have done more,” he said forlornly. “But by then the gale had really blown up. Our engine was not working properly and we were being blown off course. We had enough trouble on our hands. Eventually we landed at some little port in Somali where we got the engine fixed. Paul Webster flew home. He was too distressed about everything to continue his holiday. He reported to the authorities that Marion was missing, but they seemed to think that it was too late for a further search. There had already been an air and sea search for
Sun Flyer.
He decided to fly back to London to try and trace her relatives. It was not a happy task but it had to be done.”
“It was in Mogadiscio that some damned trader sold us a load of rotten food,” said Gabrielle, lighting up another cigarette.
“So that’s how Sandy got washed up on La Petite, half drowned. The soles of her feet burnt. That life jacket saved her,” said Daniel, remembering so clearly the moment of finding her, covered in sand.
“We sort of shared the life jacket,” said Ralph. “We were one short aboard, so we decided to have half each.” He looked quickly at Gabrielle. “We even put our initials on the flap. It was a joke.”
Their initials. Of course, now Daniel realised. The MINE were Marion Elliot’s initials.
“There isn’t much more for me to add,” Daniel said. “I found Sandy washed up on the shore in a very bad way. She had several cracked ribs and probably concussion. Then we discovered the disturbing fact that she had lost her memory. She could remember nothing and was in a state of shock. It wasn’t until some time later that I found the burns on her feet and by then they had healed.
“I’ve taken her to a Dr. Lefanue on Mahé, but he thinks she needs deep hypnosis to bring her memory back. Meanwhile she’s been living here on La Petite, helping me with my research, and gradually gaining her health and strength. Except for her memory.”
“Then we shall do everything possible to help,” said Ralph decisively. “I know Mr. Webster will pay for any necessary treatment. He was very upset and will be only too relieved to find that Marion is alive and well. She will have the very best, you can be sure of that.”
“Your fiancé’s story seems to be a little different from your account, Miss Webster,” said Daniel.
“Fundamentally they are the same,” she retorted, undeterred. “But I do agree with Ralph that Marion is now our responsibility and we must take care of her. Of course my father will pay for everything. Well, that was a very pleasant supper, Daniel,” she went on, using his first name. “And the after-dinner stories were all very touching. Perhaps you’d like to go and pack your things, Marion, if you have anything. I’ve decided we may as well spend a few more days around these islands. They certainly are beautiful. But I shall want Marion to come and do the cooking aboard
Sun Flyer
now, of course. It’s what she was being paid for.”
“I’m not sure whether Sandy should go with you,” said Daniel.
“I shall personally see that Marion gets to London safely,” said Ralph. “She’s been through enough, poor girl. Don’t worry, Marion. You’ll soon have your memory back.”
“I’m not coming,” said Sandy stubbornly. “I don’t know who I am. I don’t know if I’m this Marion Elliot. I’ve forgotten everything.”
“You certainly haven’t forgotten how to cook,” Gabrielle mused.
“That proves nothing,” said Sandy with spirit. “Half of our meal was out of tins. Flora cooked the rest.”
Gabrielle leaned forward and rested her hand lightly on Daniel’s arm. “Can’t you make her see sense? Surely it would be far better if she returned with us. We’d make sure she got the right treatment in London.”
“No, I’m not going to,” said Sandy defiantly. “I’m staying with Daniel.”
Daniel stood and walked to the end of the veranda. The view was so peaceful it seemed impossible that this inner turmoil was churning in his mind. It would seem more sensible to let Sandy go back to London, especially if Paul Webster was a kind and generous employer and would take care of her. But to lose Sandy now; it was unbearable.
“It’s been a traumatic evening,” he said at last. “Let’s sleep on it and make a decision in the morning.”
“I’ve made my decision,” stormed Sandy.
“What a little firebrand—sorry, didn’t mean to use that particular word,” said Gabrielle smoothly. “Perhaps I should say what a young savage.”
Ralph started being polite and shaking hand and thanking everybody. “Marvellous meal, Marion,” he said. “And I’m so glad you’re all right, really I am.”
“Thank you,” she said, touched by his obvious sincerity. Perhaps he did like her a little too much for Gabrielle’s peace of mind. But Miss Webster could keep her fiancé. Sandy wanted only Daniel. She wanted only to stay with him.
Later Daniel found her weeping silently by the shore. Their visitors had returned to
Sun Flyer.
She was standing very still, tears glistening on her cheeks. Her distress was very moving, but Daniel did not touch her. The night breeze had blown a single tendril of hair across her face but she did not seem aware of it.
Wanting her was beyond a single torment now. It was part of breathing, of seeing, of being near her. He no longer thought of himself, of his independence, his separateness. But still he held back.
“It isn’t the end of the world,” he said, hopelessly.
Sandy did not answer. She did not want to go with these people. She turned away from Daniel and walked silently back to the bungalow. The fragrance from her arrangement of wild orchids was delicate and wafted into the room as she opened the door. She knew she would not be able to sleep, and lay thinking of all the days she had shared with Daniel, even those first hazy days when he tended her with such care, and pain was part of those memories.
She could not eat any breakfast the next morning although Flora brought a tempting tray to the veranda. The old woman’s face was concerned and she hovered, pushing the little dish of fruit nearer to Sandy in an effort to attract her attention.
“Why not listen to the takamaka tree?” she said eventually. “Sometimes tree very wise.”
Sandy shook her head. “I don’t really believe all that,” she said. “Thank you for the breakfast, Flora, but I’m not hungry. Has Mr. Kane eaten?”
“Long ago, Miss-Sandy. He was walking before dawn. I know, I saw him. Perhaps he could not sleep.”
Sleep—if only she could sleep and not wake up for a long time. Perhaps then all this fear would have gone and life would be peaceful again. She wanted no more than to be with Daniel, to do the simple daily tasks, to draw her pictures of birds and shells. She remembered the fashion sketch she had copied, but it was of no concern to her why she could do this as well.
Daniel appeared. He was more formally dressed in slacks and an open-necked shirt. It must mean that he was going aboard
Sun Flyer.
Sandy’s heart sank.
“I won’t go,” she said in a low voice.
“I think you should. My own plans are so uncertain. I think you should take this chance of returning to England. Ralph Fellows will look after you. He seems a very sensible young man and is obviously fond of you.”
“But she hates me,” Sandy whispered.
“She’s only jealous because you are young and lovely. And because Ralph likes you.” Daniel almost groaned on the words. He pushed away his own thoughts, though he felt he could trust Ralph to take care of Sandy.
“But she’s so beautiful. Why should she be jealous of me?” Sandy had no real appreciation of her own wide-eyed beauty. She never looked in a mirror from one day to another.