‘Last night.’
‘I see. So you don’t feel upset about Greta and me getting together again?’
‘On the contrary, I hope you’ll be very happy.’
‘I wonder if in your generosity you’re making it easy for me? I do have a conscience, Christine, and it’s troubled me a lot since Greta and I talked and decided we hadn’t given the marriage a fair trial.’
‘Don’t let your conscience worry you any more, Steve. I really mean it when I say I never loved you. I know it now and had we married we’d have bitterly regretted it very soon afterwards.’
‘Greta didn’t have anyone else,’ he said, ignoring her statement altogether. ‘She just said it because her pride was hurt and in order to make me jealous.’
‘She herself was jealous that night when you and I were intending to dine together at your house.’
‘Yes, I know. I heard all about the scene she caused; she seemed sorry about her conduct but at the same time she was furious with you.’ He paused to let Christine say something but she remained silent and he asked, ‘Are you all right on your own over there?’
‘You know I’m on my own?’ she said, puzzled.
‘Greta went over to Miami yesterday morning to do some shopping for a couple of days. She phoned me about an hour ago and mentioned seeing Luke a few minutes previously with his girl friend hanging on his arm. They were coming out of a plush hotel, so Greta’s guess was that they’d had a night together.’
‘Luke slept here last night,’ Christine corrected stiffly. ‘He left very early this morning on the first plane out.’
‘Oh, well, Greta’s mistaken, then.’
‘She is!’ tautly and with force.
‘I wonder if there’s anything serious in the affair?’ ‘There wasn’t a few weeks ago. . . .’ But now? Now Luke might be feeling different. He had certainly been eager to see Clarice, she realised, seeing that he was away so early this morning. Had he phoned her to say he was coming? Yes, he must have done. Perhaps he had even now asked her to marry him. The thought crucified her; she could not continue for the raw feeling at the back of her throat.
‘He’ll have to think of marriage one day,’ Steve was saying, ‘but I always imagined his choosing a sweet little innocent, someone docile, too, whom he can domineer over—the way he domineers over you at times, if you know what I mean?’
‘Yes,’ she said bleakly, aware that she would give ten years of her life if Luke were here to domineer over her. ‘Yes, I do know what you mean.’
‘Clarice has something, though. She’s very beautiful, so Greta tells me.’
‘I agree.’
‘And Luke’s always had an eye for beauty.’
She sighed and said, ‘I really rang because I wanted to speak to Arthur. Is he in?’
‘He’s in his study. I’ll tell him you’re on the line.’ He went off without saying good-bye. Christine pressed her lips together. She felt like an outcast whom nobody had any time for.
Arthur, though, might show some affection for her, she thought optimistically, for he knew now that she hadn’t come between Steve and Greta after all.
‘Hello,’ he said quite affably and Christine’s spirits lifted a little. ‘How are you, dear?’
‘Fine—well, not really, Father. You see . . .’ almost without her own volition words came tumbling forth as she bared her heart to him. ‘So I’ve lost him,’ she added finally, ‘and all through my own foolishness.’
‘Lost him? But are you saying he might have fallen in love with you?’
‘He could have, yes.’
‘Luke’s been a father figure towards you far too long, my dear. If and when he marries, he’ll want someone new and exciting—yes, if you know Luke! He’s far too familiar with you, too used to your ways. Besides, he looks upon you as a mere child. No, Christine, you haven’t lost Luke—not in that way, because you never had him. However, you’ll not have lost his affection either. I guess he’ll always be protective towards you even when he’s married to someone else.’
She said chokingly, ‘He’s in Miami at this moment— with Clarice. Greta saw them.’
‘Greta?’ A small pause followed. ‘You’ve been talking to Greta?’ he added in bewilderment and surprise. ‘She phoned you from Miami?’
‘No, but I’ve been speaking to Steve just now and he told me.’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’
‘Luke won’t be home for my birthday,’ she just had to say.
‘Your birthday? When is it?’
‘The day after tomorrow.’ So he had forgotten her birthday—for the very first time.
‘Oh, well—I haven’t sent you anything. I’ll post you a cheque today, Christine.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she returned dully. And then after a long pause during which she wondered if he were still there, ‘If I come over will you take me out to dinner, Father?’ She didn’t quite know the reason for that question because under the present circumstances she had no wish at all to return to Cassia Lodge. ‘You’re back there altogether now, I take it?’
‘I’m selling the business—in fact, it’s practically settled already and the prospective buyer’s only waiting for the bank to advance the loan. Then I’m going to live with my sister, as I’ve already told you. I shall be putting Cassia Lodge up for sale any day now.’ He sounded a trifle impatient, she thought and bit her lip. Arthur didn’t want her even for a short visit.
Yet she said persistently, ‘If I flew over to Pirates’ Cay today or tomorrow, you could take me out to dinner on my birthday, just like you always did.’ Why was she going on like this? She couldn’t go over to Cassia Lodge and meet Greta and Steve, not after all that had happened.
The small pause told her all she wanted to know even before Arthur spoke. ‘I shan’t be here, Christine. I’m sorry. You see, I’ve already made arrangements to dine with friends.’
‘I see. . . Her desolation was almost physical, for even though she would not have gone over to Pirates’ Cay the fact that she was not wanted there hurt unbearably. ‘Well, I expect you’re busy so I’ll say good-bye.’
‘Good-bye, dear. Have a nice birthday. I’ll not forget the cheque,’ he added as an afterthought.
‘Thank you,’ she said briefly.
‘I’m sorry for sending you away, dear, but I was upset by so many things all at once.’
‘I understand. Luke explained—’
‘He did? But Luke would, of course. Such a dependable guy, Christine. He’ll take good care of you. I expect you’ll get a job after all?’
‘I hope to get one, yes.’
‘Well, don’t go too far from Luke. You know how you’ve always leant on him.’ A fleeting pause and then, ‘I really must go, dear. Ring me again sometime.’
Sometime . . .
As she was at this moment she felt she would never ring him again as long as she lived.
It was half past seven in the evening when Christine, sitting by the pool with an unopened book in her lap, heard voices and suddenly stiffened. Luke—and Clarice! He had brought her back here with him. Christine stood up and the book fell at her feet. She wondered if she were as pale as she felt and wished the patio lights were a little less bright. Automatically she reached for a switch and tried it. All the white lights went off, leaving the amber ones which were suspended from branches of tall pines, the natural vegetation of the island.
Dusk had fallen swiftly while she had been sitting there but she had scarcely noticed. No though, the sky had taken on that mother-of-pearl aspect which fleetingly reigns supreme before the onset of night spreads its spangled mauve colour that rapidly changes to deep purple. It could have been magical, she thought. Christine’s ears were alert to catch any words she could.
‘Yes, sir, she’s on the patio.’
She wanted to shrink to nothingness but instead she was able to step forward as Luke came out through the window after he had drawn back the fly netting. He stood there a moment, looking at her, and she realised that now she was seeing him in a very different light, seeing him as the man she loved rather than the man she had leant upon for so many years. She felt the presence of flutterings within her, the stirring of mind and nerves and heart; she was profoundly aware of his vitality and strength, of the powerful draw of his magnetism, and with a little shock of disbelief she realised that this knowledge of his attraction as a man had been with her for some time. But it had lain hidden away, wrapped in the veil of her subconscious.
‘Hello, Christine,’ he greeted her impassively at last. ‘Have you had a nice day?’ The thread of satire hurt as cruelly as he meant it to.
‘It hasn’t been so bad. And you?’ She glanced past him to where Clarice seemed to be giving orders to Anna about a suitcase, and she wondered how long the girl was staying.
‘Very pleasant, thank you.’
‘Anna said you’d left a message to say you might be away a week.’ She was all confusion, with the memory Of last night’s intimacy superimposed on everything else.
‘I changed my mind.’ His abruptness only served to increase her discomfiture.
‘I phoned Arthur,’ she said feebly. ‘I wanted to go back.’
‘And?’
‘He didn’t want me.’ She looked down at her feet, wishing she had moved away when she first heard the voices, moved into the enfolding gloom of the more wooded part of the garden.
‘I asked you not to judge him too hard.’
She nodded her head. ‘He was sorry for sending me away.’
‘But didn’t want you back?’ He sounded heartless, she thought, and her heart wept for the times that were gone when all she had from him was kindness.
‘He’s selling up—the house and the business. It wouldn’t be any use my going back. In any case, Greta’s there and so is Steve.’ His slow nod of the head made her ask, ‘Did you get in touch with Steve?’
‘I phoned just before we left Miami. He said that he and Greta were going to try again.’ He looked hard at her, his scrutiny searching and faintly scornful. ‘So he’s lost to you—for the time being.’
Her eyes flew open. ‘The time being?’
‘Oh, yes, you can go on hoping,’ he said with a sort of mocking contempt. ‘It’s on the cards that the marriage will break up one day. Just depends on your patience as to whether you and he get together or not.’ She said in a voice made husky by unshed tears, ‘You’re very unkind to me, Luke.’
‘Perhaps
my
patience is at fault.’
‘It’s—run out, y-you mean?’ Had he forgotten that he had promised to care for her when she left her home?
‘It was bound to, wasn’t it?’ The sardonic inflection was matched by the look in his tawny eyes. ‘Well, Christine, what are your immediate plans now that Steve’s made it up with Greta?’
‘I—I want to get a job, and a flat. I w-want to be independent.’
‘You want to leave here? I’m rather glad about that,’ he said. ‘You see, if I decide to marry, my wife wouldn’t want another woman in her home, would she?’
She shook her head. Was this the man she had known for so long? No, he was different altogether. Unkind, heartless, uncaring what happened to her, forgetting he had said he’d not allow her to get a job. And he had as good as said he was thinking of getting married.
She turned away, her eyes misted as she stared at the serried barrier of water palms that formed the western border of the grounds. It was a charming house, this. Perhaps Luke would buy it and bring his wife here.
‘Ah, there you are, darling!’ Clarice’s voice brought her round reluctantly. ‘And little Christine,’ she added condescendingly in that acid-sweet voice which made Christine want to hit her.
Little
Christine! Anyone would think she was an infant! ‘Luke was telling me you’ve to stay here for a while because your father’s selling up. How very sad! What shall you do?’
‘That,’ bit out Christine, ‘is my business!’ She caught Luke’s expression and wondered why he was so amused.
‘Christine,’ he chided gently, ‘that was not very nice of you. Please remember you’re in my home and Clarice is my guest.’
‘I’m sorry,’ offered Christine, blushing under the rebuke.
‘You don’t sound sorry. However, I expect Clarice will forgive you, seeing that your life appears to have been turned upside down. I’ll probably be able to help you get a job,’ he went on in cool dispassionate tones. ‘What have you in mind?’
She glanced up at him suspiciously. His face was a mask, devoid of expression. ‘I haven’t even thought about it yet,’ she said, fear behind the careless inflection.
‘I shall be needing a receptionist for the hotel. Perhaps a post like that would appeal to you?’
She shot him a furious glance and was unable to articulate words because of the choking sensation in her throat. She saw the muscles twitch at the corners of his mouth and knew he was suppressing laughter. He was not only being rotten with her he was also laughing at her!
‘I’ll find my own job, thank you,’ she threw at him tartly at last.
‘Something upset you today?’ he enquired tonelessly. ‘You don’t appear to be in the best of spirits.’
‘I’m fine,’ she snapped. ‘If you’ll excuse me—’ She shouldered past him and wanted to curl right up on hearing the laughter that followed immediately on her departure. They were
both
laughing at her!
It was obvious that her supposition that he might love her had been nothing more than a pipe dream.
There were only two bathrooms in the bungalow, and as one was
en suite
to Luke’s bedroom Christine and Clarice had to share the other. Christine had told Luke—when she saw him alone for a moment—that she wasn’t having any dinner.
‘You’ll have dinner with Clarice and me,’ he told her darkly. ‘I’m not having you slight my guest.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ she began when he interrupted shortly, ‘Don’t be peevish. You don’t like being treated like a child but what do you expect when you act like one?’
‘I hate you,’ she said slowly through her teeth. ‘It’s plain that you don’t want me here so why can’t you tell me to go?’
‘I would,’ he rejoined swiftly, ‘if you’d anywhere
to
go.’